Her mother’s lips pursed. “That is a dangerous path, Elsbeth. You are not betrothed, and allowing such correspondence could ruin what remains of your reputation.”
“I no longer care about my reputation,” Elsbeth stated. “It is already in tatters. What harm could come of it?”
“Much harm,” her mother countered. “Lord Westcott may mean well, but the world will not look kindly upon such behavior, especially from the daughter of an earl.”
Elsbeth felt the stirrings of anger rise within her, though she pushed it down. “I cannot deny him. He is the only one who has stood by me through all of this.”
“Because he cares for you,” her mother said. “And I think you care for him as well.”
The words struck a chord deep within Elsbeth, and she felt tears prick at her eyes once more. “I don’t know what I feel. I only know that leaving is the right thing to do.”
Her mother studied her for a long moment, then reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “You are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for, Elsbeth. But strengthdoes not mean running away from what scares you. Sometimes, it means staying and facing it.”
Elsbeth bit her lip, her resolve wavering. “Perhaps,” she whispered. “But I don’t know if I’m brave enough for that.”
Her mother’s smile was warm. “You are brave enough for anything. You always have been.”
Elsbeth was touched by her mother’s words and thought it might be a good time to ask her a few more questions. This was the moment to press forward. “What do you know of Father’s death?”
Her mother’s smile vanished, replaced by a guarded look. “Why do you ask?”
“I have been thinking about it lately, and I wonder if it was truly an accident,” Elsbeth replied, studying her mother closely.
Her mother abruptly rose. “Why would you ask such a thing? Itwasan accident,” she snapped as she moved towards the door. “Nothing more. Now, let us go down for breakfast.”
But Elsbeth wasn’t willing to let the conversation end. She leaned forward, her hands gripping the edge of the bed. “If that’s the case, then why is Alfred asking questions about Father’s death?”
Her mother froze, her back stiffening. Slowly, she turned, her face paler than Elsbeth had ever seen it. “Why would you think that?” she asked, her voice strained.
This was her chance. Elsbeth took a deep breath, deciding to risk the truth. “Because I found newssheet clippings in his desk. Articles about Father’s death.”
Her mother’s expression hardened, her lips thinning. “You broke into his desk?”
“Yes,” Elsbeth admitted. “I knew Alfred was hiding something, and I needed to find out what it was.”
“You shouldn’t have done such a thing. You’ve no idea what you’ve meddled in,” she chided.
“I had no choice,” Elsbeth countered. “He’s keeping secrets, and I need to know what they are. What else is Alfred hiding?”
“You don’t understand,” her mother said sharply. “You’re chasing shadows, things that don’t concern you.”
“Then make me understand,” Elsbeth demanded, rising to her feet. “Stop treating me like a child and tell me the truth.”
Her mother’s composure cracked, a flicker of panic crossing her face. “Youarea child in this,” she said, her voice trembling. “And we’ve been trying to protect you. You don’t know the dangers of the answers you’re seeking.”
“I can handle the truth, whatever it is,” she asserted.
Her mother placed a hand on the door handle. She didn’t meet Elsbeth’s gaze, her voice quiet but heavy with warning. “Stop asking questions, Elsbeth. It will not end well for you.”
The ominous words sent a chill down Elsbeth’s spine, but she couldn’t relent now. “What do you mean by that? What won’t end well?”
Her mother’s hand tightened on the handle, her knuckles white. “Please, for once, do as you’re told. Leave this alone. I cannot risk losing you.”
Her voice cracked on the last word, and for a moment, Elsbeth saw the fear etched in her mother’s features. “What will happen to me, Mother? What are you so afraid of?”
Her mother didn’t respond. Instead, she opened the door and left, the sound of the door closing behind her echoing like a final warning. Elsbeth stood there, her mind racing with unanswered questions and a growing sense of dread. Something was very, very wrong, and she wouldn’t rest until she uncovered the truth.
Niles hadn’t slept a wink. The restless energycoursing through him refused to let his mind settle, and by the time the morning light streamed through his windows, he’d made a decision. He loved Elsbeth. There was no point denying it anymore, not to himself, not to anyone. He had to act.
