phantom knights 04 - deceit in delaware (26 page)

Leo said nothing as he joined me on the staircase. It was covered in spider webs, but at least it was a way out. Or so I hoped.

“Come with us,” Leo said after a moment, startling me, but not the girl.

She grimaced. “And risk his anger? No, I thank you.”

“Will he not be angry with you regardless,” Leo ventured, as if he truly did know this girl.

She laughed as she began to pull the wardrobe across the track, closing off light in the secret passage. “Fortunately I know how to temper his anger.”

I gaped at her. No one knew how to temper Luther’s anger, for he cared for no one but himself. He did not give a thought for those he hurt. Especially his family. He had murdered his brother and his brother’s wife. He wanted me and my sisters out of his way. He had no scruples and less kindness.

“How?” The word slipped past my lips without thought.

She laughed again. “Because I am his daughter.” With that said, she placed the wardrobe over the opening, shutting herself away from us.

Leo’s hand guided me down the stairs by the small light that came through many of the cracks in the walls.

That girl. Melly. If she was to be believed, she was Luther’s daughter. But that could not be so. Luther had but one child, and I had met that one.

“Do you believe her?” I finally asked Leo when we were back in the dark forest. The sun had set a while ago.

“Yes,” Leo said simply.

Luther’s daughter. Which made her my cousin.

CHAPTER 20

JACK

W
e had cleaned up the yard as best as we could after the guards were taken away. Mrs. Stone, a fierce looking woman who was the housekeeper, was none too pleased to see the state of her china when she had emerged from the kitchen. Most of it was salvageable, but the broken pieces were beyond repair.

When Jeanne, Pierre, and Arnaud arrived from wherever they had gone, they did not appear surprised to see us all, or the state of things. They each jumped into helping us clean. It was when I saw my wife and Leo riding up to the house that I realized that she had been gone. I had thought her with her sister. That proved to be untrue the moment she approached me and said that I needed to call a meeting at once.

When Leo agreed with her, I did as she asked. We all gathered in the yard for the house would not hold all of us.

Levi was standing beside William, having not left his side since he arrived. Jericho and Mariah were staying as far from him as they could get.

Guinevere conducted the meeting, telling everyone where she and Leo had gone. My jaw clenched hard when I heard her say that she went into Luther’s house. That she made it out again was nothing short of miraculous. She had an answer for that as well. A girl assisted her, a servant. Or so Guinevere said, but there was something in her eyes, in the way she held herself that assured me that she was not telling the full truth. And she refused to look at William, which was a sure sign that she was wanting to keep whatever secret she had from him.

“Did you see my mother when you were inside that house?” Bess asked.

“No, but we did see Freddy. He is unharmed, for now. Luther wants to use him against the Phantoms, but he refused and demanded to be placed in confinement.”

That meant nothing to me. Freddy could change his tune just as quickly. Years of working together had taught me not to underestimate Freddy’s selfishness.

“What are your plans, Jack?” William asked, turning the attention away from Guinevere.

“My plans have not changed. We will surround the house with everyone except the Phantoms. The Phantoms,” I stared into my father’s eyes, “and only the Phantoms, will be the ones to enter the house and take Luther by surprise.”

All of the Phantoms nodded their approval, but it was my sister who was the first to speak against the plan, in a way.

“We need someone inside that house. Someone who can keep Luther from harming Mama when he realizes that we are attacking.” Bess met my gaze, her own stern and unyielding. “You may be certain that he will use her against us.”

“I agree with Bess,” William said, but his agreement did nothing to soften him toward my sister. She grimaced at his words. “Now, who do we send inside the lion’s den, and how do we get them inside?”

Everyone began to speak their names or the name of the one they thought best suited to the task. With their discussion holding their attention, William came to stand beside me.

“I have my own suggestion.”

Meeting his gaze, I smirked. “You? Is that not exactly what Luther wants?”

