Elsbeth’s face drained of color. “By whom?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to uncover,” Mr. Glasker admitted. “Your stepfather brought me in to investigate quietly,to avoid drawing attention. What I can say is that someone went to great lengths to cover up the truth.”
“Why would someone want my father dead?” Elsbeth whispered, her voice breaking.
Lady Isabella winced. “Because your father was not the man you believed him to be, my dear.”
“What do you mean?” Elsbeth asked.
Alfred sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Your father had enemies, Elsbeth. Dangerous ones. And it seems one of them may have decided to take matters into their own hands.”
The Bow Street Runner’s expression was solemn as he added, “And we suspect that person was your cousin, Lord Bedford.”
19
Elsbeth felt the air leave her chest as she considered Alfred’s words. Charles? Could her own cousin truly be responsible for her father’s death? It seemed impossible.
Alfred took a step closer, drawing her attention. “Think about it, Elsbeth. Your cousin had the most to gain from your father’s death. He inherited the title and what remained of the estate.”
“But the estate was practically bankrupt,” Elsbeth countered, though her voice wavered. “My father left him nothing but debts.”
“That’s true,” Alfred conceded. “But your father was a notorious gambler. Had he lived, he would have squandered every last piece of his estate. By dying when he did, your cousin retained the land and entailed properties. He can rebuild his fortune. It may take some time, but it is entirely possible.”
Elsbeth turned to her mother. “Do you truly believe Charles is capable of murder?”
Her mother’s face darkened with an expression Elsbeth rarely saw: doubt mixed with pain. “At first, no. But the moreI’ve thought about it… it makes sense. This is why you mustn’t leave with him. We don’t know what he is capable of.”
“Yet you wanted me to marry him?” Elsbeth demanded.
“That was before certain things came to light,” her mother replied.
“No,” Elsbeth said, jumping up from her seat. “I don’t believe it. I don’t want to believe it.”
Rising, Niles’s eyes held compassion as he said, “Elsbeth, if Charles did harm your father, it would explain why he might want to harm you. You’ve been asking too many questions.”
Lady Isabella’s hand flew to her mouth. “He hasn’t tried to hurt you, has he?” she asked, her voice cracking with fear.
Elsbeth hesitated, unsure how much she should reveal. Before she could answer, Niles spoke up. “Bedford did almost shoot Elsbeth and possibly poisoned her with a lozenge.”
“You aren’t helping,” Elsbeth muttered.
Her mother’s expression grew resolute. “I can’t in good conscience allow you to go with Charles to his estate.”
Alfred nodded in agreement. “Your mother’s right. If something happens to you, your dowry reverts to the estate. It would go straight into Charles’s hands.”
Elsbeth’s resolve faltered, her body sinking back onto the settee as the weight of everything pressed down on her. “Charles wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t…”
But even as she spoke, doubt crept in, unsettling her more than she wanted to admit. “What am I supposed to do?” she murmured, her voice barely audible.
Niles sat beside her, his presence steadying. “I have an idea.”
She turned to him, hope flickering faintly in her chest. “What is it?”
“Marry me,” he said firmly, his eyes locking with hers. “I can take you far away from all of this. I’ll keep you safe.”
Her brows knitted together. “You cannot be serious.”
“I’ve never been more serious,” Niles insisted, reaching for her hand. “This isn’t how I planned to offer for you, but it’s the best solution. Don’t you see?”
