Secrets In Savannah (Phantom Knights) (26 page)

What she was not saying was what I
knew. Guinevere would never tell all of the secrets. The fact that she would
show us even one meant that she was coming to trust us. To see us as her
family.

Guinevere entered the room with an
ink stand, and Bess followed with a sack and a hatbox. Bess removed the small
sword from the sack, and the dagger of secrets and book of incantations from
the hatbox.

Guinevere took the dagger of secrets,
unsheathed it, and ran her finger over the raised marks on the blade.

Pouring out some ink onto a piece
of parchment, she laid the blade in the ink then transferred it to a clean
sheet and pressed the blade. She rocked the blade until all of it had touched
the paper. She repeated the process with the opposite side of the blade, but
when she moved it to the parchment, she turned the dagger and pressed it across
the paper. As she began to remove the blade, letters that had been broken up by
the raised marks and the grooves came together, but there were some missing.

Guinevere took the ring that Bess
had found at the plantation and dipped it in the ink. When she placed it where
the missing letters were, the writing became decipherable.

Bess read it even though the
letters were in Danish. “Fidelity to the one, my Lord, my King.” As if struck
with knowledge, Bess gasped, taking a step away from the parchment. “If that
ring came from your country, as I suspect it did, how did my father get it in
his possession?”

Guinevere did not waver as she
replied, “He stole it.”

“From who?” Bess inquired further.

“Ma
belle
.”

Bess gave one final push, asking,
“And who is Ma
belle
?”

“My sovereign.”

Guinevere had just awarded us with
three new secrets, all larger than the rest.

Guinevere’s sovereign was a woman,
Ma
belle
was the rightful heir to Guinevere’s home
country, and she was hiding in America.

GUINEVERE

A
fter I had shown them the
artifacts and told them about Ma
belle
it felt as if
their determination and Phantom spirit was renewed. The light was again in
Jack’s eyes that had not been there since Philadelphia.

Jack thought that George could be
hiding in a place that we had not even considered. Lucas’s house. If that were
the case, then all they were awaiting was my uncle’s arrival.

All I knew was that somewhere in
this city George had my sister. If it meant tearing every board of Lucas’s
house apart to find her, that was what we would do. Or Jack would do since he
refused to let me go with him, Leo, and Sam. He claimed that it was due to my
needing a rest after witnessing Lucas’s death, but the truth was he was trying
to protect me. I knew it, he knew it, and Bess knew it.

In the parlor, I was not alone
five minutes when Bess entered with a tray in hand. She set it down before me
then took a cup and sat across from me.

“Can you tell me about my brother?
How long has he worked for you?” Bess asked, and I knew she did not mean Jack.

“From the day that he rescued me
from an attacker,” I said, watching for her reaction.

She looked up slowly from her cup,
her hand shaking the tiniest bit.

There was no shame in either of
our gazes, only a sort of understanding. We had each gone through the same
thing, by the same person’s vile assault.

“It was him, was it not?”

When I nodded, she glanced away,
breathing deeply.

“Then we both have reasons to be
grateful to Harvey that he can never do the same to someone less fortunate than
we were.” She sipped the coffee from her cup.

“How do you remain so strong,
Bess?” I asked, and she bit her lip, like she wanted to laugh or grin.

“Love,” she said simply, and when
I showed my confusion, she expounded. “Love makes me strong. It gives me
encouragement, determination, even stubbornness. I am strong because the people
that I love are strong, no matter if they cannot see it in themselves. So when
I feel like I cannot go on, I look at Sam, or Jack, or my mother and I allow
their strength to carry me, replenish me. I see them, and I want
to be strong.”

I wondered if it was the same for
Jack because he was the strongest person that I knew.

“What makes you strong,
Guinevere?”

Snapping out of my thoughts, I
grimaced. “I am not strong, Bess. I am terrified,” I exclaimed before I thought
to guard my tongue.

Bess laughed, then choked it off
with her hand to her mouth. She cleared her voice. “What I meant was what makes
you feel your strongest?”

There was no question in my mind.
Jack made me feel my strongest.

“Whatever it is, hold on to it.
Keep it close, and draw on it when you feel terrified. You are a strong woman,
Guinevere. Perhaps the strongest woman alive, even if you cannot see it
yourself.”

What Bess thought she saw as my
strength was truly my fear. It pushed me on for years. Fear for my sister’s
safety, and that our past would find us. That I would fail, and my family would
pay the price. For years I had kept that fear close at hand because it was what
drove me on. It built the determination within me to accomplish tasks that no
woman could have or should have been able to complete. It was not until Jack
came storming into my life that I understood true strength. He made me want to
be a person worthy of his love.

“I never apologized to you, Bess,
for
Levitas
, and for Charleston. I do, most
sincerely. It was never my wish to bring you harm.” I felt as if more
explanation was required. “In Philadelphia, I wanted to keep you from being
branded. I was prepared to rescue you, when Richard threatened to have your mother
take your place if I involved myself.”

Bess’s face softened. “Thank you,
Guinevere.”

As capturing her in Charleston was
done by a purely selfish motive, I did not mention that. Harvey had been having
me followed, he knew that I was near to quitting the Holy Order. When Bess
chased me to the warehouse and got herself involved, there was but one choice.
Harvey’s men were watching the warehouse. They would have seen and reported had
I not captured her and my plan to leave the Holy Order would have been ruined,
for Harvey would have locked me up.

