Phantoms In Philadelphia (Phantom Knights Book 1)

by Amalie Vantana

Bess

  30 June 1816

  We received our first word on George early on Sunday morning. It came in a letter that was hand delivered to the house by a young boy who said it had been misdirected. Jack and I were at breakfast when Arnaud brought it in. It was from one of our informants in New York, and he said that he had found George alive and well.

  Jack exhaled loudly as he read over my shoulder. Our informant assured us that he would see to it that George made it back safely, once the snow melted. I should have been relieved, as Jack was, but I could not release the suspicion that all was not as it appeared.

  Every week since returning home from Washington, one of my agents had gone out searching for George, but to no avail, and then we hear that he was in New York. It did not work together in my mind. How did he get to New York?

  George Crawford had led the Charleston Phantoms, a team in South Carolina until my father’s death. George had then thought it his duty to move to Philadelphia to ‘oversee’ my new leadership.

  George was one of the more boisterous against my being the leader instead of Jack. He did not believe as my father had, and he never failed to let me know of his disapproval if I failed in a mission. I appreciated George and his care of my mother after my father’s passing, but there were times that I wished he had stayed in Charleston.

  When Jack left the house to go for a ride, I ran up the stairs and into my chamber. Mariah was there, and when I told her what I wanted, she dug through my wardrobe until she found the black dress that I had worn to my father’s memorial service. Concealed under the skirt were my work clothes. Mariah had sown buttons onto the waistband of my breeches and the inner collar of my shirt and then she buttoned them into holes that she had made under the dress. It was inventive, and no one would ever guess that my drab black gown contained the clothes that I wore when working the job that my father created.

  Mariah helped me wrap my chest to make it as flat as a man’s; then I dressed as Mariah opened my trunk and removed the fake backing to reveal three pistols, two daggers, and our masks. After pulling on my black breeches and black shirt, I handed her my wig which she placed inside the trunk. I pulled on my boots and tucked two pistols into holsters on my belt and a knife in each of my boots.

  Something occurred to me that I had been remiss upon, so while Mariah locked my trunk, I asked, “Have you and Jericho set a date?”

  Mariah’s hand stalled on the lock, then she slowly rose, and there was a faint blush on her smooth cheeks. A lock of her dark hair fell across her face, so she tucked it timidly behind her ear. “Yes.”

  I threw my arms around her. She laughed as she returned my embrace.

  “I am taking you shopping this week. You must be married in a new gown.”

  “That is not necessary, Bess,” she said softly, and that was why I adored her. She was possibly the loveliest girl I had ever laid eyes on, but her beauty did not affect her. She used it to her advantage on certain missions, but in our everyday life, she was sweet and soft spoken.

  “I know, but two of my dearest friends—my family—are to wed. It is the least that I can do.” I turned away to tie my short hair back with a black ribbon and tucked it neatly under my hat. I picked up my mask and walked to the door, but paused before going out. “Do cover for me, should Jack return before I do.”

  Mariah sighed in a long-suffering manner, but her light blue eyes agreed.