“Silas!”
He ran to her, dropping to his knees to envelop her in an embrace. “Are you all right?” he whispered against her ear.
She nodded.
Immediately, he reached for her bonds, cutting them with his knife before helping her to her feet.
“Helena!” she said at once.
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know. Close. I think I heard her screaming earlier. Please, we need to save her!” Amelia said urgently.
“She’s close?” Silas looked towards the door.
“Yes,” Amelia whispered.
Just then, there was a pistol shot and then a scream.
In his arms, Amelia tensed. He pushed her towards Benedict and ran out of the door.
“Helena!” he called.
The sound of the pistol had come from somewhere at the end of the hall. He went door to door, trying handles until he reached the last one at the end.
Pulling it open, he eased into the room, his own pistol in hand.
“Why did you have to get in the way?” a teary male voice said, and he squinted trying to see well in the darkened room.
There was a woman’s body on the ground. He tensed, his heart dropping with fear. Then, he noticed the body had blonde hair.
It was Lady Downfield.
And there was someone tied to a pole, just behind the prone body.
Helena.
James Porter was leaning over the body, rocking slightly and keening. “Why? Why? Why? Why did you do that?” he cried.
Silas lifted the arm holding the pistol and slammed it against James Porter’s head. The man slumped forward, his head lolling on the body’s belly, before slumping to the floor.
“Silas!”
His shoulders sagged with relief when he heard her voice. Dropping to his knees, he stared at Helena before putting a hand to her cheek.
“Helena. You’re all right,” he whispered.
“Untie me! Quickly,” she said.
He hastened to do as she said. As soon as she was free she dove forward, reaching for Lady Downfield.
“Mother!” Helena shouted in anguish, cupping her mother’s face in her hand. “Mother please, don’t die.”
Silas could hear the Dowager Countess choking. He leaned forward to examine her. The gunshot wound in her stomach was bleeding steadily, her face and her limbs were waxy and pale.
By the choking breaths she was taking, he knew she didn’t have long.
His eyes slid to James Porter, who still held a pistol in hand, and he realized why the man had been keening.
