Hunting for Silence (Storm and Silence 5)

I just winked and started up the stairs. Upstairs, Edmund had already packed a bunch of Ella’s things into a suitcase, valiantly ignoring the weak protests coming from the bed.

‘Lil! There you are! Will you tell that thick-headed fiancé of mine to stop packing?’

‘No.’ I patted Ella on the shoulder. ‘My head is pretty thick too, you know.’

‘But we can’t possibly be going anywhere! We don’t have the money.’

‘Just trust me.’ For one moment, I held her shadowed eyes. Long enough to show her I was serious. Long enough for me to see how serious her condition was. How had her face gotten this pale? ‘I’m going to take care of everything.’

With a little help.

A year ago, that thought would have made me angry, would have made me want to do it all on my own. Today, it just made me feel warm inside.

‘But…but…’

‘Please.’ Edmund stepped up beside me and took my little sister’s hand. ‘Let her help. Please.’

‘Well…I…’ She hesitated—then nodded. ‘All right.’

Breathing a sigh of relief, Edmund squeezed her hand and stepped back. ‘Thank you.’ He glanced at me, his eyes hard. ‘You’d better be able to keep all your fine promises. If not…’

‘Edmund!’ Ella exclaimed.

I grinned. ‘I like you,’ I informed the young piano tuner, and, turning to Ella, added, ‘You can keep him.’

She gave me a terrifyingly weak smile. ‘Thank you very much.’

‘You’re welcome. Come on, Romeo.’ Grabbing a packed suitcase, I pushed open the door. ‘Let’s load up.’

Edmund grabbed a suitcase, too—then turned back, and squeezed Ella’s hand one last time. ‘We’ll take care of you. Just rest. I’ll be back to fetch you in just a moment.’

‘Oh no you won’t! You and your spindly arms are not carrying my little sister down those rickety old stairs.’

He frowned. ‘Do you have a man better suited for the job?’

A grin spread over my face. ‘As a matter of fact, I do. Wait for me in the hall, will you?’

Striding outside, I looke

d around until I spotted a hulking figure next to the second coach, just lifting a huge suitcase onto the roof.

‘Ah, Karim, my little bundle of joy.’ Beaming, I stepped towards him. ‘I have a special task for you.’

A Lady Taking Charge

‘This is very kind of you, Mr…Karim, was it?’

‘Hrmph.’

‘What an interesting name. And an interesting hat. I’ve never met a coachman with a turban before.’

‘Hm.’

‘Or with that kind of accent. Where did you say you were from, again?’

‘Hrm.’

‘But, really, this isn’t necessary. I’m quite sure if someone supported me I could walk down the stairs on my own two feet quite easily. Just—’