Hannah came tripping into the
room. “Our shadow has returned.”

At the window, she pointed him
out. He was leaning against a tree in the green, watching the house and not looking
away. Something about the way he was dressed sparked a conviction in my mind.

“Hannah, will you take a turn with
me about the square?” I asked.

“This should be amusing,” Hannah
replied as agreement.

Together, we left the house,
strolling down the streets that made up Warren Square.

“Does our shadow follow?”

As we crossed a street, Hannah
glanced behind us. She grinned, and I motioned her to follow me down a path
between two houses.

As we hurried down the path, our
shadow hastened past the opening.

At the back of the houses, Hannah
opened a door and went in, leading the way across a kitchen. It became apparent
that Hannah had done this before, when we passed a maid and cook who smiled as
they bobbed curtseys.

Hannah led the way toward the
parlor, and when she swept into the room, Dudley Stanton was standing beside
the fireplace with a glass in hand. He saw us, and dropped his glass, the red
contents spilling down the front of his elegant waistcoat and white shirt.

“Blast!”

“Dudley, decorum,” Mrs. Stanton
sighed from her place on a settee. “To what do we owe this visit, my dears?”

“I confess that I do not know,”
Hannah said, but got no more out for a man burst into the house.

“Sir, they disappeared—” Dudley’s
manservant came running into the room, but broke off as he saw us. His face
colored, but it was nothing to Dudley’s which matched the red stain on his
front.

With an exasperated exclamation,
Dudley sent the man away, and sat his glass aside.

Leaning his arm along the
fireplace mantle, Dudley pursed his lips. “Oh, a twisted fate we do live, when
we live to twist the fates of others,” Dudley murmured. “I trust that you had a
pleasant stroll the other morning, Mrs. Martin.”

Ah, so that was it. “I did, thank
you, and I trust that you had an enjoyable stroll as well, Mr. Stanton.”

“You play a deep game, ma’am,”
Dudley told me as if I did not know.

“You have no idea what games I
play, Mr. Stanton,” I replied with feigned sweetness, “but your mother does.
Tell me, did Harvey instruct you to have me followed or was that of your own
brilliance?”

Dudley’s face reddened again;
Hannah gasped, but Mrs. Stanton laughed.

“My dear girl, Harvey is losing
control of the Order and he knows it. We of the twelve act as we deem proper.
Which is why I am here.”

“Would it not be more efficient to
work with me than to follow me?” I inquired.

Dudley shifted his weight.

“If it is aid that you require,
speak to Frederick,” Mrs. Stanton said with laughter edging her words.

A knock fell upon the door, and
when a portly butler led Frederick into the room, I had a feeling that Mrs.
Stanton held more control than Harvey was willing to admit.

“Ah, dearest, just the woman I
require,” Frederick said as he took my hand. He kissed it then drew a letter
from his pocket and placed it against my palm.

Unfolding the letter, there were
two pieces of parchment. One was a sheet that had holes cut out of it, and the
other was a letter writ in Harvey’s hand.

Sitting on a chair, I placed the
mask over the letter. It was written in a code that Harvey created long ago.
The letter was written in Danish, which Frederick and most people could not
read. The holes in the mask revealed a pattern of letters. The letters were
then to be matched up to a list of phrases. To make it more complex, only two
people knew the phrases on the list. Harvey, and myself.

If someone received such a letter,
they would bring it to me to be translated. I had the list memorized, and as I
knew the letters, I read the message with no difficulty.

“Harvey is on his way. He will
arrive within the week and requests a meeting of your court.” I halted and
glanced at Hannah then at Frederick. I was not sure that he wanted the rest to
be said before her.

Frederick grinned in his lazy
manner. “There is no reason to mistrust Hannah. Is there, Mrs. Stanton?”

Dudley’s mother blinked before
turning to Hannah. “I believe he is speaking to you.”

When those words sunk into my
thoughts, a slow grin tugged up my lips. Hannah and Dudley were married. She
winked at me before she moved to kiss Dudley’s cheek.

“How long?” I asked, and both
Dudley and Hannah smiled wistfully.

“Two years.”

My astonishment overtook me for a
full minute. Frederick had to snap his fingers to bring me back to task.

“If Harvey is on his way, my court
shall convene on Wednesday next, and that is when you will fulfill your end of
our bargain,” Frederick said with a satisfied nod.

A little while later after
Frederick had left the house, and Dudley and Hannah were engaged in a
flirtation, Mrs. Stanton invited me to sit beside her.

“There was more to that letter
than you led on,” Mrs. Stanton said, her knowing gaze disconcerting me.

The next part of the letter was
specifically for me alone, but I felt a strange desire to trust Mrs. Stanton.
With her being one of the twelve lords, perhaps she could provide some clarity
about Harvey’s cryptic words. “Harvey says the time has come.” My words struck
Mrs. Stanton so forcefully that she leaned back, fanning herself.

“What does it mean?” I demanded.

Mrs. Stanton cast a glance at
Hannah and Dudley before leaning toward me. “It means that Harvey is about to
declare war.”

JACK

L
ucas’s house was deserted when we
arrived, his guards having left it in disarray after his death. There was no sign
that either George or Edith had stayed there.

During our search of the house,
Sam had told me what he learned from Charlotte. She had told Lucas about the
artifacts, and the places that she thought they might be hidden.

Lucas was gone, but that did not
mean that he had not sent that information to Guinevere’s uncle.