The Charleston Chase (Phantom Knights Book 2) (31 page)

She looked down to her clasped hands, and my heart
ached for her. She had only twice before shown any vulnerability
that she felt; when I went to propose and when the Phantoms
captured Levitas, and I let her go. “I tried to save Bess, but they
captured her before she could get away.”

Her eyes rose to meet mine. “I know that I have led
you on a chase that seemed without an end, and you have no reason
to trust me, and I would not fault you if you hated me, for I know
that I have lost your love by my deceptions, but I mean to help
you. I will take you to Bess, today.”

Rising, I moved toward her, but did not touch her
though it pained me to keep my hands at my sides. “I do not hate
you, Guinevere.”

She would not look at me as she
spoke, her voice filled with despair. “How can you not? I have
betrayed you, your family, I have lied, and I
shot you
, Jack. How can you not hate
me?”

“Are you trying to make me hate you?”

She did not speak but shook her head.

“Are you planning to betray me again?”

“No!” she replied vehemently.

A tear slipped from the corner of her right eye. I
could take the space separating us no longer. I moved, slipping my
arms around her, pulling her against me until my head was resting
against hers.

“Have you never heard, ‘Love
covers a multitude of sins’?”

“First Peter, the fourth chapter,” she murmured
against my coat, “now the end of all things is at hand, therefore,
be sober, and watch unto prayer, and above all things have fervent
love for one another: for this love will cover a multitude of
sins.”

Smiling, I kissed her hair above her right ear. “So
is my love for you, especially when we are facing the end of the
Holy Order.”

“I love you, Jack, and though I can never apologize
enough, know that I regret every moment of every day that I
betrayed you.”

“You have my forgiveness,” I said before kissing
her. It was neither as long or as passionately as I longed for, but
there were too many prying eyes in Sam’s house.

She and I walked hand in hand toward Sam’s house. We
neither of us spoke as we entered the book room through the tall
window.

Sam was there, hunched over a map. He glanced up,
and when he saw Guinevere, he straightened.

“Guinevere has come to offer us her aid. She will
lead us to Bess.”

“Why should we believe you,” Sam asked her, his eyes
filled with the intensity that he usually only directed at Bess. He
was rather intimidating like that.

“You should not,” Guinevere replied evenly, “for I
have given you no reason to do so, but I am your only hope of
rescuing Bess in time.”

Sam’s sharp gaze turned menacing, “In time for?”

Guinevere held her back straight as she said, “The
Holy Order means to kill Bess.”

Sam shot forward, capturing Guinevere’s arm. She
winced but did not cower.

“If you lead us astray, you will not escape my
wrath, and I assure you it is a fate worse than any the Holy Order
can hand down.”

I gripped his arm. “Release her, Sam.”

Guinevere’s chin rose as she looked up at Sam. “I
would expect nothing less.”

Sam looked at me, and I held his fierce gaze with my
own. He released her arm and stepped back. She rubbed her arm, and
I saw tears in her eyes. Placing my hand on the small of her back,
I guided her to a chair before Sam’s desk. I pulled the other chair
closer to her, sitting beside her.

“I will give you the address and meet you there, but
if I do not return within two hours, they will know something is
not right.”

“You are not going back there!” I said.

“I must, Jack,” she said, holding my gaze.

“Where is she, Guinevere? Where is Bess?” Sam asked
softly.

“I would have thought you would have guessed, for I
made sure to announce Moncks Corner loud enough for those sailors
to overhear.”

“She was not there, nor has she ever been,” Sam
said.

“That is true, she is not there, but where does that
road lead you, Mr. Mason?”

Sam stared at her for a long moment, his eyes
narrowing into two slits, before closing as his face contorted in a
look of complete pain. “How did I not see this?”

He whispered to himself, but Guinevere replied,
“Because it was the last place you would ever consider.” Guinevere
leaned forward in her chair, resting a hand on the edge of the
desk. “The Holy Order is at your plantation.”

