Silas grabbed the butler, looking him in the eye. “What’s happened? Where’s my wife? Where’s Amelia?”
Not waiting for an answer, he pushed past Jeeves and hurried into the house. “Helena?” he called.
“She’s not here, Your Grace,” Jeeves said, his voice shaking.
Silas pursed his lips and closed his eyes. He did not want to ask but he needed to know. “Where is she?”
“Your Grace, they took them. The DuchessandLady Amelia.” Jeeves sounded devastated, “They killed…” His voice broke.
Silas whirled around. “Whodid they kill?”
“Jamieson, Peters and Ames,” he said in a broken voice. “Patricia was injured when she tried to…” He gave a sob.
Silas tried to still the trembling in his hands. “Anyone else?”
“One of the grooms, I’m told, was hit on the head. He’s quite insensible, and bled from his wound. I sent for the physician, but he says there’s little he can do for him.”
“How many were they?”
Jeeves took a deep shaky breath. “I cannot say, Your Grace. There were at least five men that I saw. Th-they locked us in the pantry—together with the kitchen staff. The governess locked herself in the privy.” He shook his head. “It was chaos.”
Benedict stepped into the house and Silas met his eye. “We’ll get them back,” he said.
Silas nodded. “This is Porter’s work,” he said.
“No doubt.” Benedict agreed. “How do we find them? Do you think he would have taken them to Downfield?”
“We asked around in the village as to which direction they went,” Jeeves spoke up.
Both of them looked at him. “And?” they said simultaneously.
Jeeves took a breath. “All we were able to glean was that they went north, and both ladies were alive when they left.”
“North…” Benedict said thoughtfully. “That could mean the abbey.”
“Or Downfield,” Silas added with a huge sigh.
“We have people stationed in both those places. It’s a matter of finding out which. Meanwhile, we can get on their trail at once. If the village saw them, likely other people along the way saw them too.”
Silas gave him a look. “You would come with me?” he asked.
“Of course I would.”
Silas nodded. “Thank you.”
Helena woke up to find that she was tied to a pole in a dark, dank room. Someone had knocked her out in the carriage and here she was without a clue as to where she was.
She was once again grateful for the protection of her gown. The cold would have been much less bearable while wearing a flimsy cotton nightgown.
Her muscles ached, and her stomach rumbled with hunger. She tried to look around in an attempt to find out where she was or to find something familiar in the room with her that she could use to get away.
“Amelia,” she called hopefully.
There was no answer. Her voice echoed in the room.
She wasn’t there.
Poor Amelia, she thought, her heart hammering in her chest.
