Phantoms In Philadelphia (8 page)

A large hand grabbed my leg. My heart leapt so hard
I thought it would stop. As my stomach roiled, alarm echoed in my
head. I clutched my pistol and looked down at where the giant was
still laying. A moment passed then his rumbling snore sounded
again. The giant was asleep. Slowly I turned my torso. The giant
had a hold of my leg in his sleep. I bent, carefully pulling my
leg, but he held fast. If I could get him to shift he would release
my leg, but it had consequences. If I moved too much, it could
awaken him.

A distraction was needed. My calling card for the
Phantoms was a black feather which was the reason that my mask was
shaped like three stacked feathers. Pulling a feather from my
pocket, I leaned toward the giant, barely running the feather
against the end of his nose, repeating the action until the giant
removed his hand from my leg to rub his nose. I jerked my hand away
before he could touch me, and moved from the bed.

Midway down the stairs to the first floor, the same
stair creaked under my feet. It shifted. A smile curved up my lips.
Moving down two more steps, I knelt to pull on the creaking board.
There, within the stair, was a compartment. Feeling inside, my hand
immediately touched a dagger hilt. There was nothing else was in
the compartment so after taking the dagger, I put my black feather
in the compartment, the sign of Loutaire of the Phantoms, then
replaced the board. At the bottom of the stairs, I unsheathed the
dagger, running my finger along the top of the blade. Grooves and
ridges met my touch, assuring me that it was engraved, like the one
pictured in the Levitas book. I sheathed it and tucked it into my
belt.

As I pulled on my ankle high boots, a shadow passed
the window, and I tensed. It was not Leo or Levi coming to check on
me, for they knew not to leave their post unless they received a
signal from me. Pressing against the far wall was the only place to
hide.

My back touched the wall as the
door creaked open further. A figure slipped into the house, and
immediately I knew it was no ruffian who stood upon the threshold.
Incredulity was mine; it filled me as my arm began to throb where
she grazed me with her shot six days ago. With the light behind
her, the woman in white appeared as a faceless ghost. Her long,
white cloak was around her, the hood covering her hair, as she
moved further into the room. She did not sense my presence, but
from the way she moved without making a sound, she knew someone was
in the house. That begged the question of how she made it past my
deputies. She began quietly to sound the boards.

I considered capturing her, but if she did not work
for Levitas, it was too great a risk of exposure for the Phantoms.
Until I could discover more about her, I had to leave her free.

A wicked, tantalizing thought entered my head.

The woman in white deserves a fright. Nothing too
terrible, merely repaying her kindness to me.

My smile widened as I watched her work her way
around the room. She made it to the corner where the back wall and
the wall I was leaning against met. I had to act with haste and
precision or not at all. I took three silent steps toward her. In
her oblivion to all else but searching the boards, she did not
sense my presence until my hand was over her mouth and my other arm
wrapped around her waist. I locked her arms against her sides. She
jerked around, trying to fight me off.

A wildcat.

She twisted and threw her body from side to side.
When that did not work, she threw her head back, but I was able to
move my own to the side before she could hit me. She growled under
my hand and threw an elbow to my stomach. One of her arms got loose
in my moment of grunting. A flash of silver appeared right before
she swung a knife toward me, trying to slash my arm. Grabbing her
wrist, we struggled against each other for control of the knife. I
pushed her arm down, backing her against the wall then releasing my
hold on her mouth to pin her arms against the wall. She opened her
mouth about to call out, and panic seized my chest, then my mouth
pressed against hers, cutting off any sound.

For a moment, she stopped struggling. If she were
feeling an ounce as surprised as I was, it was no wonder she
stopped struggling. Breathing was the last thing I was thinking
about. The edge of my leather mask touched the lace of her white
mask. Her lips were soft as feathers. Her small feminine body
pressed against me caused me to begin to lose sight of why I was
kissing her. I could feel every rise and fall of her chest as her
breathing came in quick successions. For that brief moment, she was
warm and most inviting.

