Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
“Ihear that they’re asking around the village if anyone has seen her. It won’t be long until they come here,” Saunders noted.
Saunders returned after ten days with the news that the convent was in a tizzy over Helena’s disappearance.
Silas could only conjecture that they had already informed her uncle, Lord James Porter. Which meant that whatever nightmare situation Helena had been imagining was getting closer to reality.
Unless they haven’t informed him in an effort not to look incompetent.
Silas did not want to indulge in wishful thinking, but he couldn’t help hoping that that was the case.
“No doubt. I need you to fetch Jeeves for me as well as Mrs. Owen.”
Saunders stepped out and spoke to the nearest footman before returning to the office. “May I continue with my ledgers now, sir?”
Silas’s lips twisted in amusement. “Of course. Thank you, Saunders. You did good work.”
Saunders half-smiled, a tentative enjoyment taking over his features. “Of course, Your Grace. It’s my pleasure to serve you,” he said before he left.
It wasn’t long before his butler and housekeeper appeared, both looking slightly apprehensive. Silas could not blame them; after all, he rarely called them to his office. Amelia was old enough to deal with most of the day-to-day operations of the household, and so he usually left her to it.
“Jeeves, Mrs. Owen, I have a very important request for you. No, consider it an order.”
Jeeves bowed and Mrs. Owen curtsied. “Of course, Your Grace.”
“I want you to go and tell all members of staff, right down to the chimney sweep, that they are not to say a word about Lady Helena’s presence in this house. Not to anyone. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” they said in unison.
He nodded. “Good. Do it now. And make sure it’s obeyed. Anyone who goes against the directive will be let go with prejudice.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” They both hurried out of the room and Silas was confident they would do exactly as he said.
“It might be too late. You know how people like to gossip. Any of the maids could already have said something to a villager who might tell the nuns,” Saunders chimed in.
“Even if they suspect something, there’s no way they can prove it.”
“And if they come here?”
“She is not a commodity to be tossed hither and thither,” Silas chided.
Saunders sighed, shaking his head. “Pardon me, Your Grace, but I feel a little sorry for her. She cannot have had an easy time with it. My cousin worked as a kitchen maid once in a convent. She said it was the coldest and most unwelcoming place she had ever been.”
Silas huffed. “Well unfortunately there’s nothing we can do about that. But we can protect her from them.”
Saunders nodded solemnly. “Yes, Your Grace.”
Silas realized the truth of his own words. He could protect Helena, and he was going to do just that, regardless of the outcome of her father’s case.
Because she was right; there was nowhere else for her to go.
What a farce… what a tragedy.
He shook his head slowly, feeling that Helena deserved much better than this.
Upon realizing that he needed help, Silas had sent a note to his friend Benedict. He was gratified when Benedict arrived at his estate the day after Saunders had returned.
Benedict was a fellow covert operative, and someone with whom Silas could share his concerns without worrying about breaking any protocols.
As soon as Benedict rode up the driveway and was announced, Amelia leapt to her feet, her face lighting up with excitement.
Helena glanced at Silas, her expression suddenly nervous.
“He is a friend,” Silas said simply before standing to follow his sister.
He heard the whisper of Helena’s footsteps behind him, her presence an echo in the hallway as they approached the entrance.
By the time they reached the front door, Benedict was spinning Amelia around in a tight embrace, her delighted squeals filling the room.
Silas’s brow furrowed. “Put her down, Richmont. She’s no longer a child.”
Benedict grinned, an easy, infectious smile that made Amelia giggle, and reluctantly let go.
“Such a spoilsport,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
Amelia nodded in agreement, pouting, and Silas huffed, pulling his sister away from Benedict’s playful grasp. She already looked at him like he was a knight coming to rescue her, and Silas wasn’t entirely sure he trusted his friend not to break her heart one day.
“Allow me to introduce you to my guest. This is Lady Helena Porter. Lady Helena, this is Benedict Linton, the Marquess of Richmont.”
Benedict’s gaze flickered over to Helena, and his charming smile deepened. He took her hand with a flourish, his lips hovering above it in a gesture that was almost theatrical.
“Such a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady,” he said with an air of gallant flirtation, his eyes glinting with playful admiration.
Helena’s cheeks flushed under his gaze, her voice a little shaky as she responded, “Th-thank you, Lord Richmont. I am pleased to meet you too.”
