Two men emerged, one battered, gouged, and butchered, with an X slicing his salmon-pink lips and blood dripping from his mangled mouth. The other was dragging the battered man. Leena gasped silently when she saw that the unharmed man wore the uniform of a high-ranking King’s soldier.
“Aye, these confessors never learn, do they, Mr. St. Silas? Thought he could run,” the soldier said, a chuckle in his voice. “He won’t make the same mistake next time.”
“My deepest gratitude,” the Saint murmured. “If you can so kindly deposit him away from the shop, I’ll have Arthur bring you a token of my appreciation in the morning.”
The soldier laughed again over the battered man’s moans. “Always generous, sir.”
Leena remained still even after the soldier had pulled the man out the front door, leaving blood splatters on the hardwood.
After they left, a deep silence hovered over them. Leena’s voice finally came thready in the dark. “If you hold power over the men of the law, then—” Her mouth dried.
Mr. St. Silas’s expression didn’t change. She knew that he had informants within the constabulary, the judges, and even the House of Commons, but the mere fact that some of the most powerful men in Golborne wereansweringto him in the middle of the night seemed beneath his notice.
“Where were you going?” His tone remained pleasant.
Leena descended the last steps slowly. Several scenarios played out in her mind. She could tell him the truth, but she was desperate to try to keep Rami’s name out of her plans as much as she could.
She decided to tread the line between the truth and a lie. “I won’t be gone long, sir. A mere hour or two, certainly back in time for tomorrow’s appointments.”
As she’d expected, his brows rose.
She pretended to look down, lashes covering her eyes in an expression she hoped looked bashful, even if her shaking hands remained tightly folded behind her. The house still swallowed theechoes of the man’s screams, and she was half worried he had died along the way and stood somewhere waiting for her. She longed to reach for the copper coins nestled in her pocket.
Mr. St. Silas didn’t prompt her, merely waited.
“There is a…a special friend of mine who lives near this district. I do not often get a chance to see him, although he made an effort to visit when I lived back home. Unfortunately, we haven’t seen each other since my…employment with you began.” She kept her gaze pinned steadily on the banister, her cheeks burning, a trace of defiance in her voice. She knew her eyes would reveal her—and her painful lack of experience inthatregard.
A moment’s stilted pause.
“Look at me.” The command was a knife’s edge, lingering on the borders of something cutting.
She didn’t obey.
She heard his swift step, followed by a firm hand under her chin. He tilted her gaze up. The glint in his eyes was unmistakable, as was the not-smile touching his lips. “If you ever lie to me again, Leena, I will personally see to it that your tongue will remember the value of truth.”
Her spine stiffened.
She pushed his hand aside in a hard swipe before she could curtail herself.
“I did not give you leave to call me by my given name,” she seethed. “And how are you so certain that I am lying, sir?”
“All right,Miss Al-Sayer.” His tone didn’t change. “It is late for games, but I’ll play. Nothing is more apparent than the fact that you obviously live a hermetic and isolated life. I am left in no doubt that yourspecial friendis none other than your tedious brother. Which is”—he waved a dismissive hand—“quite sad, even for you.”
He was right.
Leena’s former school friends were all engaged—most were even now happily married—but her own life had stalled instantaneously when ghosts began to seek her out. For how could she find anyromance when women with gouged eyes or men with slit necks trailed her day and night? Once or twice, the neighborhood boys had tried to court her, and it had ended in nothing short of disaster.
Still, she had never supposed that her lack of any romantic experience was so evident.
Mr. St. Silas did not give her a moment to regain her bearings before continuing. “You may visit your…er…special friendin a fortnight’s time, in themorning,when there is less chance your throat will be slit a hundred different ways just for venturing out. With Lord Avon yet to be found, I cannot yet risk your inconvenient demise.” The dismissal as he turned to go was accompanied by a prolonged bow, a deliberate play at formality. “I will expect you back by noon on that day. I bid you goodnight, Miss Al-Sayer.”
Leena did as she was told, taking the steps back into her chamber with growing desperation.
Hispermissiontasted like ashes in her mouth.
—
A knock sounded on the door of the confession room.
