Phantoms In Philadelphia (17 page)

“If you will allow me,” I motioned
to his head. At his nod, I moved around him to check his wound.
Gingerly, I touched his sandy colored hair. It was thick and wavy,
curling at his nape, and very soft. There was an awful bump on his
head, but it was not bleeding. As I helped him to his feet, he
swayed, so
I put both my hands on his arms
to steady him.

“Thank you, Miss Martin.”

I frowned, perplexed. He knew my name, but I had no
notion who he was.

“Bess!” Jack ran around one of the carriages,
sliding on the loose rocks. He halted when he saw who I was
with.

“Madison, are you all right?”

I glanced sharply at Jack and then
up at the man who stood several inches above me.
Andrew Madison?

“Martin,” the man nodded to Jack then winced
again.

“John, do not stand there gaping. Help me to get him
to his carriage.”

Jack moved to his side, and together we supported
him through the line of carriages until we found the one belonging
to Mr. Monroe.

The driver looked nonplussed as we helped Andrew
Madison into the carriage. When he was seated, I told Jack to go in
search of both Mr. Monroe and our mother. Jack looked mutinous for
a moment, but gave in and moved away quickly.

“Thank you for your assistance, Miss Martin,” came a
tired voice from inside the dark carriage.

“It is I who should be thanking
you, Mr. Madison, for if you had not come to my rescue, I do not
know what would have happened.”
I would
have fought, but it might not have ended well.

“Miss Martin,” he said, and I looked into the
carriage where his head was resting. He leaned forward to look me
in the eyes. “I know that we have not been properly introduced
but,” he paused for breath, “might I be permitted to call upon
you?”

I was taken aback, not so much from his words as
from a rush of flutters in my stomach which were uncommon for me.
“I shall be honored, Mr. Madison.”

He smiled, and the flutters began to dance a
minuet.

“I say, Andrew, are you hurt?” Mr. Monroe asked as
he came up beside me.

“A bump on the head, nothing more.” Mr. Monroe
turned to look down at me.

“Mr. Madison very kindly came to my aid and was
struck on the head by a cudgel.”

My mother came up beside me and wrapped her arm
around me. “How can we ever thank you, Mr. Madison, for your brave
rescue of my daughter?”

“Knowing that Miss Martin is safe is all the thanks
I require,” he said, rising in my estimation.

“You must both come to dinner.” Mama looked to Mr.
Monroe. “Tomorrow evening?”

Mr. Monroe agreed and climbed into his carriage.
Jack closed the door, and we stepped back.

“What was that all about?” My mother’s voice was
sharp as we watched the carriage drive away.

“Nothing you need worry over. Jack and I have
everything well in hand.” So I hoped.

***

While Jack and I rode to Miss Clark’s house the
following morning, he questioned me about the attack. I had a
suspicion about what was afoot, so when I reached the black
carriage, I asked the driver if he were Mr. Monroe’s driver and
when he answered in the affirmative I told him that Mr. Monroe was
detained.

It was an unfortunate misstep that made me think I
had everything well in hand. I was about to move away from the
carriage when Jack yelled for me. There was a man inside the
carriage I had not seen, and it was he who had grabbed me. I
supposed to him one captive was as good as the next. I was indebted
to Mr. Andrew Madison. He had come to my aid and attacked those
dangerous men without an outward qualm. I was impressed and could
hardly wait until he came for dinner. Only thirteen more hours to
go.

Jack and I met Miss Clark outside
her house punctually at seven. When he had told me about his
assignation, I had offered for Edith and me to go along. He looked
as if he would deny, but I promised that I would follow if he did
not allow me to go. I had also
learned that
she was not betrothed as Richard had said.

Jack was smiling like a besotted fool when Miss
Clark greeted him. Her eyes were only on Jack having not noticed my
presence, and the look that passed between them spoke more than any
words ever could. They were smitten. Discomfort arose inside me. It
was not unnatural that Jack found a young woman in whom he showed
interest; the Lord knew he deserved only the best, but therein lied
the problem. We knew next to nothing about Miss Clark. She was
lovely, granted, and I found her both witty and intelligent, but I
did not know if she was good enough for Jack. Jack was my little
brother; I relied on him, and he relied on me. If some other female
became first in his affections, he would cease to need me. Jack was
the only person who needed me, and the truth of it hurt.