Bess

F
or two
whole days, I was kept in darkness, only allowed a hint of light
when Silence removed the cloth, so I could use the chamber pot and
eat. I had tried repeatedly to get some answers from Silence, but
he was as good as his name. He would not speak to me about what he
had said about fear, about what was happening outside the house
when I heard men shouting, or where Harvey was. I demanded several
times to see Harvey or Guinevere, but neither came. I had a feeling
that Guinevere did not want to try to help me again, and that was
why she stayed away—preserving her own neck.

Over the last few days in the darkness, I had
thought about my mother and the grief she would feel when she
discovered that her friend was not only behind capturing her
daughter, but also Richard’s appointment. Richard had murdered my
father, poisoning him when he discovered my father disguised as one
of the members of Levitas.

I also thought about Jack and how he must be going
out of his mind knowing that I had been captured again. Jack had
wanted me away from the Phantoms. He had thought he was offering me
a way in Andrew, and when all of that was ruined, Jack blamed
himself.

Jack was always blaming himself for the hurts that
happened to me, even though they were never his fault. Sure, his
misguided attachment to Guinevere had blinded him to her cruel
nature, but so had we all been blinded. I had been blinded to my
incompatibility with Andrew, because I was so focused on what I
wanted. I allowed the hurts from my past to keep me from opening my
heart to Sam, and when I did accept what I was feeling, I never
told him. That was my largest regret facing my sentence. That I
never told Sam that I love him.

He had expected me to leave him
when I had heard about his past, which showed me that he and I were
so much alike. We did not expect those we cared for to love us, and
when they did, we could not fathom why. But, secretly, we basked in
that love, allowing it to keep us fighting to protect not only the
good of our country, for it was good, but also to protect those who
loved us. We never wanted them to be ashamed of us or to regret
that they had placed their faith in us. If—when—I saw Sam again, I
was going to tell him, and if he did not return my love, then I
would wait for as long as it took.

On the day that my sentence was due to be carried
out, I heard Silence enter my prison chamber with my morning
meal.

“How long now, Silence?” I asked.
My head turned toward where I knew the door to be. I had tried to
speak to him every time he came, but he never replied.

The door closed, and something inside my chest
clenched. Silence always left the door open.

“Not long now,” said a voice that did not belong to
Silence.

Fear tightened my muscles until
they would not move, and
my heart was
trying to beat its way away out of my chest and away from the man
standing beside my bed. I wanted to say something, but my voice
would not work, it was locked up like the rest of me. A large hand
touched my leg, and my body unlocked with a spasm. I tried to pull
away from him, but I could not.

“Do not touch me!”

His large hand hit my mouth, covering it and shoving
the cloth against my nose and mouth. I threw my head side to side.
Another hand came down hard on my forehead, holding my head still
against the pillow beneath me. Breathing was almost impossible, and
I was beginning to panic. I tried to bite his hand, but I could not
get a hold through the cloth. My back and chest were the first to
begin shaking, and I could not stop the frantic movements as they
spread.

“Fear; I like that,” he said, near to my head. “I am
going to remove this bag, for I want you to see me when I do
this.”

Please, please, someone...

He pulled the cloth away. I screamed as loud as I
could, but it was only a second before his hand clamped over my
mouth again. He growled, and the smell of his breath, like death
and garlic, nearly made me cast up my accounts. I choked down the
rising bile. Tears were stinging my eyes, and he smiled when one
fell down the side of my face.

He knelt on the bed, and his free hand started
fumbling with his trousers. I looked away, a trail of tears falling
from my eyes. My body was shaking violently as I thrashed my legs,
and pulled on my arms, but the bonds were too tight. Flashes of
another time, of a different man, caused a pitiful moan to escape
me. It was happening again, and I knew I could not escape this
time.

He laughed at the sound that came
from me. My teeth were chattering, but I tried to bite him again,
moving my mouth around until I at last caught some of his fleshy
palm. I bit down as hard as I could, and tasted his blood in my
mouth. He yelped as I dug my teeth in. He struck my temple with his
fist. Releasing his palm, black flashes clouded my vision. His hand
left my mouth, and I screamed again. He hit my cheek, and my head
swung to the side before righting itself. His other hand clamped on
my mouth as his injured hand became frantic, pulling at my dress. I
thrashed, throwing my body and making the bed shake, but the posts
did not budge. I caught his flesh and bit him again. He cursed, but
did not release me as he pulled the skirt of my dress up. He knelt
on the bed, his legs on either side of mine, and I screamed through
his hand. I felt his rough hand on me, but I continued screaming
and trying to get away. The fear tearing through me was the
absolute worst kind. My chest was too tight; my mind shut down
thinking about anything but escaping. Yet, I knew there was no
escape. I was helpless. I was defeated. I knew what was about to
happen and there was no way to save myself.

