Niles gave a begrudging nod. “It may have been.”
Bedford chuckled. “Well, wonders never cease,” he said. “Come on, Elsbeth’s in the dining room, taking breakfast.”
As they entered the dining room, Niles’s gaze immediately found Elsbeth. She was seated at the table, reading the Society pages, her hair catching the morning light in soft waves. When she looked up and saw him, her eyes brightened—just enough to make his heart ache with hope.
“Lord Westcott,” Lady Isabella said with a welcoming smile. “Please, join us.”
“I wouldn’t want to intrude?—”
“Nonsense,” she interrupted, gesturing to the empty seat beside Elsbeth. “Sit. You’re practically family already.”
Ignoring Bedford’s exaggerated groan, Niles took the offered seat. He turned to Elsbeth, smiling despite himself. “Dare I ask what has your attention this morning?”
She folded the newssheets and set it aside. “The Society pages. They’re dreadfully dull, but sometimes I read them to remind myself of London.”
“London is overrated,” Niles teased. “Too many people. Too many rules.”
“And yet, I miss it,” Elsbeth countered. “The balls, the music, the freedom to be someone else for an evening.”
“You could always return,” Niles suggested. “With the right company, London might feel like home again.”
Her eyes searched his, as though trying to decipher the deeper meaning in his words. But before she could respond,Bedford cleared his throat loudly, reminding them that they were not alone.
The butler stepped into the dining room and offered a small bow, his gaze fixed on Lady Isabella. “Mr. Stockton has returned home, my lady.”
“Wonderful,” Lady Isabella replied, rising from her seat. “If you’ll excuse me, I must speak with my husband.”
As Lady Isabella left the room, Elsbeth pushed back her chair and stood abruptly. “We should follow her and see what she intends to discuss with Alfred.”
“Now?” Niles asked.
“Yes, now,” Elsbeth insisted, her voice quiet but urgent. “Come on, hurry up.”
Niles sighed, rising to his feet. “Very well.” He turned to Bedford. “Would you care to join us?”
Bedford waved his hand dismissively. “You two go on without me. I do believe this is a waste of time.”
Niles offered his arm to Elsbeth and they moved silently through the corridors towards the rear of the manor. When they reached the open doorway of the study, Elsbeth pressed a finger to her lips, signaling for Niles to remain silent.
Inside the study, Lady Isabella’s voice carried clearly into the corridor. “She’s asking questions, Alfred,” she said, her tone edged with concern. “I tried to warn her.”
Alfred’s exasperated sigh followed. “We can’t have her asking questions.”
“Maybe we should just tell her the truth and be done with it?” Lady Isabella suggested, her voice tinged with desperation.
Alfred’s reply was sharp. “What is the truth? No. It’s better if we say nothing.”
“But keeping silent isn’t working,” Lady Isabella pressed. “She told me she snooped through your desk and found the newssheet clippings.”
A tense silence followed, broken by a faint, familiar voice. “She needs to know the danger she’s in.”
“She’s not ready,” Alfred said firmly, his tone brooking no argument.
“But Alfred,” her mother continued, “she is leaving with Charles at first light tomorrow. We can’t let her go.”
Elsbeth leaned closer to the doorway. But as she shifted her weight, the floorboard beneath her foot let out an audible creak that echoed down the corridor like a warning bell.
The voices inside the study stopped abruptly, and a moment later, Alfred appeared in the doorway. His expression was stern, his eyes narrowing as they landed on Elsbeth and Niles. “Eavesdropping, Elsbeth?” His tone was clipped and accusatory. “And Lord Westcott. What an unpleasant surprise.”
