He looked again, the frown now deeply set in his features, deep in thought. When it softened again, he said, “So you would never tell anyone about why you were placed there.”
It wasn’t a question, more like an observation.
“You are also perceptive, then,” she remarked.
“Handsome and perceptive? I must indeed be lucky, receiving two compliments from you within such a short span,” he said, and it reminded her of his softer demeanor only a few hours ago.
“I did not compliment you the first time,” she insisted, for she didn’t need to boost this man’s arrogance, as she was certain he had plenty of it already.
“So you admit this time was indeed a compliment?” he smirked.
Helena groaned. “Think whatever you please, I do not care.”
His smirk widened for a mere second before his expression settled into cool seriousness. “You have endured more than you deserved,” he said, tone smooth as steel. “But with me, you are safe. My intentions are only in your favor.”
“Words are so easy to say,” she said ruefully. “When my mother tossed me into the convent, she told me it was for my own good.”
He pursed his lips for a moment, and a deep disdain filled his eyes.
“I am not your mother, and I have no ulterior motives towards you,” he said after a pause. “Do you not want to see your father receive justice?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“If he was murdered, do you not want to see his killers to be held accountable?”
She looked him up and down, “The question is why doyouwant to see his killers brought to justice?”
They came to a stop at a large gate emblazoned with a crest she didn’t recognize. The guard lost no time in letting them in, giving Silas a bow as they passed.
He is a lord indeed, then, she thought.
They clip-clopped down a stone-paved driveway and came to a stop in front of a large stone manor.
Helena looked up at it. The building was just as imposing as the abbey, though it did not radiate the same sense of evil.
The front door flew open and a young lady came running out. “Brother! You are back at last. Where did you go? Nobody even had a clue when you even left.”
The girl, Silas’s sister, apparently, looked around the age of fifteen.
“Amelia. Go back to your—” Silas began, but the girl cut him off as she came up to them.
“And who is this?” she asked before her face broke out in a smile. “Good evening! My name is Amelia. What’s yours?”
“I—I…” Helena flicked a glance between Silas and his sister, not sure what she should say.
“Amelia, go back to your chambers.” Silas ordered.
Amelia planted her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowing at her brother. “Truly, Silas, you vanish without a word, return at your leisure, and now expect me to simply curtsy and retreat without question? That ismostunfair.”
Silas exhaled sharply. “Amelia, this is not a matter for you to concern yourself with.”
Her gaze shifted eagerly to Helena. “Is she a traveler stranded on the road?” she asked in a hushed, conspiratorial tone. “Or perhaps she has fled from an odious betrothal?Oh!Did you rescue her, Silas? How very heroic of you!”
Helena blinked at the rapid flurry of questions. “I?—”
“Amelia.” Silas’s voice carried an unmistakable warning.
His sister pursed her lips, entirely undeterred. “Well, youhavebrought home a woman, and I should like to know why. It is only polite to make proper introductions, is it not?” She turned to Helena with a bright smile. “I do hope you will not allow my brother to frighten you away, miss. He does so enjoy scowling.”
