Phantoms In Philadelphia

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Phantoms In Philadelphia Page 22

by Amalie Vantana


  A voice in the servants’ hall made me look up, and a familiar face appeared.

  “Levi! Just the person I need,” I said, unable to keep the delight from my voice.

  I grabbed Levi’s hand and pulled him to Mrs. Beaumont’s writing desk that was in the corner of the servants’ dining room. Pushing him down on the desk chair, and instructing him to write Miss Clark’s name on one side of the card and white phantom on the other side, my excitement grew. Levi did as he was instructed, and I tucked the card snugly into the bouquet where it would be visible.

  Examining the bouquet, I exclaimed, “Perfection! Now I must go.”

  Levi’s hand shot out grabbing my own as I was turning to leave. “Where are you off to, Raven?”

  “I have a message to deliver. Jack is out with Mr. Madison, so if you have a message for him, you must wait or return later.”

  Mariah was in the hall with the mask that I had sent her to fetch. After putting it on and ignoring Mariah’s laughter, I left the house.

  Walking toward Guinevere’s house, I had some time to reflect. Guinevere deserved the message, but I could not tell Jack what I had done; at least not yet. As fresh as his feelings were, he would be angry.

  I approached Guinevere’s house by the back door that was down a small alley. The door opened to a square kitchen that was empty. I moved through the kitchen to the door that led into a small foyer. I heard Martha in the little dining parlor, but her back was to me. On the second floor, I found Guinevere’s bedchamber, which was not difficult for the white cloak thrown over a small chair. Restraining the urge to toss the cloak into a fire—if there had been one lit, I would have done so—I looked around.

  Her chamber surprised me. It was decorated with flower paper, embroidered bed covering, and two vases of roses all in shades of yellow and pink. I do not know what I was expecting; daggers and poisons perhaps. At the side of her bed, I laid the bouquet on her pillow where she could not fail to notice it.

  Once again on the ground floor, Martha was no longer in the dining parlor. The door to the kitchen was open, and I heard her singing.

  Drat!

  I stepped off the stairs, my eyes trained on the kitchen door. I did not want to hurt Martha, but allowing her to see me leaving the house was impossible. Taking her unaware and knocking her out was the only way. Stepping toward the kitchen, the front door knob jiggled, and Martha’s singing ceased. My heart staggered. I panicked, ran into the parlor and hid behind the open door.

  “Martha,” Guinevere called out, “I have returned.”

  “Did you accomplish what you wanted?” Martha asked, also in the foyer.

  “Alas, no, but I will. I am going to my chamber to change, and then I will help you with the bread.”

  Martha went back to her singing, and I heard Guinevere’s light tread on the stairs. Finding the foyer empty, I ran to the front door and quickly departed; fear and joy mingled together.

  The white phantom is Guinevere. Guinevere resurrected Pierre. Guinevere had money, not the poor orphan we thought she was, and was connected to the Holy Order, whatever they were, and she probably was not Richard’s ward at all. I would put nothing beyond those two.

  Once across the street, and pausing to look at her window, she stood with the bouquet in hand. She must have found the card or feather, or both, for suddenly her head jerked toward the window, and her eyes met mine. She was enraged. Good! Instead of clapping or dancing a jig I put my gloved fingers to my lips and released them toward her. I was wearing Jack’s mask, so she would think it was Loutaire sending her that message.

  ***

  The next morning, it was nearing eight when I went down the stairs and heard Jack speaking to someone in his library. “Who is the female? Do you know her?”

  Levi’s eyes met mine over Jack’s shoulder, and he clamped his mouth shut as I walked in to the library.

  “Was your mission successful?” Levi asked, making me want to choke him.

  “What mission?” Jack asked.

  “It was not a mission so much as a task,” I replied, but both of them were staring at me, so I sighed and told Jack what I had done.

  There was complete silence for a few moments as Jack’s jaw worked back and forth. Levi took a step back. “Why would you do that?” Jack asked with deadly calm. Jack shouting was something I could handle, but Jack’s low voice meant danger.

  “It needed to be done,” I said, squaring my shoulders and meeting his gaze without wincing at the ice in his stare.

  “That was not your call, sister.”

  “I will just...” Levi’s sentence hung as he nearly ran from the room.

  “Coward,” I hissed at him as he passed by me, receiving a boyish grin in return before he disappeared around the corner.

  Jack dug his fingers into his black hair as he lowered himself to the sofa. “I take it that you are the one who stole the iron?”

  “I did not steal it. I returned it to its rightful owner.” With a cunning message that she would not be able to ignore.

  Before he could reply, the front knocker sounded three times. It was too early for callers, but when Andrew stepped into the foyer, everything within me twisted and turned until I was one large knot of nerves and anticipation.

  He is here to propose.

  Was I ready? Looking at his fine form and kind manners as he greeted my mother in the foyer, yes, I was ready. He turned his head, and his eyes met mine.

  He did not smile. He pulled his gaze away as my mother led him into the library. I stepped to the side but watched his every move. His shoulders were stiff, and he balanced on the balls of his feet like he was about to run.