“As much as I wish to remove Luther from this world, our meeting is not yet at hand. No. My suggestion is you, and this is how I propose to get you inside that house…”

****

Standing on a wooden platform with my hands bound before me, I squirmed against the feel of rope around my neck. William had added an extra touch of what he called believability by making me stand on the platform shirtless. The breeze that blew through the trees caressed my naked chest and had me clenching my shoulders.

When I had agreed, I had left Sam and Bess in charge, and made certain to tell everyone that they were to follow their every order. If William was not pleased to be overlooked for the role of leader, he did an admirable job at not showing it. No, my father was quite at his ease as he oversaw the building of the platform.

My mission was to be a simple one according to William. He said that I would be rescued by Luther’s people, and then, once I was inside that house, all I had to do was to find my mother, Charlotte, and the young woman who Luther thought was Mary Edith. Bess had come to me and told me she was certain that Charlotte was also being held in the house. She refused to consider that Luther had disposed of Charlotte when he had captured our mother. I promised to do my best, and she vowed to do the same.

William assured me that even if Luther did not send his guards, the woman residing with Luther as his second in command would never allow me to hang. When I questioned William about her, having not heard of her existence, he shocked me with his response.

“She is the one responsible for Henry Shultz’s death. She is responsible for Bess’s ostracism from Philadelphia society. The rest of her crimes will reveal in time.”

Time was a luxury that I did not have.

Time begged the question: when would they come?

William had the platform built within sight of the country house’s front door. The guards had not attacked us, but watched with interest as Arthur and his guards built the platform, and then led me and two of Luther’s captured guards into position. We each had a potato sack covering our heads so that the guards at the house would not know that I was one of the men.

As one of the constables stood beside me at the lever, for he kept whispering reassurances to me, I moved my head toward the right, to where I knew William was hiding, as was my wife.

A man stood before the platform with a drum, beating a horrid tune to count down to my execution. When the beat changed into a drumroll, I knew that he was signaling the time of truth. The constable beside me whispered that the time had come. He began to pull on the lever that would plunge me to my death, for I heard it moving. For a moment, I began to suspect that this had all been a great trap that I had dumbly walked into. Then again, Guinevere would never have agreed. She was armed and prepared to kill any who stood between us. I kept my faith in her as I prepared for the drop. My rope was severed so that even if I did drop, I would, hopefully, not die.

Where are you?

With a loud gulp of air, the man beside me pulled the lever.

An explosion sounded from somewhere behind me and I was certain that it was my eardrums exploding from the jerk of death, until I landed on my feet and then dropped to my knees beneath the platform. Feeling my body for a sign that I was alive, I felt my heart beating in my chest.

I began to laugh rather hysterically. I was saved! The Lord be praised.

Horses’ hooves pounded upon the ground and shots fired from all around. The drummer fell to the ground before the platform. I heard him and his drum strike the ground.

“Bring him,” shouted a woman.

Boots hit the ground, and then hands were pulling from beneath the platform. When they placed me on my feet, someone removed the sack and rope from around my neck. They pulled me by the rope around my wrists.

Glancing toward the trees, I saw my wife’s face peeking through the low branches of a willow tree that stood near the platform. With the early morning fog, she truly did appear as a white ghost behind those branches.

My captors led me toward the two story stone mansion and through the front, double oak doors. Once inside, the doors shut firmly behind me and not only were bolts slammed into place, but a long piece of wood barred the door.

The men tugged me through a great hall with tapestries embroidered with family crests. The wood paneling was dark, and there were two large fireplaces, one on each end of the long room. There was a wide staircase at the far end of the room, but the men pulled me into a sitting room. It was smaller than the great hall, but would be the size of many houses. Bright blue walls and white carved trim running around the room gave it a cheery feel. Porcelain figurines lined the top of the marble fireplace, and the furniture was all covered in white fabric.

There was a man standing before the window with his back to me. When I was forced to sit on a chaise, he turned and I found myself staring into Luther’s face.