Benedict chuckled softly, taking a step back to admire her, his tone warm but with a hint of teasing. “You have the grace of a goddess, my lady. If I had known such beauty awaited me here, I would have made my visit sooner.”
Silas rolled his eyes.
Don’t you go throwing your kerchief at him too.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said earnestly, eyes sparkling as she basked in the compliment.
Amelia, not to be outdone, smiled brightly, hands clasped in front of her.
Benedict turned his attention back to her, his grin widening. “And you, Lady Amelia, are the very picture of youthful exuberance. I daresay the garden will bloom even brighter now that you’ve graced it with your presence.”
“Oh, thank you, my lord,” Amelia beamed, clearly pleased with the attention, though Silas felt a twinge of irritation.
His sister had a tendency to fall for these compliments too easily. Especially if they came from Benedict.
With a final, lingering glance at Helena, Benedict turned his attention to Silas. “And you, my old friend, are clearly blessed with excellent taste in company. I see no reason for you to sulk in the corner. You have plenty of good people here to enjoy!”
Silas rolled his eyes again, already fed up with the scene unfolding in front of him. He could only hope that his friend’s charm didn’t lead to trouble.
“Benedict, come with me,” he said firmly, putting a hand on his friend’s back to quickly steer him away.
Benedict gasped, placing a hand over his heart with mock offense.
“Ah! To be torn from such delightful company! You are truly cruel, Silas, denying me the pleasure of basking in these fair ladies’ smiles.
But very well, lead on, my stoic friend, and I shall follow…
though I shall mourn the loss of this radiance with every step! ”
Silas heard Amelia giggle loudly, while Helena half-smiled in amusement.
Silas’s jaw tightened, and he guided his friend towards the corridors. “Do us both a favor and hold your theatrics, Richmont.”
Once they reached his study, Silas closed and locked the door.
He turned to Benedict with a large exhalation of breath. “You really must stop making eyes at my sister. She does not understand that you’re not serious.”
“I was not making eyes at her! I was simply happy to see her. Lady Amelia is a delight.”
“Yes, a delight who makes moon eyes at you. You should know better than to encourage her.”
“All right, all right! My sincerest apologies, then. I promise to be more circumspect in the future. But let us turn our attention to the matter at hand. Lady Helena…you did not mention how lovely she was.”
“Yes, because that is not the point of this meeting. She is a possible witness to the murder of one of the crown’s agents. But something is preventing her from speaking freely.”
Benedict made himself comfortable on the sofa. “Pour me a glass of brandy, and then tell me everything.”
Silas did as he was asked, apprising Benedict of the entire tale right up to the possibility of St. Margaret’s nuns showing up at any minute.
Benedict nodded solemnly at the end of his tale.
“I see why you must keep her hidden. If what you conjecture is correct, she went through quite a lot at this abbey. I have expressed my desire to communicate our investigations to His Majesty, but our royal contact has insisted we remain as discreet as possible about our discoveries. For now, at least.”
“So what should I do?”
“Well, first things first, you must find out everything you can about this James Porter. Surely there must already be some record of him, considering he’s the brother of a gentleman employed by the Crown.”
“There is, but it doesn’t say much. He was thought to be insignificant. Just another drunken sot who happened to be related to a spy. But if he is more than that… a betrayer, a murderer or a treasonous scapegrace… We need to find out.”
“I agree with that assessment, and only venture to add that the Dowager Countess of Downfield must also be investigated. She was at the very least aware of the conspiracy to kill the Earl. Or perhaps she even conceived it.”
Silas nodded. “I am inclined to agree with that.”
Benedict lifted his glass in a toast before draining it. Silas was quick to refill it.
Benedict lifted his glass in a toast before draining it. Silas was quick to refill it.
“I have my hands full with the lady,” Silas began, his tone measured, “and the nuns demand attention as well. I need you to look into the Porter family. Everything you can find. Trace their connections, verify Lady Helena’s story. Until then, trust no one, and turn your back on no one.”
“Very well,” Benedict said, inclining his head. “I shall see what I can uncover.”
“And remember,” Silas added, voice tightening slightly, “this is about more than idle curiosity. Every detail matters.”
Benedict chuckled, giving him a sidelong glance. “Vigilance has always been your strong suit, old friend.”