Phantoms In Philadelphia (27 page)

“No,” he said, but I was all ready going for it.

He leapt across the bed as my hand
touched the handle. His weight landed on my arm, and I cried out.
He wrenched the gun from my grasp and tucked it into the back of
his breeches as he stood. I whipped out my second pistol. He
dropped instantly
to the floor on the other
side of the bed, completely out of view. I jumped to my feet and
started to climb over the bed, when my ankle was captured. He was
under the bed!

He pulled hard, and I flew
backward, my backside smacking on the hard wood floor. Pain
vibrated through me, but I only had a second to think about it
before my other ankle was caught, and I was pulled under the bed. I
dropped my pistol in an attempt to catch hold of the bed frame, but
he was stronger. He pulled me all the way under and through the
other side and sat on my stomach. I groaned as a puff of air left
me under his weight. What he failed to do was capture my arms,
so
I threw one good punch against his jaw.
His jaw was covered with a short beard running from over his top
lip down along his narrow jaw. He was a handsome man, curse
him.

“That’s not polite,” he said through clenched but
perfect teeth as he caught my wrists.

He stood and pulled me up with him. Once I was on my
feet, all that separated us were my hands that he held between us.
I had to tilt my head a little to look into his eyes, which were a
light bluish gray. Everything within me stilled as I stared into
their depths that looked as if they knew no bounds. His eyes were
like two perfect thunderclouds with gray strikes of lightning
dancing around the iris.

Even with the mask covering his nose and half of his
forehead, I could tell that he was more than handsome. There was an
intensity to him, and when he smiled, I felt it in every nerve of
my body. I took a step back. He still had my hands clasped between
us as he took a step forward. I took another step back, and my legs
bumped against the bed.

In a skilled movement, he knocked
my foot out from beneath me with his own and I tumbled backward,
landing on George’s soft mattress.
I
struggled to get up, but his arm came across my chest, holding me
pinned in place.

My breaths came in short, fast intakes, but as I
looked into his eyes my panic melted away. He did not have the look
of an attacker, neither was he doing more than staring at me. I
could defeat him.

Our gazes remained locked as his
free hand fished in his pocket, and he
brought a white handkerchief up and rubbed it against first
one of my cheeks and then the other.

“Just so,” he murmured, and his
warm
mouth was upon mine in a
breath-halting embrace.

It was the kiss of an expert, of that I was left
with no doubts. His mouth moved over mine until my lips parted.
Warm, firm, possessive; he was the master of the situation. It took
me a few heartbeats to react, but react I did. I threw my fist
against his side.

He groaned against my mouth and pulled back,
smiling. He had an alluring smile, another thing I found annoying.
His finger came up and stroked my cheek. He pushed off the bed and
moved to the door. I sat up, leaning against my elbows on the bed
and watched him open the door. He cast me a quizzical look then
went out, slamming the door behind him.

By the time I grabbed my pistol—he
had stolen the other one,—and went to the door, he was gone. I did
not know where he went or how he moved so swiftly or what he was
doing in George’s house, but I knew that I did not want to be there
any longer. I ran down the stairs, pulled off my mask, and slipped
out the front door.

When I finally reached my house and went up the back
stairs, I was fuming. Why had I not done more? I could have bested
him.

No, I could not.
I knew the truth, and it only added to my
anger.

We were to attend a party that evening, so when I
reached my chamber, I pulled the bell for Mariah and threw off my
hat and boots in angry, jerky movements. I ordered a hot bath, and
when it was ready, I stepped in and sank down until the water was
to my chin. I remained in the tub for some time thinking about a
pair of stormy eyes and a foe that deserved to be beat.

***

When we arrived at the Harvey’s house for a dinner
party, Andrew greeted me warmly, bringing relief to my troubled
mind. I had not been able to put the startling and unfortunate
events of the day out of my thoughts until I was standing beside
him. Edith had said it would be a small party, but the table was
set for twenty persons; not as small as I had thought.

A few minutes later, Guinevere entered with Richard,
and as soon as they separated, I watched Jack go to her. Even from
across the room, I could see her shake her head and turn her back
to him, speaking instead with Thomas and Dudley.

Jack looked so hurt that I wanted to claw
Guinevere’s eyes out for treating him like that. But, when Jack
moved away, Guinevere turned, and her eyes followed him with so
much hurt and longing that I knew it had all been Richard’s doing.
She loved Jack as much as he loved her.

At dinner, they were seated beside each other, much
to Richard’s chagrin, but from my place across the table between
Dudley and Thomas, I noted that they did not exchange above twenty
words throughout the meal. Jack would try to speak to her. Her eyes
would move immediately to Richard, and she would say something or
shake her head and turn to the man to her left.

The entire day had been almost too much for me, with
the run-in I had had at George’s, and then seeing my brother’s
anguish and knowing there was nothing I could do, I needed a
reprieve. When they women left the dining parlor, I did not join
them in the drawing room but walked up the stairs to the large,
elegant landing. I sat upon a red settee in the small alcove with
my thoughts moving a thousand miles a minute.

“Elizabeth,” a smooth, deep voice said, and I
started, nearly leaping off the settee.

Andrew smiled. “I do apologize for startling you.
May one hope to have been the cause of such deep contemplation?” It
was meant as a light jest, but it carried the needed jolt. I stood
reaching out and took Andrew’s hand. Without thinking of anything
but needing some air and a moment of quiet, I lead him up the
stairs to the third floor. Andrew followed without a word until we
were passing the maid’s bedchambers. He asked where I was taking
him.

“You shall see,” was all I replied as I lead the way
into the attic.

“My dear Elizabeth, should I
be
worried?”

I laughed though it sounded rather overwrought to my
ears. In the attic, there was a ladder that led up a few steps to a
door. I pushed open the door and climbed through.