As he knelt down, pressing his chest against mine
and holding my head so that I had to look at him, he said, “Not so
dangerous now, are ya? I’m gonna break ya, then I’m gonna watch as
ye hang.”

I felt the cool air of the room on
my legs, knowing this was it. My chest was convulsing in sobs, and
I could not see through the tears pouring from my eyes.

The door flew open, slamming against the wall.
Turning my head, I blinked several times until I could see.
Guinevere was standing there, her purple eyes wide and her face a
mask of wrath. It was like looking upon a stranger whom you knew by
one glance that they were dangerous.

“Get off her, you scum!” Guinevere demanded.

The guard released my mouth, straightening up then
climbing off me. A sob burst from me. My body was shaking so
violently that I thought I might faint from the pain.

“I knew ye were a traitor,” he sneered at
Guinevere.

“Indeed, and when did you discover that? Before or
after you tried to rape me?”

He spewed curses at her, but she was looking at me.
She smiled sadly, then threw herself at the guard. Unable to see
them through my tears, I leaned over and wiped my face on the
pillow then looked back, in time to see the guard strike Guinevere
a horrible blow to the face. She went down like a stone sinking in
a pond.

“Guinevere!” I screamed.

The guard looked at me, but he did not move toward
me, for General Harvey appeared in the doorway, his eyes quickly
taking in the scene before him.

Harvey moved faster than he should
have been able with his weak leg. He reached the guard, grabbed his
throat, and
threw
him across the room. The guard hit the wall as Harvey stared
down at Guinevere for a moment before moving to my side. His finger
brushed against the stream of my tears, and I threw myself to the
side, crying out. I did not want him to touch me, ever.

Harvey’s face contorted into a look of pure, full
rage. He turned, but the guard had made it to his feet and was
running out the door. Harvey ran after him, passing Silence who
appeared in the doorway.

One glance was all it had taken before Silence was
beside me. I yelled horrible words at him as his hand came toward
me. He pulled down my skirt, not touching my legs. He moved
swiftly, untying me from the bed. When the last rope was pulled
away from my skin, I rolled off the bed, dodged away from Silence’s
outstretched hand, and moved to Guinevere. Kneeling beside her, I
pushed the blonde hair of her wig away from her eyes.

Her mouth opened, and she whispered low so only I
could hear her. “Run.”

Rising, I moved around Silence as
he reached out for me, and ran out of the room. Harvey and that
guard had turned left, so I turned right and ran down the back
stairs two at a time. Throwing open the door at the bottom of the
stairs; there were servants in the small hall, but they did not try
to stop me. I knew how to get free from the house. Once outside, I
leapt from the porch, stumbled a few steps, but stayed on my feet.
My body was convulsing, but my feet kept moving, running, pushing
myself hard, to continue on.

The barn was the closest building, so I ran toward
it, knowing that my freedom was stabled within its walls. The door
was right before me, when I was tackled from behind.

Arms wrapped around me, rolling us
as we landed on the grass. My only thought was getting free.
Escaping. I went wild, throwing my elbows, hands, legs, kicking,
punching, and doing anything to get free. Scrambling to my feet, I
shot forward. A hand wrapped around my ankle, and I was pulled
back, tripping and landing on top of Silence. He released a grunt,
but his arms wrapped around me, holding me. I threw my elbow into
his stomach, threw my fist against his jaw, and raked my nails down
his face, but he did not fight back. He kept his hold on my waist.
Reaching for his eyes got him to fight back. He released my waist,
and I crawled away on my hands and knees. I rose to my feet, but he
shot up faster. He reached for me, but I eluded his grasp, my fists
up, I was ready for a fight.