Phantoms In Philadelphia (15 page)

“I have heard that there were some dashing pirate
captains who roamed the seas a hundred years ago.”

Miss Clark laughed. “The way you
speak it sounds as if you would like
to
marry a pirate.”

“No,” I replied after a thoughtful moment, “it would
be most uncomfortable, never knowing if he were alive or dead. And,
sadly, pirates are no longer the fashion. Now, a pirate catcher, I
could marry one of those. I would get to meet some real
pirates.”

Miss Clark and Edith laughed, and then Edith
snorted, and we three laughed together.

Edith’s carriage was the first to call for her, and
after she had left, Miss Clark lingered. I had my suspicions why.
When I walked with her into the foyer, she glanced at the closed
library door speaking with perfect candor.

“I had hoped to see your brother.”

“He will be most desolate to have missed seeing you,
but Jack tries to be away from home when my gentlemen callers
arrive. He says it hurts his poetical heart to see them making
cakes of themselves.”

She was watching me thoughtfully. “Jack?”

I never did get the chance to reply, for when Arnaud
opened the front door for her to go out, Richard and Nicholas were
standing on the other side.

Drat!
Where was Jack?

Miss Clark looked as if she were
thinking the same. Richard had wasted no time in bringing Nicholas
to me; devil take him. Richard greeted us both kindly, but Nicholas
looked as if he would like to gobble us up, one for dinner and the
other,
dessert.

“How fortunate we are, Richard, to come upon two
such lovely roses.”

His attempt at flattery left us untouched. The man
required instruction. Dudley could train him in the art of
compliments. I nearly laughed at the thought of sticking Dudley to
the task. Miss Clark did not reply to Nicholas, but bid me good-bye
and went out of the house without a word to either man.

“Will you not come into the drawing room? Arnaud,
please bring tea.” I led the way to the drawing room, but stood at
the door for them to enter. The library door open and Jack smiled
and slipped out of the house.

Do make haste,
Jack
,
I thought
and then entered the lion’s den.

Jack

W
hen I
heard Miss Clark’s voice in the foyer with Bess, I felt like a
coward. My earnest desire was to go greet her, but Richard’s words
came back like a raging rapid, and I knew that if I saw her, it
would only make matters worse. I enjoyed her company, but as a
gentleman, I could not pursue her when she belonged to
another.

Then hearing Richard and Nicholas enter, my mind
went to work. I went to my desk and unlocked it removing my pistol
and a knife. My pistols were always loaded when kept at home. Leo
saw to that.

Deciding to walk the two roads to
Nicholas’s house instead of going for my horse, I made good time.
When I reached his brick townhouse, I surveyed it from across the
street. I did not know how many servants he employed, but it did
not matter for I was determined to search that house.

The back of the house was built
against the back of the house behind it giving it neither a yard
nor a back entrance. I decided to try my luck at the front door.
Excited energy spiraled along my spine as I walked up to it like I
was master of the house and turned the knob. The door led into a
small draft entryway as most well built houses had. There was
another door that led into the foyer, so I eased it open enough to
look into the house. It was empty, and all appeared quiet. The fact
that the house was unlocked said that someone was there, but they
may have been in the kitchen. The foyer was small and narrow with
two doors on the left wall and a staircase built against the right.
The first door was a blue parlor, but it was the second open door
that drew me to it. It was Nicholas’s study. Across from the study
behind the staircase was a small dining parlor, but it too was
empty.

I went into Nicholas’s study and
closed the door. There were two bookshelves and a desk on the far
wall. That was all the furniture, and there were no windows, but
there was a fire burning in the fireplace offering enough light to
search the room. I started at the desk. There were blank sheets of
paper and extra quills and ink stands, but what I found interesting
were his expense accounts. Glancing over the figures
revealed
that the man spent money like my
mother. I closed the drawers and went to the bookshelves, but they
did not move or reveal a secret compartment. The man had horrible
taste in literature and some of the books were
fake
. It hurt my literary mind being
in the same room.

