phantom knights 01 - phantoms in philadelphia by vantana amalie

Author:vantana, amalie [vantana, amalie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: TVAAW
Published: 2013-12-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Jack

While escorting Guinevere home from Ephraim’s party, she asked if I would ride out with her at seven in the morning. My agreement came immediately, for any time spent with her was fortunate, but when she asked to meet at a country church instead of at her house, I was intrigued.

Seated upon my brown mount in the church yard, I took out my pocket watch for the fifth time. Guinevere was ten minutes late. There could be any logical explanation, but anxiety grew within me for I knew that she liked to ride without her groom.

The sound of a fast horse approaching from around the bend in the road made me sit straighter in the saddle. When she appeared, a sigh tumbled out from deep within me.

As she halted near me, my heart stuttered. The pink in her cheeks from the cold morning air, her blue riding dress that made her eyes appear more blue than purple, and the smile on her lips made me wish that I could paint. I would keep her image with me always, to remind myself when in the darkest of places that I knew what light and life looked like.

“Are you prepared for a gallop across the countryside?” she asked with a smile that tilted up one side of her lips. She knew, as everyone in society did, that John Martin was not at his best upon a horse.

“I shall try my poor best,” I replied.

She took the lead while I kept a distance between us. The wind blew wisps of her auburn hair from the coil secured against her head, and her blue bonnet was a little askew.

Love had never been a word that I said unless in poetry or to my sister. The truth was that other than my mother and sister; there had never been anyone that I loved. I respected my father, but it would have been a falsehood to say that I loved him as I did my sister. He never gave us much thought other than what we could do to further his causes. He did not inspire or encourage deeper emotions, especially love. Not that what I was feeling for Guinevere was love...

She was waiting for me, and my thoughts turned back to the moment. Stopping beside her, I gave my best look of a man exhausted from the ride. Guinevere rode a circle around me with a victorious smile lighting her face.

“You ride better than I expected,” she said.

My hands gripped the reins of my horse as I acted as if I was gasping for breath. “A surprise,” I gulped some air, “even to myself.”

She laughed as she looked up at the trees. The leaves were dancing with the wind. She closed her eyes as the wind caressed her face. “I do love early morning gallops. They strengthen the senses and are the beginning to a perfect day.”

Plain Jack Martin would agree with her, but Poet John Martin wisely kept his mouth shut.

She looked at

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