phantom knights 04 - deceit in delaware (16 page)

I moved around the chair with my hand held out. Looking up into President Monroe’s face, it was written in his eyes that Arthur had told him of my father’s reappearance.

“John, how good of you to come,” James said to me, and then looked over my head to William.

“James, my old friend, how delightful to see you again. And in the highest position our country has to offer. How … charming.”

James was frowning at William and did not move toward him but stared hard, taking in all of his features.

“The years have not been kind to you, William,” James said as he walked around his desk and sat in his high backed chair. Arthur followed him and took up sentry to the left of his chair, where he could stare William out of countenance, if William was a person who had a shred of human emotions.

“I have but one question for you, and I suggest that you weigh your answer with caution, for if I do not find your response to my liking you will find yourself in the deepest prison hole that I can contrive,” James said to my father.

William leaned back in his chair and placed his hands together in his lap, the look of serenity upon his countenance.

“How do you propose to extricate yourself from this most foolish and dastardly situation which you have led your family, and countless others, into?” James asked.

William smiled as if the answer was as evident as his playing the role of Harvey had been, which meant not at all.

“I am going to remove the threat which has destroyed so many lives and led me to take up the role of the one who you so obviously despise,” William replied.

“Which is?” James asked.

“His name is Luther and he is the brother of the late king of a small country called Lutania.”

That caused James’s brows to rise slightly. His expression said that he had heard of Lutania.

James considered William’s answer for long, silent moments. His blue gaze never wavered from William’s face. When James finally looked away, it was to stare at me. Fighting the urge to squirm in my chair, I clenched the sides of the chair with my hands.

“How many men do you need to defeat Luther?”

“As many as we can gather to our side,” I answered.

James picked up a quill and dipped it in ink. He began to write upon a piece of paper and we sat quietly watching him, with only the scratching of the quill making any sound.

“You will take this letter to Baltimore where you will seek out a Mr. Caruthers who is a constable in that city.” James had Arthur bring over a candle and James lit the end of a strip of wax. He let a few drops of wet wax fall upon the back of the folded letter and then he pressed a ring into the wax. When it was dried, he handed the letter to Arthur who brought it to me.

The seal was one for the President.

“He will see to it that you are given all that you require.” With that said, James looked up to Arthur. Arthur walked over to the door and opened it. I began to stand, thinking that was our signal to leave.

“Be seated, John,” James said to me, and I sat back upon the hard chair.

Arthur led six other men into the office and they took up sentry behind my father’s chair. Five of the men held muskets, and one held a pair of shackles.

“I take this to mean that you found my answer unsatisfactory,” William said to James.

“It is not a mark against the man that you once were, William. That man had my esteem, my friendship. It saddens me to say that that man is gone.” James nodded to Arthur.

“General Lucius Harvey, also known as William Martin, you are under arrest for treasonous acts against these United States of America. For your crimes you are to be detained until a court hearing is arranged to judge your actions, and a suitable punishment laid out.”

My heart sank and my stomach clenched tight. Though I understood James’s right to place my father under arrest, it caused a rift to form in my heart. Especially when you consider all of my father’s crimes. No judge would find him innocent. In the end, my father would either hang, or end his life in a prison cell.

“Take the prisoner into custody,” Arthur said to the man holding the shackles.

William rose smoothly, smiling in a placating manner, and placed his wrists together before him. Once the iron shackles were surrounding his wrists, William looked at me.

“It is up to you, my son, to finish the battle. Do not let me down.” His smile was curious. As if he knew something that the rest of us did not.

He was led from the room and I turned toward James once the door was shut.

“In light of these new discoveries, I believe it best if I withdraw my offer to you as the head of my guards. You understand, John.”

I did understand.

“Arthur and six of my twelve guards will be prepared to leave with you this day.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said, though my thoughts were in a jumble. “I must go visit my mother before we depart, but that should not take me above an hour.”

“Did Helen come with you, then? Do ask her to call upon Sarah,” James said, kindly.

My brows descended low over my eyes. My mother had been in the city for at least a few weeks, even if she did take a few stops in other cities.

“I certainly will, sir, though she did not arrive with us. She has been here for a few weeks, the guest of the Carmichaels, and chaperoning a Miss Mason who has come to be introduced into this great city’s society.”

James’s brows descended as mine had, and he looked to Arthur. Arthur shook his head, which caused my stomach to clench again.

“Perhaps she decided to make another city her destination, for the Carmichaels left the city a week hence, and Helen was not with them the last time we spoke.”

“Perhaps she did,” I said, and smiled, though I felt anything but reassured.

After bidding James farewell, I walked back toward my house feeling a familiar foreboding creeping into my body.

If my mother was not here then where was she?

CHAPTER 13

GUINEVERE

W
e had to wait two days before we could be about our mission to rescue Betsy and in that time we learned that not only had Arnaud seen Betsy in the presence of a group of men, but they were part of a freedmen group that went about the city preaching about equality to whomever would listen. What Betsy was doing with them when she was supposed to be in Washington with Nell was something that I particularly wanted answered. Jack and the others were in Washington so I knew that he would gain the answer when he saw his mother, but my greatest fear was that something terrible had happened to Nell and Charlotte.

We waited for the cover of darkness and then made our way to the harbor. According to Jeanne, who had stayed behind with Rose, there was a house two streets away from the harbor where the freedmen conducted regular meetings. She said that if we went at night we could take them unaware. We followed Arnaud to the nearest boarding stable, where we borrowed horses, and rode across the city until we found the street we needed. We decided to proceed on foot and left the horses tied to a hitching post. Leo, Dudley, Hannah, Arnaud and I walked down the quiet street.

All of the houses were the same in shape, but differing in color. There were a few houses that were lit with candlelight, but the others were dark.