His dark hair was slicked back, his clothing was all elegantly cut, if rather foreign in the style for my taste. His boots were so polished that you could see your reflection in them.

“Young Jack Martin. How charming it is to see you again. Tell me, how is my niece faring?” Luther asked kindly. That was something I was coming to understand about the man. He could sound as kind as you please. Until he did not get what he wanted. Then he was a viper.

He sat across from me and ran a hand down his silver waistcoat that was embroidered with a motif of couples dancing.

“I thank you for saving my life,” I said, adopting his way of speech.

“I did not save you. She did.” Luther was staring over my shoulder, but I did not turn. As I expected, the woman walked into the room and stood behind Luther’s chair. She wore a veil over her face. Her black gown looked like widow’s weeds, as if she was in mourning. I could not see her face, but that was her intent.

“Good morning, Jack,” she said softly. Hearing her voice sparked a bit of recognition, but it ran off before I could place it.

This was the woman responsible for Henry’s death, and for placing the blame on Bess. She had lost Bess a betrothal and cost her months of disgrace.

“Good morning, Black Widow.”

She chortled. “What is it with you Phantoms and color? Black widow. White phantom.”

Shrugging my bare shoulders, I said, “We see things in black and white.”

She laughed gaily and even Luther chuckled.

“You sent for me?” demanded an annoyed voice from the door.

Turning quickly, I watched as Freddy was shoved into the room by the two men who had pulled me into the house. They forced Freddy to sit upon a sofa, closer to Luther than to me.

He looked at me and winced. “What has happened to your shirt?”

“What happened to your eye?” I retorted, for he had a nasty bruise around his right eye.

“My son did not agree with my request that he assist me in removing your band of misfits,” said Luther.

Everything in the room stilled for me as I gawked at Freddy without truly seeing him. Luther’s son? No, that was not even remotely possible. Freddy was an American. My father had known his father before his father died, and my father took him under his wing, making him a Phantom.

As my gaze refocused, Freddy was scowling at Luther.

“I can see your surprise, Jack,” said Luther. “My son neglected to tell his friends of his parentage. Except for your father of course.”

“How?” I asked just the one word.

“My son ran away with his cousins, quite unnecessarily I might add.”

“After we watched you murder the king!” Freddy rose to his feet as he shouted. Freddy looked to me. “It is true that I am the cousin of the future queen, but this man is not my father.” Freddy tossed Luther a despising glare. “He was never a father. After he murdered my mother, his wife, he took me to Lutania, where he left me to be raised at the palace, while he went around doing vicious deeds. It is no wonder that my allegiance lies with Rose.”

“Do not call her by that common name,” boomed Luther, rising to his feet to face his son. “She is Arabella, and she is the traitor. To abandon her home for so long. She did not care what became of them while I … while I, the true heir, was banished to squalor.”

Running my gaze over Luther’s attire, squalor was farfetched.

I did not ask why Freddy never told us, because Freddy and I had never been close. Allies, yes, friends, decidedly not. It would have surprised me if he had confided in me. I was sensing a pattern with the members of my wife’s family. They confided the whole truth in no one. It was the way that they knew to keep safe. My wife… She had told me nothing about Freddy. Though it clarified for me her trust in Freddy. He had been with them since the beginning. Of course she would trust him with an artifact.

“Where is Edith?” I asked, and Luther turned on me with fierce eyes. “Forgive me. Mary. If you have harmed her, I vow that you will not escape this with your life.”

Luther’s black brows snapped together. “Harmed her? No, indeed. At this moment, I expect that she is partaking of breakfast in her bedchamber.”

At first I thought he was lying, and then I caught Freddy’s head shaking. He did not want me saying more about her.

A commotion sounded in the great hall, and there was the sound of glass shattering, and then men shouting.

“Where is he? If you vagrants have harmed my brother, you will answer to me, every one!”