The moment ended far too quickly. Her whole body
went rigid in nothing short of rage. She jerked her head from side
to side, trying to break free from my hold. I pulled back, but kept
her arms pinned against the wall as a deep chuckle escaped my
throat. In one swift movement, I pressed my forearm against her arm
and grabbed my pistol from my belt then placed the end of the
barrel against her cheek. She went completely still, all but the
rise and fall of her chest.

As I stepped back, I released her but kept the
pistol against her cheek. The rigidity of her body assured me that
she did not doubt that I would use the pistol. As I backed to the
door and pushed it fully open with my boot, it creaked on its
hinges as moonlight flooded into the room. The light was against my
back, but it illuminated her. She took a cautious step toward me,
but stopped when I held up the Levitas dagger in the moonlight. As
her mouth parted; her anger was so full that it heated the cold
room.

Pleasure coursed through me at besting the woman.
Backing out of the house, I threw her a mocking kiss on my fingers
and slammed the door. Down the alley, I ran, leaping over the
sewage puddles. Light appeared through the second floor window, and
a voice started to shout.

Leo met me at the entrance to the alley and as we
ran from the houses; I questioned Leo about the woman in white, but
he assured me that he saw no one enter the alley. When we met up
with Levi, he said the same.

How had she gotten past them unseen?

After we had separated from Levi at his apothecary
shop, Leo and I moved toward home, and I could not wipe the smile
from my lips.

“That woman could have been a phantom the way she
sneaks around,” Leo said from beside me. It was a disconcerting
thought, but it gave me an idea.

“That is what we will call her.” Leo stopped to look
at me. “She is now the white phantom.”

Jack

27 May 1816

S
tanding
between my mother and Bess, we greeted the arriving guests at the
foot of the stairs. It appeared that all of Philadelphian society
would turn out for Bess’ ball. Nearly every family had an
unattached son in tow who begged for the honor of a dance with
Bess. When my good friend Dudley Stanton had learned that we were
home, he had hurried to the house yesterday to beg Bess for the
first dance, and since she had no previous offers, she accepted. I
saw Dudley pushing his way through the throng of well-dressed
persons.

Dudley Stanton was the epitome of a fashionable man
from his light brown hair arranged artfully messy in a windswept
style to his black tight-fitting coat. He was the kind of man who
would never stir out of doors if his cravat was not tied precisely
to his liking. When he bowed, I heard the sound of creaking, which
caused me to bite the inside of my lip to keep from laughing. Dud
insisted upon wearing a corset beneath his too-tight clothing. It
was a fashion from days gone by, but as Dud was both short and
plump, it was for the best. Over the last year when we were not on
a mission, I had gone into society a few times with Dudley.

I glanced at my sister, and she, too, was trying to
control her laughter. When Dud greeted Bess, a look of such longing
came into his eyes that Bess glanced at me in a plea for help.
Dudley had been in love with Bess from the time we first met him
upon moving to Philadelphia, but his feelings were unrequited. She
liked him well enough, but what Dud refused to acknowledge was that
Bess saw him as another brother.

When Dud looked as if he would remain at her side, I
stepped in and moved him away.

We made our way toward the drawing room, bumping
into others that were also trying to make their way through the
crowded foyer. Dud was telling me that it was finally his time;
that he would win my sister and how her beauty grew each time he
saw her. When she moved home three months ago, Dud had nearly lived
on our doorstep. He was at the house every day, until we left for
our mission in Washington.

As we reached the drawing room, I glanced over the
assembled guests crowded into the room. The furniture had been
removed and was replaced with small chairs that lined the walls and
a small ensemble of musicians with stringed instruments. The middle
of the floor was for dancing.

My name was called, and I looked to my left to where
a group of my friends were hovering in the corner. I waved but did
not go to them. It was my duty as the head of the house to greet
all of the guests before I spent the rest of the evening with my
friends.