Miss Clark looked to me, and I smiled. I had to give
her credit for not showing her disappointment on her face in seeing
me; it was only in her eyes. From first impressions, she was the
sort of girl that I would have chosen for Jack, had I been a
matchmaking female, but I was not.

When I greeted her kindly, she replied by saying,
“Please call me Guinevere.”

“What a beautiful name, and you must call me Bess.”
I glanced at Jack and found his eyes intent upon Guinevere. She did
have a poetic name. “I do believe you have rendered my brother
speechless. A near impossible feat I do assure you.”

I did not know how she did it, but even her laugh
was unique. Like a song flowing from a harp. She insisted that Jack
also call her Guinevere before gathering up the reins. “Shall we
set off?”

I looked around, asking, “But what of your groom?”
Even though we did not have a groom with us, I was with my brother
and I never rode alone in the city without either Jack or
Jericho.

Guinevere explained that she found the groom that
Richard assigned to her to be a nuisance, so she did without his
presence. I would have done the same had I not my secret to
protect.

The ride to Edith’s was silent as we had to maneuver
through traffic. When the Harvey’s mansion came into sight Edith
was mounted and waiting for us.

Guinevere said nothing, but I could see that she was
not best pleased to see Edith. We stopped before the general’s
house, and Edith greeted us cheerfully. Her forest green riding
habit was lovely, accentuating her ivory skin and the deep
chocolate color of her eyes. Her cheeks were rosy from the chilly
morning air, and her spirit was high.

Edith and I rode together ahead of Guinevere and
Jack, but once we were outside of the city, we were able to ride
four abreast.

“I must say, Bess, that I am thankful that you are
here with us. I was never more shocked in my life than to hear of
those horrid men attacking you,” Guinevere said. “What possessed
them to try to attack a woman of our class?”

Edith paled. I would not have chosen to speak of
such happenings before her, but Guinevere was curious. I assured
Guinevere I did not know. It was not me that they were after, but I
would never breathe that to a soul outside of the Phantoms, so I
turned the topic to something less alarming.

“Tell us, Guinevere, from where do you hail?”

“Boston originally, but when my family died, and I
was left in the care of my guardian, I moved to Baltimore and then
here.”

She had my deepest compassion, for I knew what it
was like to lose a parent.

My father had not been an easy man to understand.
Hardly anything I ever did met with his approval. When Jack and I
went to work in Baltimore, and our father remained in Philadelphia,
I was relieved, even if there was a war going on. Jack and I grew
closer, and for the first time in my life, I felt like someone
appreciated my efforts. We were no longer walking in my father’s
shadow but making shadows of our own. I pulled my thoughts away
from my father when Guinevere said words that surprised and amused
me.

“Shall we have that race, Bess? Across the field to
those trees?”

“Ladies do not participate in horse races.”
Disapproval laced Edith’s words.

“You need not participate. You may stay here and
watch, but I shall race. On my count.” Guinevere counted to three,
then her chestnut took off across the field, and after only a
second, Edith urged her horse to follow.

Jack looked at me, warning in his voice. “Bess, do
not win that race.”

My grin was surely incorrigible as I pressed into my
dapple grey. He did not have the speed of Pegasus, but he was
strong. The cold wind whipped against my face and tugged at my hat,
but it was secured by many pins. With each rise and fall of the
horse, I felt freedom––from restraint, from the weights pressing
against my shoulders. It was glorious.

We reached mid field, when a flash of blue from off
to my right caught my eye. As I glanced over, another rider charged
across the field from the trees. I did not take the time to look at
the rider’s face as I pushed into my horse, determined not to lose
to three racers. I passed Edith easily enough, but was behind as
Guinevere noticed the rider and urged her horse faster. Guinevere’s
chestnut and the other rider’s white horse charged along at a
breakneck pace. I knew I would not win the race, so I pulled my
horse to a trot and watched, a twinge of envy settling in my
chest.

