“Why would they try to run? Are they not happy here?” His voice was smooth, almost conversational, each word carefully measured, a subtle hook baited into the air. “Considering you have generously provided them with food and shelter.” He leaned in slightly, eyes never leaving hers, letting the silence press against her, coaxing, testing, guiding her into giving more than she intended.
The nun scoffed, her mouth twisting in derision. “Happy?” she shook her head. “Most of the girls are too willful for happiness. Heaven knows we try our best to instill in them the gratitude and goodness of God. Unfortunately, for most of them, the devil has his claws embedded deep.”
Silas raised a surprised eyebrow. “I see. It must be quite disconcerting.”
“Indeed, Your Grace,” she nodded graciously, clearly believing that they were in total agreement.
Even though he’d managed to lower her wariness about him, Silas felt deeply perplexed.
What had he walked in on?
The Crown needs to be alerted about this.
They came up to a large oak door which the nun pushed open. “If you wait here, Sister Frances will be with you shortly.”
He peered inside, and realized that it was some kind of office.
He nodded. “This will do nicely. Thank you, Sister.” He said stepping in.
“May I bring you some tea or coffee?”
He smiled, and raised his pitch ever so slightly to make himself seem harmless, “Yes, I am quite parched. Perhaps you would be so kind as to include some biscuits as well? I find myself a bit peckish after a long journey.”
She bowed her head. “Of course, Your Grace. You may have a seat and wait. I shall be back as soon as possible.”
“Thank you,” Silas said and made a show of settling in the uncomfortable wooden seat.
He waited until she had left to stand up again and headed first for the desk. He paused, trying to gauge where the abbey might be keeping records.
When he pulled at the first drawer, it did not budge; locked. All the other drawers were locked, too.
He sighed in frustration.
He couldn’t waste time. Even if he did manage to get a hold of Sister Frances, he doubted that the nun would give up any information about Helena Porter.
Silas needed to find the woman. Today.
And so, he headed to the door and cautiously pulled it open.
Fortunately, the corridor was empty. He knew he had to be careful, lest someone see him, and so he walked as if he had every right to be there.
He peered into the rooms he passed, hoping to find one of the fabled girls that had the devil in them.
He had spanned the entire length of the abbey before he happened upon a young woman, cleaning the stairs.
“I say there,” he called and she looked up in surprise. “I am in search of one of the residents here. Her name is Helena Porter. Do you know her? It is about a most urgent family matter.”
“Helena?” the woman said, her eyebrows almost reaching her hairline as she straightened up. “Yes, I know Helena.”
“Where might I find her?”
The woman shrugged. “She could be anywhere, sir. Not one to stay where she’s put, if you take my meaning.”
Silas hummed in acknowledgement, looking around in frustration. “Where might I start looking?”
“Well…” the woman bit her lip. “I suppose you might try the stables. She does love those horses.”
“Thank you.” He nodded to her.