The gold scrollwork on the ceiling glittered, and
the candles in the gold sconces on the yellow walls flickered.
Added to that, were the two crystal chandeliers that hung from the
ceiling, and you had a room fitted for any palace.

When Bess appeared at my arm, it meant the start to
the dancing. Dud elbowed me out of his way, as he took her hand and
led her to the center of the floor. As they were joined by other
dancers, I leaned against the wall for a moment to watch. Poor Dud
had to tilt his head back to be able to see Bess’s eyes, but her
height never once bothered him. He was a man in love, and what
others considered flaws, he considered marks of beauty. The truly
sad fact was I would give my consent to their marriage if Bess felt
different. I could not say that about any other man in the
room.

At the end of half an hour, I had greeted several
people, passed by some with a nod and a smile, and stopped beside a
few who hailed me. With my duty done, I was making my way to my
friends, when I heard my name being called. I turned to my right
and nearly cursed.

Mrs. Campbell, a plump, nosy, outspoken woman, was
beckoning to me with her large, feather-edged fan. There was no way
to escape the inevitable, so I fixed a smile on my lips and moved
to greet her. I bowed, but she gave me no time to speak for she was
off like a horse at the races.

“Why are you not dancing? If due to the selection,
then I do not blame you. Watery, the lot of them.” She swung at me
with her closed fan, and I stood still, taking the rap on my arm
without a word. I focused on her purple turban as she went on.
“Your sister of course is the reigning beauty, but you will hardly
dance the night with her.” She then changed subjects. “Are you sure
that you prefer the church to marriage? I know of a young woman who
would suit you well. My niece Elvira is biddable, perfect for any
young man.”

To my complete annoyance, she waved at someone with
her fan. As I turned I collided with a young girl, freckled and
gap-toothed. The top of her head bumped into my chin, and unruly
hair tickled my nose. She grasped hold of my arms, but she was in
no danger of falling. I placed my hands on her arms setting her
back and getting my first good look at her.

Saints preserve me.
She could be no older than fourteen. That was one
of the downfalls of being a member of high society, playing
agreeable with people you would rather not play with at all. But, I
knew my duty, so I bowed.

“Ask the girl to dance,” Mrs. Campbell urged, with a
sly smile.

There was no way out, short of fire or my death, or
Mrs. Campbell’s. I bit my cheek to keep from grinning at that
pleasant thought as I extended my hand and asked for a dance. She
showed not the slightest reluctance, as she clamped onto my arm and
pulled me toward the other dancers.

As the music struck up, Elvira
never once looked at my face, too occupied with looking at her feet
and counting her steps. Try as I would, she would not be engaged in
conversation. I was determined to keep away from Mrs. Campbell and
her niece for the remainder of the evening. As we passed by where
Bess was standing, she cast me a brilliant smile, one that told of
her amusement at my expense. I crossed my eyes, making Bess laugh
and tip her champagne glass, spilling some on one of the men vying
for her
attention.

As we went down the line of dancers, I received some
piteous looks from my friends. Most of my friends avoided Mrs.
Campbell like she was a plague trying to attach to them and rob
them of their lives or bachelor status. For some, it was the same
thing.

There was some stir amongst the men as they edged
their way toward the door or elbowed each other, smiling. Then I
saw why. My heart gave a startling lurch and began beating like it
wanted to escape my body as my eyes locked with the hyacinth eyes
of the woman from the Inn. Jolts of energy were dancing along my
spine as a smile formed on her pink lips. My chest tightened in a
way that was both painful and foreign. It felt like someone had
sucked all the air away from me, but yet I felt more alive than I
had in the past seven years of missions, espionage, and battles of
the war.

Something solid bumped into me shattering the
moment. I drew my eyes away as I caught Elvira about the waist,
trying to keep us both upright. Something akin to an apology flowed
from her lips, but she cast an imploring look at her aunt. I
offered an apology of my own when the music faded.