My cover depended upon my acting the lady at all
times when not at work but how I would have loved to best them. I
found myself mentally cheering for Guinevere.

The two riders were side by side
until at the last moment when
the new rider
eased up, and Guinevere’s horse reached the trees first. I wondered
if Guinevere knew it. I rode to the trees and pulled up my horse
ready to congratulate Guinevere, but all words stuck in my throat
as I recognized the new rider. Hannah Lamont.

“Elizabeth, I am surprised to see you participating
in such sport, no matter how inexperienced your performance.”

Pasting on a smile, I spoke with a sweetness belying
my true feelings, “It would have been fruitless to try harder.
Guinevere clearly holds the advantage.”

Hannah’s eyes narrowed. If looks could kill, I would
be laid dead upon the ground. I would have come back to haunt her
so it was better for her that her venomous looks could only amuse.
Hannah turned her attention to Jack as he rode up, but Jack was
staring at Guinevere’s flushed face with appreciation and awe. His
whole face was softened and unguarded for a moment, but it was long
enough for warnings to ring in my head. I had never seen Jack look
so...besotted.

Hannah moved her mount next to Jack, blocking his
view of Guinevere. She smiled and batted her eyes at him as she
tried to engage him in a flirtation.

“What nerve,” huffed Edith, low enough that Hannah
could not hear.

I thought about reassuring
Guinevere, but decided against it. To offer the woman any help
would give the impression that I approved of Guinevere’s obvious
feelings for Jack, which was something I was not ready to do. It
would take a special woman to win my approval, and even though she
was
like
the woman
I would have chosen for him, I did not think her Jack’s
equal.

Guinevere stared at Jack a moment longer before
pulling her eyes away. She shrugged a shoulder, and my estimation
of her rose. “We must see what we can do to put her in her place,
mustn’t we.”

I laughed, thinking to myself that the odious Hannah
Lamont may have met her match.

Hannah joined us as we rode back to town, staying at
Jack’s side and flirting shamelessly. Even when Jack started
speaking about Reverend Gideon Reid’s church and sermons Hannah
would not move from his side.

We delivered Edith home first, then rode on to
Guinevere’s house. When we reached it, Hannah looked at Guinevere.
“Oh, have we arrived so soon? And here I have monopolized all dear
Mr. Martin’s time.”

Jack dismounted and helped
Guinevere from her saddle. She looked up at Hannah. “No matter. I
am sure we will have ample time to speak over dinner
this evening. Good day, Mrs. Lamont. Until this
evening, Mr. and Miss Martin.” Guinevere’s groom took her horse
away as Jack remounted, and we rode with Hannah to her house. She
tried to wheedle an invitation to dinner, but Jack and I both
refused to comply. When we reached her house, we bid her good day
and rode away without a second glance.

“Did you know Guinevere was coming to dinner?” I
asked Jack as we rode toward home.

“No, but I am not surprised. Mother told me she had
invited the Harvey's, so you may be sure she wanted an even number
at her table.”

When we arrived home, it was as Jack had said. Since
Richard was dining with friends, mama had invited Guinevere.

“She will be in my charge when Richard and I marry,
so it is only right that we all become better acquainted.”

From the smile hovering on Jack’s lips he agreed
wholeheartedly.

***

When Andrew and Mr. Monroe arrived, I was surprised
speechless. In the light of the candles, Andrew Madison deprived me
of breath, and at the same moment, filled me with nervousness. He
was not precisely handsome, not in the common way; his nose had a
bump as if it had been broken, and there was a sternness to his
face, but there was also something striking about the contrast of
his strong jaw and the softness in his green eyes.

At dinner, my mother had placed me between Andrew
and Mr. Monroe. When I asked Andrew about his aunt, telling him all
of the good that I had heard about her, he was thrilled.

It was well known that Mrs. Dolley Madison had been
in Washington during the war when the British took the city. She
and a faithful servant loaded a cart with valuables, including her
husband’s documents, and departed the city before the British army
set ablaze the President’s house. She escaped the city and
capture.