The fireplace was made of wood, not marble, and as I
knocked along the small columns that flanked the front sides, I
discovered they were hollow. I pressed each piece of the border
that was running along the mantle until one piece sunk in. A piece
of the wood separated from the rest. Excitement rose within me as I
reached my hand into the secret compartment. It was empty. My
excitement wilted. I searched the other side of the fireplace, but
it did not contain a secret compartment. I rose, wondering if I
should search Nicholas’s bedchamber.

He struck me as the sort of man who would hide his
valuables beneath his bed. At the top of the stairs, there were two
bedchambers, and I went into the one on the right. It was bare
except for a small bed with a patchwork quilt, a wash basin, and a
mirror. I found nothing, so I went across the small hall to the
other bedchamber. It was done in shades of blue, from the bed
hangings to the curtains and the rugs covering the wood floor. My
reflection surrounded me from where a looking glass hung on each
wall. There were also three smaller glasses on his dressing table
that you could hold in your hand.

The man was a prancing popinjay. Chuckling, I began
my search. I searched around and under the bed, sounded the four
posts and even stood on the bed to feel along the canopy. Nothing
was there. I jumped down from the bed and brushed it smooth then
went to the dressing table. There was nothing around or under that
could conceal the box. There was a wardrobe, but no closets or
hidden compartments.

Looking around the room, I wondered about Nicholas.
Richard had said he could afford to keep Bess in style, but from
his house and spending habits that did not ring true.

Pushing the thought away, I moved
to the fireplace. It was another wood creation, so I pushed the
same part of the border as I had in his study. The same piece slid
back. I sucked in a hopeful breath and placed my hand in the
compartment. My hand struck something hard. It was a small sword
that had been wrapped in a cloth, and it was jammed in there tight.
Gritting my teeth, I pushed and pulled on the wrapped sheath. My
arm was held at an angle, working the blade forward. I pushed back
on the hilt, and it moved. After removing the sword, I left
Nicholas’s bedchamber. I needed to get out of the house
quickly.

In the foyer, as I reached for the knob to let
myself out of the house, the outside door opened, and Nicholas’s
voice floated through the interior door. A small dose of panic
struck me. I dashed into the parlor, my gaze sweeping the room.
Long damask curtains around the window presented me with a place to
hide. I whipped behind one, pressing my back against the wall and
making sure that the curtain concealed all of me.

“I tell you, Richard, you are in for a deal of
trouble with those two,” Nicholas said. “Thinking of your living in
the same house as that pup of a poet is enough to set me in
whoops.”

My teeth clenched painfully as I stared at the dark
blue fabric, focusing as if I could see Nicholas through the heavy
material.

“I shall manage. If he gets in my way, I shall deal
with him accordingly,” Richard replied, and my fist tightened on
the hilt of the small sword.

“What of Helen?”

Hearing my mother’s name used so freely by Nicholas
shot bolts of heat through me. He deserved to rot in a cell where
rats skittered across the floor, and there was always a cold
draft.

“My wife shall do exactly as I bid. Do not forget
that I am master in my home.”

“I do not see her children acquiescing as easily,”
Nicholas retorted then laughed.

“And I do not foresee any issues,
for I shall not have them in my house.” For a painful moment, all
was silent, and Richard continued suavely. “John will surely wish
for a house of his own,”
that’s the
truth,
“and Elizabeth shall be
married.”

“Unlikely. I tried, truly I did, but the woman is as
cold as stone. She would not have me.”

“She
will
have no say in the matter. It is that pup, as you call him, who has
the final say, and I can wield him to my bidding.”

That arrogant fatwit!
I started counting. My father had always
said,
‘When in anger, count.’
I was suddenly missing my father. He and I had not
agreed that often, but he was a King compared to that vile
snake.