Edith and I had spent many evenings on the roof
stargazing when we were younger, but it was not for that that I
taken Andrew up there. I truly did not have a reason other than
needing air and not being able to get it by standing on the front
steps of the house. The air was cleaner on the roof, and the view
was magnificent. The roof was flat, so it was easy to walk, and
when we were both standing at the edge breathing in the crisp night
air, I spoke.

“Edith and I used to come up here before she left
for the seminary, before the war,” I told Andrew as I stared at the
lights that could be seen of the city from illuminated houses or
street lamps. Even the Delaware River could be seen in the
distance.

“Yes, the seminary.” He turned to look at me. “The
place where we first met.”

“Twice you have rescued me from intended capture,” I
replied, thoughtfully. I still was not sure about the second attack
on me. We had captured the men of the black carriage, but that did
not mean that Richard would not send out more. But, if that were
so, I would have to consider the possibility that Richard knew my
identity. It was unfathomable. Surely he would have struck against
me if he did know. He had had ample opportunities.

“I would do so again though I pray that the need
will never arise,” Andrew assured me.

With Andrew staring at me and the world feeling
miles away, I could envision my life with him. Comfort and
protection. The security that I had desired for years. To be loved
and valued. To be a wife and one day a mother. I would give up
everything else for it to come true. Jack could carry on the
Phantoms, or if not him, one of the others. Married to Andrew,
freedom would be mine.

Andrew’s head lowered a fraction, but paused,
hovering over my lips. “May I?” he asked huskily.

Slowly, intimately, I nodded. As Andrew eliminated
the distance between us and our lips met, anticipation danced in my
belly. His arm wrapped around my waist, and my hands moved to his
shoulders. His mouth was roving over mine, his hands moving along
my waist, when a horrible comparison sprang to mind.

No!

I did not want to think about that,
but it was too late. The comparison had come, and what I discovered
I did not like. Andrew went on kissing me, but I was doing nothing
but standing there. He broke the kiss for a moment before capturing
my mouth again in a heated, hard, wet kiss. I shoved everything
else from my mind and wrapped my arms around his neck.
There
.

Ten minutes later, when Andrew and I were making our
way down the stairs, he stopped me with a hand on my arm.
“Elizabeth, I want you to know that I do not take what has
transpired between us lightly. I await only a reply from my family
before I approach your brother for his blessing.”

He had said it. It was out there, and I knew I could
ask for no better man. He left me in the hall so I could go down
the main stairs alone with all propriety intact, while he went down
the back stairs.

When Mother, Jack, and I left the Harvey’s, I was
sure of my feelings. I wanted to marry Andrew.

We arrived home, and Arnaud was there to greet us.
“Miss Elizabeth, there was a gentleman here to see you.” I looked
around, but Arnaud told me that the visitor had left an hour
earlier. “He asked that I give you this. He would not give his
name; insisted that you would know.”

“Of course. Thank you, Arnaud.” I took the heavy
brown paper parcel that he held out to me, bid my mother and Jack a
good night, and ran up the stairs to my bedchamber.

Seated before my desk, I tore away
brown paper to reveal a box. As I lifted the lid, my heart jumped,
and all my happy feelings fell away. There was a sealed letter
lying atop a pistol.
My
pistol! Grabbing my letter opener, I tore through
the wax seal.

My dear Raven
,
the letter began, and my heart
started to beat an untimely rhythm.

My apologies for not introducing myself earlier, but
as you were trying to put a period to my existence, introductions
seemed the least of my worries. If I had known that you have such
spirit, I would have come to Philadelphia much sooner. I regret,
and oh, how I do regret it, that we shall not be able to meet
again, for, by the time you receive this message, I will be on my
way home. Know that I enjoyed our little interlude, and I look
forward to when our paths should cross again.

Ever your faithful chevalier,

Joutaine

As I lowered the letter, my face
was aflame in indignation and remembrance.
That dog!
I crushed the letter into a
ball. That roguish dog was none other than a Phantom leader;
George’s nephew Samuel Mason.

Instead of throwing the letter across the room as I
longed to do, I unlocked my desk and placed the letter in a book. I
would keep it, and when the time came, if it ever did that I met
with Samuel Mason again, I would give him the letter along with a
resounding slap for his audacity. He knew that I was Raven, and yet
he still behaved atrociously. Not at all as a leader should.

I did not know why Samuel Mason had been searching
George’s house, but at the moment, it did not matter. I had more
important thoughts to occupy my mind, and I would not waste another
moment upon an up-to-no-good rogue––no matter how well he could
kiss.

Jack

T
he
morning of the fourth day of July dawned frosty and chilly, but the
gray overcast could not stop the excitement of the day. After
breakfast, Andrew arrived. He had said he would only be staying for
a few weeks, but my sister had changed that. Something happened to
them at the Harvey’s party; I did not know what, but their
formality ceased, and they were behaving more like a betrothed
couple. Since I had not been approached with an offer for her hand,
I had questioned Bess. As she
blushed
, which she never did before
Andrew, she told me that Andrew was only awaiting a letter from his
family before he approached me.

Andrew was to escort my mother and sister to Centre
Square to hear the celebratory speeches; then later he would join
me as the festivities livened.

Andrew and I were standing in the foyer while I was
putting on my hat, when Bess appeared at the top of the stairs. She
was dressed festively in a long, blue coat with military style
fastenings, and her hat had a white ribbon with some small red
flowers. Her brown eyes were fastened on Andrew as she made her
descent, and I swear, I heard his breath come out in a low whistle.
Seeing them, the way they stared at each other, General Harvey had
to be mistaken. Andrew was in love with my sister and she, well,
she was on her way. Bess may have been taller than the average
woman, but next to Andrew she was perfect. When my mother joined
us, we set out.