Alfred, who had been silently observing the conversation, stepped closer to his wife. “What did Charles want?”
Niles’s expression grew serious. “He wasn’t pleased that I was offering for Elsbeth. He made his objections quite clear.”
Alfred’s expression grew solemn. “If what we believe is true, then by you marrying her, he would lose access to her dowry,” he said. “I never wanted to think Charles was capable of such things, but Mr. Strother’s suspicions have made me rethink everything.”
Niles’s brow lifted. “Does Mr. Strother have proof?”
“He has been working with us to gather evidence,” Alfredexplained. “Mr. Strother was a loyal ally to the late Lord Bedford and believes foul play was involved in his death.”
Lady Isabella interjected. “Where is Elsbeth?”
“She went to the stables to speak to Charles,” Niles informed her. “She was rather insistent on it.”
“You let her go…alone?!” Alfred demanded.
Niles put his hand up. “She assured me that Morton would keep her safe while she spoke to Charles.”
Alfred glanced at the window. “I do not think that is a good idea. She shouldn’t be alone around Charles.”
Before Niles could respond, a commotion erupted in the entry hall.
Lady Isabella turned her head sharply. “What on earth is going on now?” she asked.
“I’ll find out,” Niles said, excusing himself from the study.
When he reached the entry hall, Niles saw Lord Bedford directing the servants, his face a storm of frustration as they moved trunks towards the door.
“Good gads, you’re here again?” Bedford said dryly. “Don’t you have anywhere else to be?”
“I thought you were going riding,” Niles replied.
Bedford scowled. “Are you daft? I told you I was leaving this manor, and I intend to make good on that promise.”
Niles frowned. “Elsbeth went to the stables to find you. She thought you’d be riding to clear your head.”
Bedford’s expression shifted to disbelief. “Normally, I would. But today? After being accused of murder? I have no desire to linger where I’m not wanted,” he said. “I am surprised you even allow Elsbeth to be around me, considering you think so poorly of me.”
“It was Elsbeth’s decision, not mine,” Niles replied. “And I support her.”
Bedford huffed. “Mr. Strother told me that it would benearly impossible to prove that Alfred was behind my uncle’s murder. I just didn’t want to believe that.”
Niles pressed his lips together. “Mr. Strother told you that?”
“Didn’t I just say that?” Bedford asked. “I do believe you get stupider every time we speak.”
Niles’s jaw tightened, but before he could formulate a response or retort, the manor’s main door suddenly burst open with a resounding crash.
Morton, the white-haired groom, stumbled into the entry hall, his face pale and his wide eyes filled with panic. He clutched his cap in trembling hands as he scanned the room, his voice trembling as he cried out, “Lady Elsbeth! She’s been taken!”
The words hit Niles like a blow to the chest, his breath catching. “What?!” he demanded, striding towards Morton. “Taken? What do you mean?”
Morton swallowed hard, stepping closer as his hands fidgeted with the brim of his cap. “I was at the stables, brushing down one of the horses. I saw Lady Elsbeth walking down the garden path. I—I looked down for just a moment, and when I looked up, I saw a man grab her. He carried her to a waiting coach. I shouted, but by the time I got there, the coach was already gone.”
Bedford’s face paled, his frustration and anger from moments ago replaced by pure alarm. “Did you see the man? Do you know who it was?”
Morton nodded shakily. “He was short, with thinning hair and spectacles. I’ve seen him before… it was Mr. Strother.”
Niles’s hands clenched into fists, his mind racing. “Mr. Strother,” he said, his voice cold and steely. “Why would he?—”
