“It doesn’t matter why,” Bedford interrupted. “What matters is that Elsbeth is gone, and we need to act now.”
“We need to notify the constable at once,” Niles said, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside him.
Morton shook his head. “With all due respect, my lord, you must go after her now. By the time the constable arrives, it might be too late. The coach took the road leading out of the village.”
Lady Isabella appeared in the corridor, her eyes darting between Morton and Bedford. “What is all this shouting about?”
Bedford turned to his aunt, his voice grim. “Mr. Strother has abducted Elsbeth.”
Lady Isabella staggered back and Alfred appeared by her side, steadying her. “Please say it isn’t true,” she said, her voice trembling.
“I saw it myself, my lady,” Morton confirmed.
Alfred’s expression turned steely, a dangerous edge in his voice. “I’m going after her,” he stated.
“I’m going, too,” Niles said without hesitation.
“As am I,” Bedford added.
Alfred nodded curtly. “We leave at once.”
Morton spun on his heel. “I’ll have the horses saddled immediately.”
Alfred gestured towards the study. “Follow me. I have pistols for all of us. We’ll make sure that Mr. Strother regrets ever laying a hand on Elsbeth.”
The men exchanged resolute nods before heading towards the study, ready to do whatever it took to bring her home.
As they entered the study, Alfred strode purposefully to his desk. He unlocked a drawer and withdrew three pistols. “Here,” he said, holding them out. “Be careful. These pistols are loaded.”
Niles accepted a pistol, his gaze flicking to Alfred. “You keep loaded pistols in your desk?”
“I am a merchant, my lord,” Alfred replied matter-of-factly. “One never knows when a disgruntled individual might decide to settle a score. And I would do anything to protect my family.”
Bedford, standing slightly apart, examined the pistol before tucking it securely into the waistband of his trousers. “Enough talk. Let’s get moving.”
“Before we go,” Alfred began, “I need to know that I can trust you both.”
Bedford let out a dry chuckle. “Says the man who just handed me a loaded weapon.”
Alfred’s eyes locked onto Bedford’s, his expression dark. “Mark my words: if you do anything to hurt Elsbeth, I will kill you myself.”
Bedford’s eyes narrowed. “The feeling is mutual,” he growled.
The room grew heavy with tension as the two men glared at one another, their animosity tangible. Finally, Alfred seemed to deem Bedford’s response sufficient and turned back to the matter at hand. “We need to figure out what the blazes Mr. Strother is after. Why did he abduct Elsbeth?”
Niles stepped forward, the pistol resting in his hand. “If I may,” he said, his tone contemplative, “I believe Mr. Strother has been playing both sides. He’s been stirring suspicion against both of you, but for what purpose?”
Alfred’s brow furrowed as he glanced at Niles. “That may be, but I saw the ledgers. Bedford was stealing from the late Lord Bedford’s estate.”
Bedford’s face contorted with anger. “Are you mad? I wasn’t stealing anything! What could I possibly take from a nearly bankrupt estate?”
Alfred squared his shoulders. “The ledgers don’t lie. Your uncle discovered your treachery, and that’s why you killed him.”
Bedford took a commanding step forward. “That is utter balderdash! You’re projecting your own guilt on me, Alfred. You killed my uncle so you could marry my aunt.”
Alfred’s face reddened with fury. “How dare you! I did no such thing!”
The two men began shouting over each other, their accusations growing louder and more heated by the second. Niles, his patience snapping, stepped between them and raised his hand in a commanding gesture. “Enough!” he barked.