We found the house that we were seeking about halfway down the street, but it was neither dark nor deserted. A carriage waited in the street, and a small group of men were huddled together before the door, talking, laughing, and smoking. Gatherings of freedmen were more common in the north than in the south.

At once Arnaud motioned toward a small gap between two houses. Dudley and Hannah ran into the gap and I followed with Leo and Arnaud coming in behind me. As we leaned against one of the houses, I watched across the street and down three houses to where the men were talking.

“Is that them?” I whispered to Arnaud.

“It is zee house, not zee same men,” Arnaud responded softly.

We began to make plans to attack, but when we looked back toward the house, the men had disappeared and the carriage began to move.

“Hannah, Dudley, and Guinevere, stay here,” Leo said. “Arnaud and I will check the house, but if you see anyone return, give the signal.”

Slowly, Arnaud and Leo stepped out of the narrow pathway between the houses. They started toward the house that was still lit. I heard boots scuffling a second before arms wrapped around my chest, locking my arms at my sides. Throwing my head back, it clipped the chin of my captor. Before I could take a breath, I was swept sideways and my legs were carried by one man as another carried my upper body while keeping a hand firmly planted against my mouth. They carried me through the end of the alley and along the back of the houses, with four other men guiding a gagged Dudley and Hannah behind us.

Confusion covered me as my captors placed my boots on the ground and told me to walk.

The moon shone through the clouds above, lighting the small path that ran along the backs of two rows of houses. The moonlight allowed me to see my captors, who were both as light as cream. I obeyed their order to walk, more out of a desire to discover what this was all about than to be conciliatory.

Dudley walked beside me but he was not being forced. None of the men touched him.

They directed us along two more paths until we were entering the very house that we had been watching from the alley.

It was a small, narrow place, but it was comfortable in its feel. There were chairs instead of the normal furniture to be found in a regular house. It was a meeting house.

They directed us to take a seat. Our captors stood about the room as a different man came in to speak to us. He was shorter than the others, not much above my height, and he was well dressed. His suit was of fine cloth, his vest was excellently cut, his boots shone brighter than Jack’s—making me wonder what he used to achieve such a shine—and he wore a fine timepiece on a gold chain. He was a man of importance if I had my guess, though he did not look much older than one and twenty.

He picked up a chair and sat it before us. Once he was seated, he crossed one leg over the other and smiled. His white teeth were even brighter against his dark skin that was the color of freshly turned earth. At once I was struck by his good looks. If Rose were here she would have used his smile and kind dark eyes as a lead for speaking with him. I said nothing. My approach to gaining information and my sister’s were not always the same. Rose believed in tactics and reading people, the same as most of the Phantoms. I believed in allowing them to tell me why they wanted me and then I would make my decisions from there.

“I give you good evening,” he said kindly, with a distinct northern accent. I would guess New York. “You may be wondering why we requested this little meeting.” He looked directly into Dudley’s eyes. “You see, when we see our brothers being oppressed, we find that we do not look too kindly upon that.”

Dudley gulped quickly. “I assure you, my fine sir, that I have never oppressed anyone, be they man or woman. I am a man of peace.”

Says the man who shoots arrows in the middle of a green surrounded by family homes.

The man across from us smiled in earnest. “Is that so?” He cast me a brief glance.

“Allow me to present myself.” Dudley stuck out his hand. “I am Dudley Stanton of Philadelphia, and this is my wife, Mrs. Hannah Stanton, and my cousin, Mrs. Guinevere Martin.”

The man across from us shook Dudley’s hand. “James Percy Wilson of New York.” He leaned back with ease. “We do apologize, Mr. Stanton, for the misunderstanding. We meant you no harm, you understand.” The undercurrent of his words assured me that it would be in Dudley’s best interest to say that he understood. They were not a violent group, but they took care of their friends.

“So,” he said to me, “you are the infamous Guinevere.”

Surprise colored me silent for a moment before I smiled kindly. “Have we met, sir?” I asked, though I was sure I would have remembered.

“That we have not, Mrs. Martin, but we have a mutual acquaintance.” His smile never faltered, but mine did, turning into a scowl.

“If you have harmed—”

“None of my brothers have touched you or your friends, so there can be no reason for complaint.” His smile, I realized, was as calculating as my own usually was.

“None whatsoever, Mr. Wilson,” I said, for it was the truth. “We have not been harmed, have we, Dudley, Hannah?”

They both shook their heads.

It was a law that no man of color could strike a white man. It did not matter what was happening to him, he would be the one found guilty. The men who had grabbed us were as fair skinned as we were.

Mr. Wilson turned his attention to Dudley once again. “Could I have a word with you in private, Mr. Stanton?”

“If I agree no harm will come to my family?” Dudley asked suspiciously.

“None at all. You have my word,” Mr. Wilson said, and Dudley agreed.

Dudley walked out of the room and Hannah and I were left confronting five curious, unconcerned, or suspicious faces. They did not all keep their gazes fixed on us. Two of them sat down at a table in the back corner and picked up cards that had been deserted. Another poured himself a tankard of something, leaving only two to watch us.

The man who had grabbed me came over to sit before me in Mr. Wilson’s chair. “James means your cousin no harm, Mrs. Martin.”

“How long have you been an abolitionist?” I asked him conversationally.

He scratched his lightly bearded chin. “You got a problem with abolitionists, Missus?”

I held up my hands. “Not at all. My brother by marriage is one. He sought manumission for all of the slaves on his family’s plantation.”

“I reckon I’ve been fighting for the cause for as long as I can remember. My mama, God rest her soul, fought a hard campaign with my pa to have her childhood servant freed. That was James’s mother. We formed this here meeting where we help newly freed men to find a safe home and gain employment.”

“An honorable task indeed,” I said, to which he smiled and held out his hand.