  Mother directed him to a chair, but he shook his head. “Thank you, but I am afraid that I cannot remain long. I have come to bid your family adieu. Even now my carriage waits to take me to my uncle.”

  Everything within me stumbled, and cold slithered from my stomach up to my chest taking a pick axe and chipping away at my heart. He was leaving—without proposing.

  “Surely you will not travel in this bitter weather,” mother said, as she cast me a pitying look.

  “I have put off my departure for too long, but I could not leave without bidding your family farewell, for you each have been so kind to me during my sojourn in the metropolis.”

  Kind? For each spoken word, there were a hundred unspoken ones. With each moment that he would not look at me, I saw my future slipping away.

  “Do you mean to stay away long, Mr. Madison?” Jack asked, doing nothing to hide the anger in his voice.

  “My plans are, as yet, unsure. I never know how long my uncle will require my company. It may be many months before I am at liberty to return to this fair city.”

  A sob threatened to burst from my throat, but I held on. I would not break down. I could not. Andrew moved to my mother and bowed over her hand and then turned to me. I extended my hand mechanically, and when his fingers touched mine, I willed with everything inside of me. Look at me. Look at me! But he would not meet my eyes. He released my hand almost as soon as he had touched it. My eyes burned as the moisture built.

  “I do hope that we shall meet again one day,” he said to the room, then smiled, but there was no warmth. He walked from the room with Jack on his heels.

  Mother sank to a chair moaning audibly. “That is it then.”

  Saying nothing, I moved to the door. Giving up was not me; I had to do something, say something. When I reached the door, Jack was speaking.

  “Surely you will stay long enough to speak with my sister. You gave me reason to believe...” Jack let the rest trail and something inside me broke, shattering into tiny slivers that cut me all over.

  Andrew shook his head as he picked up his hat from the side table. “I regret...truly. I had hoped—” he broke off, shaking his head again. “I must go.” Andrew held out his hand, but Jack crossed his arms scowling up at him. Andrew lowered his hand, smiled sadly, turned and stepped out of the door, taking my dreams
for a future away from the Phantoms with him.

  I looked down at the floor, noticing that my hands were shaking. I will be strong. I will be strong. I will be strong. I could not be strong. A sob caught in my throat.

  “Please, excuse me,” I whispered to no one in particular before running up the stairs.

  In my chamber, sobs wrenched my chest, but no tears came. Heat and pain swirled all around me, forcing me to my knees. I covered my head with my hands, pushing as hard as I could, and screamed into my hands. My heart ached so much that I screamed deeper.

  What have I done? What could I have possibly done?

  A voice in my head sounding like my father said, ‘You have failed again. Always failing.’

  My forehead dropped to the floor as I sobbed. It was not fair. Three times. Three times had I opened my heart and lost. First, with my father, then Ben, and now Andrew. Rocking on my knees, I kept my eyes closed, my cold hands covering my face, willing the pain away.

  When my knees hurt, I laid on the floor curling into a ball. My body felt like a hollow cavern with a cold wind surging through all the emptiness.

  Someone came to my door, but I ignored them until they went away, and I was left alone. Always alone. I lay on my floor for an hour before finally shoving my hair away from my face and pushing to my feet. How I gained the will to rise I do not know. Numbness was covering me, but grief had ruled me for too long. I was a Phantom; a fighter. I would not spend years pining for Andrew as I had Ben. Having suffered enough disappointment for three lifetimes, my heart said no more. As I had been determined as a child, I was determined once more never to give anyone the power to disappoint me again.

  Chapter 24

  Bess

  Six days passed in the same routine. I was trying to remain untouched, detached, but it was increasingly harder as Jack watched me with a look of deep hurt in his eyes; as if my pain was in some way his fault. With each member of my team, it was the same. They had heard of my disappointment, and they hurt for me. When one hurt, we all hurt, but I did not want them to take on my pain. I wanted them to help me destroy Levitas, so that I could leave the Phantoms behind for good.

  There had been no more Levitas meetings, and I was close to deciding to spend time with Nicholas Mansfield so that I could know when the meetings were to be held. That, or capture Guinevere and force her, by whatever means that I could create—and I was an exceptionally creative person—to tell me all.

  One pitfall to my plan to leave the Phantoms was money. Being that I was not to be married, my fortune was tied up until I was twenty-five. Six years. My mother could not marry Richard, so unless Jack or I married, we would be destitute, forced to sell the house, move some place smaller, and possibly remain Phantoms so we could continue to receive our small stipend. The answer arrived six days after Andrew had abandoned me.

  A deep voice came from the open front door, and I looked up to see Mr. Hobbs, my mother’s man of business, enter the house.

  He was a short, plump man with a balding head and his brown suit too small. He shook hands with Jack, and they congenially came into the library. I tried to smile at him, but failed horribly, having not smiled in six days.

  As Mr. Hobbs greeted Mother, Jack stood next to me, but did not touch me, and for that I was grateful.

  “Mrs. Martin, I come with good news.” Mr. Hobbs opened his leather case that he was clutching in his hands and withdrew a stack of papers. Those he handed to her.

  Mother looked from Mr. Hobbs’ smiling face to the papers and started to read. When she reached the second page, she suddenly looked up, and Mr. Hobbs chuckled with glee.

