***
When Andrew and Mr. Monroe arrived, I was surprised speechless. In the light of the candles, Andrew Madison deprived me of breath, and at the same moment, filled me with nervousness. He was not precisely handsome, not in the common way; his nose had a bump as if it had been broken, and there was a sternness to his face, but there was also something striking about the contrast of his strong jaw and the softness in his green eyes.
At dinner, my mother had placed me between Andrew and Mr. Monroe. When I asked Andrew about his aunt, telling him all of the good that I had heard about her, he was thrilled.
It was well known that Mrs. Dolley Madison had been in Washington during the war when the British took the city. She and a faithful servant loaded a cart with valuables, including her husband’s documents, and departed the city before the British army set ablaze the President’s house. She escaped the city and capture.
“She is a treasure and a great credit to my uncle. It is the wish of any politician, or man for that matter, to have a wife who is not only a suitable hostess, but a woman of courage and kindness who will understand and uphold her husband’s aspirations and dreams.”
“Here, here,” Jack said enthusiastically from his place beside Guinevere.
“Like your mother,” Andrew added, raising his glass toward Mother.
When dinner was ended, and the men joined us in the drawing room, Mr. Monroe drew me a little apart from the rest as General Harvey regaled everyone with his war stories.
Mr. Monroe’s voice lowered so that only I could hear him. “I understand that George has gone to visit his nephew.”
“So I have been lead to believe, sir.”
He smiled as if I said something witty. “Do you know when he means to return?”
“Any day now, I am sure.” Mr. Monroe smiled again and patted my hand. It was what he wanted to hear. Even though I knew he meant the questions that he had asked, I also knew what he had not asked. He knew George was missing, and he knew that I and my team were searching for him. I considered telling him about my suspicions that the black carriage had been after him, but I held them in. Mr. Monroe had enough to consider without adding my own misgivings. I and my team would see to it that he was not disturbed again in such a way.
When my father formed the Phantoms, he had met with three men, an attorney, a soldier, and a politician. The politician was James Monroe. He knew about us and kept our secret without becoming involved, since our spy ring was not sanctioned by the government.
When we rejoined the others, Jack and Guinevere were sitting together, speaking in low voices to each other, Edith was speaking with my mother, so I had Andrew to myself.
“Might I ask you something, Mr. Madison?”
“Anything you please.”
“Would you tell me about your family? To come from a large family must be exciting.”
Andrew launched into his family history. He was the second of six children, and he was twenty-four, and as much as he adored his family home, he believed that his future was in politics.
Any question that I asked he answered, looking upon me with appreciation and approval. He watched me so intently that I knew he was committing everything I said to memory. In turn, I studied his every look; I listened for the sincerity of his words, and I watched where his eyes focused when he spoke. Everything had its own meaning to me. My work as a Phantom had taught me how to tell between lies and sincerity merely by the tone of the voice and the focus of the eyes.
He spoke of many different people and was pleased when I said I knew them. It occurred to me that there was a connection between the people. They were all politicians. Andrew Madison was looking for a wife and having the right connections was a necessity. He was good; I would grant him that. If I had been any other female of my social set, I would never have caught on to his way of questioning. Then realization dawned. My heart stuttered. I sucked in a short breath, and I stared. Andrew Madison, the nephew of the President, was looking to me as a possible candidate for his future wife. I do not know if I made another coherent reply for the remainder of our visit.
When he rose to take his leave with Mr. Monroe, he asked me if I would grant him the first two dances at a party Richard was to hold for Guinevere. I agreed, and the smile he flashed made my insides tumble. He had a pair of dimples that surely came from the angels.
What would it be like to spend a lifetime being the recipient of that smile?
I was fairly certain it would be heavenly as the Lord intended when he made Andrew Madison.
After all our guests had departed, my mother came over to me and laid a hand on my forehead.
“Are you coming down with something, my dear?”
“Of course not. You know that I cannot abide being ill,” I said as I pushed her hand away.
“I believe that my sister has a touch of love at first sight.”
Mama smiled. “Of course. He is charming and so handsome.”
“He is more than that,” Jack said, holding up a letter.
Excitement and interest sparked together. “Are those his credentials? Do, pray, let me see them.”
My mother shook her head, her face scrunching in disapproval. “My dears, one does not fall in love with credentials. It is the heart that one falls in love with.”
Jack’s resources knew no bounds. The paper was full of everything from a list of Andrew’s parents and siblings to Andrew’s years at school and his grades. Even his monetary value was there. I continued reading, about what Andrew had done after leaving college, a description of the house he was having built, and the size of his property; then spoke without looking up.
“Now that I have read this, I do declare that I am in love. His heart is pure gold.”
“Remember, my dears, credentials are not enough to build a lasting relationship upon,” Mama said before sweeping from the room.
I handed the letter to Jack, leaned back and sighed. I may have only just met Andrew Madison, but what I knew of him made me want to know more—everything—his likes and dislikes, his aspirations and dreams. To discover if he was someone I could trust with my heart, and more importantly, my secret.
Phantoms In Philadelphia (Phantom Knights Book 1) Page 20