“We have spoken of her fortune, and you know the
arrangement. You pursue her, shower her with words that a young
girl wants to hear, and when you ask for her hand, John and I will
grant it.”

“She’s not
that
young, my friend. After spending
some time with her I believe, we need to alter that
agreement.”

“You do?” Richard’s voice sounded menacing, like he
was glaring at Nicholas.

“If I am to tie myself in matrimony to a girl, not
of my choosing, then I should have the larger portion of her dowry,
not you.”

I could scarce believe my ears. The
counting in my head grew louder, more determined, for I was one
comment away from pulling out the small sword and making a mess of
them in the middle of Nicholas’s parlor.

“My dear Nicholas, you must try to overcome this
fruitless passion you possess for Hannah Lamont. She will never
have you.”

We were in the right. Hannah is the white
phantom.

“If only she would be a little understanding,”
Nicholas whined.

“My dear fellow, your suit is anything but
acceptable to her. Let us focus instead upon a sure suit.”

“I do admit that the money would be agreeable, and
Elizabeth is not wholly without charm.”

I will destroy him. Slowly.

Nicholas spoke again, this time in a melancholy
voice. “No, it would not do. You know as well as I that I cannot
keep a wife here. She would only be in the way.”

“There are solutions, Nicholas. Marry Elizabeth,
become the possessor of her fortune, and then send her to England
to live with your mother.”

“That could answer, and mummy does need someone to
cook and clean for the actors at the theatre.” Nicholas gave an
audible sigh. “She is no Hannah, but if one cannot have the prize
pony, one must settle for the next best filly.”

“Good,” Richard said, and I could hear the smile in
his voice. I wanted to make it so he would never smile again.

“Now, go and fetch Sværd af lyn. I have a desire to
see it.”

The sound of shoes walking across the foyer floor
told me that Nicholas had left the room. Reaching my hand beside
me, I tried to feel for the latch to the window. If Richard moved
anywhere near the settee, he would see me perfectly. I needed to
get out of there before they discovered me.

“No!” Nicholas screamed from above stairs.

Time to go. I heard feet on the foyer floor and
Richard’s voice calling to Nicholas as he went up the stairs.
Unlatching the window, I leapt through and ran down the street. I
turned the corner and ran in the opposite direction of my house in
the chance of pursuit.

Half of an hour later when I finally reached home, I
went in through the servants’ entrance. Mrs. Beaumont was in the
kitchen and not at all surprised to see me below stairs. She
assured me the house was empty of guests, so I went in search of my
sister.

Finding her in the drawing room, I entered asking,
“Was it a kind of revenge that you did not keep them away more than
half an hour?”

Her head shot up from over her embroidery hoop, and
her mouth twitched at the corner.

“No. I tried to keep them here as
long as propriety and my stomach would allow, but they insisted
upon departing. I take it that they went to Nicholas’s
house?”

“You need not smile so,” I said
harshly and shut the door behind me. As I unwrapped the small
sword, Bess came to stand beside me. “This is Sværd af lyn.” The
blade was sharp and perfectly polished. The handle was of black
leather with a silver knob at the top. There was a phoenix engraved
on one side of the knob and an L on the other side.

“What does it mean, Jack?”

“I do not know, but it is far safer in our hands
than those of Nicholas Mansfield,” I replied as I ran a finger over
the phoenix.

“I will have you know that the vile dog tried to
stroke my waist.”

“What the devil was he doing anywhere near your
waist?” My voice rose louder than I intended.

Bess shushed me then explained. “When Richard pulled
mama from the room on some pretext, Nicholas sat beside me before I
could dissuade him, and then his hand was about me.”

“Did you stick him with your embroidery needle?” I
asked, hoping.

“No, but Mrs. Beaumont came in and railed at him.
She started speaking of Saint Peter, the pearly gates, the fire
pits of Hell and men who took advantage of unsuspecting maidens.
That was why he and Richard insisted upon taking their leave.”