  “Is this God’s honest truth?” Mother asked, in a whispered voice.

  “Indeed it is Mrs. Martin. I am pleased to be able to inform you that you are again an excessively wealthy woman.”

  The room was completely silent as we stared at Mr. Hobbs.

  “How is this possible?” Mother demanded after a full minute.

  “If you will turn to the next page, you will see where Captain Carter and Captain Townsend wish to buy your ships from you.”

  Ships? I looked at Jack, who was equally confused. Mother cast us an uneasy look, then turned her attention back to Mr. Hobbs.

  “I thought the ships were lost,” Mother murmured, almost reverently.

  Mr. Hobbs smiled, his fat cheeks puffing out even more. “So too did I until last week. You will remember that I had to go to Baltimore, and while I was there, who should I chance to meet but Captain Carter. His story is intriguing.”

  “One moment,” Jack said. “What are these ships you speak of? My mother does not own any ships.”

  Mr. Hobbs shifted uncomfortably while Mother straightened the papers in her hands without looking at us.

  “It is true that I own two ships. They were a wedding gift to your father and I from a family friend.”

  A wedding gift? If she had two ships, why then were we so poor when we first arrived in America?

  “You may remember the Lutania. It is the ship that we came to this country aboard.”

  Jack took a step back. Neither of our parents ever once spoke to us about owning ships. “Where are these ships now?” Jack asked.

  “On their way to Charleston in the Carolinas. The ships are merchant ships, and your mother had the fortitude to secure captains to become privateers during the war. We had thought that the British had captured them, as we had heard nothing from the captains in three years.”

  “Where were these captains in the last three years?” I asked.

  “After the captains made it through the blockade successfully, other merchants heard of it and commissioned the captains to sail their goods for them. The captains, being men of honor, have finally returned from a successful time at the helm.

  “Together, we went over the account books of how the goods sold and the list of how shares were divvied. The captains split their shares with Mrs. Martin. You shall see the total sum, if you will look upon the last page. With the selling of the ships, which I have acted for Mrs. Martin in agreeing, knowing her financial situation, the total is rather substantial.”

  Jack and I both moved to stand behind Mother’s chair as she shuffled through the stack of papers. She pulled out the last paper, and we all read until we reached the total. I let out a gasp in astonishment. Mother opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came forth.

  As if he could see our doubt, Mr. Hobbs said, “The profit comes roughly to eighty thousand—”

  A cry escaped me, from where I knew not. All of our financial issues were at an end. My mother need never marry; I need never marry if I did not wish to, and Jack could do whatever he wanted. Jack started to chuckle which turned into a loud laugh springing from deep within. He leaned over the chair and planted a kiss on my mother’s cheek.

  “I did not think that you would be averse, so Captain Carter has bought the Queen’s Reward and Captain Townsend the Lutania.”

  My mother nodded and stood, taking the papers to Jack’s desk. She pulled the quill toward her and signed the deeds.

  “There is one final matter. I have heard from Mr. Hamilton’s man, and the settlement that he is prepared to make is most generous. He will settle upon your children, on the terms that they remain living in this house with your current servants.”

  My joy melted like butter in a hot pan over a large fire. Not only were Richard’s terms highly improper, but degrading, as well. That he would put such a stipulation upon my mother did not surprise me, but that my mother would appear so calm was what angered me more than Richard’s debase actions.

  “Surely all this talk of settlements is premature as they have not set a date,” I said, with more calm than I felt.

  Mr. Hobbs said nothing as he tucked the signed papers into his satchel and stood, looking uncomfortable. Mother walked with him into the foyer.

  I faced Jack, who was pacing before the fireplace. “Do you believe this will alter mama’s decision about Richard?”


  “You may be sure of it,” Jack said with grim assurance.

  Mother reentered the room at that moment, exclaiming, “What a day this is.”

  My eyes dropped to my clasped hands as the pain that had been pushed away during Mr. Hobbs’ visit was again claiming the center of my thoughts.

  “I have informed Hobbs that I want the entire sum received to be settled on my children.”

  My eyes shot up. “Why? With that sum of money, you could live comfortably for the rest of your life. You need never marry anyone.”

  Mother shook her head. “I am marrying Richard; he will provide for me.” Without another word, she left the room.

  “What say you now?” I demanded of Jack.

  “I believe that she has some deeper motive that she is concealing from us.”

  He could be right, but I was not so convinced. There was something to be said about companionship. I felt it as I was sure that my mother did, as well.

  “You do understand what this means, do you not?” I asked. “As soon as word spreads that we have gained an even larger sum than people believe us to have, they will circle like vultures. The light will shine even brighter upon our family, and our every move will be noted,” I explained as I paced the room. It was not good. Eventually, someone was bound to discover who we truly were.

  “Bess, not all men are vultures and out to hurt you. Madison is a scoundrel, but the man for you is out there.”

  “Indeed, Jack? And would you say the same about Guinevere?” I snapped at him. Jack looked down at his boots, and I was instantly contrite. “Forgive me, Jack. I did not mean to snap. It has been a trying week.”

 

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