After a moment of silence, Niles asked, “What are you going to do about your cousin?”
Elsbeth tilted her head to meet his gaze, her eyes searching his for answers. “What do you think I should do?”
A small, knowing smile curved his lips, one that seemed to hold all the answers she didn’t yet have. “I think you should marry me and we can ride off into the sunset. Just you and me.”
For a fleeting moment, the idea was as tempting as it was improbable. But the memory of Charles—his dejected expression, the raw hurt in his eyes—came rushing back. His reaction to their accusations had seemed painfully genuine. “I’m not opposed to continuing this conversation,” she said carefully, “but I need to speak to Charles first.”
“That’s the last thing you should be doing,” he replied, a note of warning in his voice.
Elsbeth took a steadying breath. “In my heart, I don’t believe Charles murdered my father,” she said. She had no evidence to offer, only an instinct that refused to be silenced.
Niles studied her for a long moment, then sighed. “Then go,” he encouraged, though he made no move to release her.
She laughed. “You’ll need to let me go first.”
His grip tightened ever so slightly. “I’ve waited a long time to hold you like this, Elsbeth. I’m not quite ready to let go.”
A blush crept up her cheeks, and she leaned into him a little more. “Perhaps,” she whispered, “we can stay like this for just a moment longer.”
And so they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, as the world beyond the gardens seemed to fade away. After a longmoment, Elsbeth reluctantly took a step back. “I should go speak to my cousin.”
“Very well,” he replied. “May I walk you back inside?”
“That won’t be necessary. I suspect Charles will be heading out to the stables. He tends to prefer riding when he’s upset. It’s his way of clearing his mind.”
“Then I shall walk you to the stables,” Niles said, his determination unwavering.
Elsbeth couldn’t suppress a grin. “I think speaking with Charles will go much easier if you’re not around. I don’t think my cousin particularly cares for you.”
Niles feigned shock, his hand flying to his chest in mock indignation. “What?! Impossible. I thought we were the best of friends.”
A light laugh escaped her lips. “I shall see you soon,” she responded before heading towards the stables.
“Be sure not to be left alone with Charles,” Niles called out after her.
She spun back around. “Morton won’t let anything happen to me,” she replied, hoping to ease his worries. “And don’t you think about following me. I can handle this on my own.”
“Very well, but if you are not back shortly, I will come for you,” he said. His words brooked no argument.
“I can agree to that.”
As Elsbeth resumed walking down the gravel path, her lips hummed a faint melody, a habit she hadn’t indulged in since childhood. It surprised her how content she felt. Perhaps a marriage to Niles wouldn’t be so terrible after all. No, he might not love her, but in time, maybe he could come to care for her as deeply as she cared for him.
The sound of booted footsteps came behind her, but something struck her from behind before she could turn around. And everything went black.
Niles lingered in the gardens long after Elsbeth disappeared from view. A smile lingered on his lips. His proposal to Elsbeth had been interrupted, but he felt encouraged, considering she hadn’t pulled away when he’d embraced her.
For the first time in years, he felt whole, as if her touch had mended the scars etched on his heart. She had brought light back into his life, and he was ready to fight for her, no matter the odds.
As he entered the manor, passing by the study, Lady Isabella’s voice called out to him. “Lord Westcott,” she began, a hopeful lilt in her tone. “Are congratulations in order?”
He stopped and turned towards the open door. “I’m afraid not,” he replied, stepping inside. “My offer was interrupted by Lord Bedford.”
Lady Isabella’s face fell slightly, but her determination didn’t waver. “But you do intend to marry my daughter?”
“I do,” Niles said firmly. “Make no mistake about that.”
A bright smile broke across her face. “Wonderful,” she declared, her voice brimming with approval.
