The room fell silent, and Niles fixed each of them with a stern gaze. “This infighting serves no purpose. While we argue, Elsbeth is out there, in danger. Whatever grievances you have with each other can wait. Right now, we focus on one thing—saving her.”
Alfred and Bedford exchanged a tense look. After a long pause, Alfred gave a curt nod. “You’re right. Elsbeth’s safety comes first.”
Bedford adjusted the pistol at his waistband and gave a firm nod. “Let’s move. Every moment we delay only puts more distance between us and Elsbeth.”
The three men exited the manor with purposeful strides. The sound of their boots on the gravel path was brisk and urgent as they made their way to the stables. Their determination hung in the air, thick and unyielding.
True to his word, Morton stood in the stable yard with three horses saddled and ready to ride. He hurried over as they approached, leading the first horse to Niles. “This is Elsbeth’s mare,” he explained, handing him the reins. “She is rather feisty, but I’ve no doubt you can handle her.”
Niles accepted the reins. “Thank you, Morton,” he said as he mounted the horse.
Beside him, Charles muttered, “The horse or Elsbeth? Which is feistier, do you think?”
Niles shot him a withering glance, his patience wearing thin. “Now isn’t the time for jokes, Bedford.”
Charles smirked but said nothing further as he mounted his own horse.
Morton stepped closer to the mare, his expression serious. “You’ll need to move quickly,” he urged. “Once the coach reaches the main road, Mr. Strother could take any number of routes. The longer you take, the harder it’ll be to track them.”
Niles turned his gaze towards the road that led out of the village. His jaw tightened as he considered the challenge ahead. “Then we’d best ride hard.”
Morton stepped back, his weathered face lined with concern. “Ride safe. And bring Lady Elsbeth home.”
With that, Niles spurred the mare into motion, leading the charge out of the stable yard and onto the road. The hooves of their horses pounded against the ground, kicking up dirt and pebbles as they raced against time.
The wind whipped past Niles’s face, but his thoughts were singularly focused. Elsbeth. He had to reach her, had to save her. He couldn’t fail. Not when her life—and his future—depended on it.
20
Elsbeth’s head throbbed, and the rhythmic sway of the coach made her stomach churn. Where was she? Slowly, she opened her eyes, her vision blurring before settling on the figure sitting across from her. Mr. Strother. The solicitor was holding a pistol aimed directly at her, his expression unnervingly calm.
Panic surged as she brought a hand to her head, trying to steady her thoughts. “What is the meaning of this?” she demanded, though her voice sounded weak and shaky.
Mr. Strother’s lips curled into an unsettling smile. “Good. You’re awake. I was beginning to worry I’d struck you too hard.”
The memory of being hit came rushing back to her. She straightened as much as she could in the cramped space. “You hit me? Why?”
He leaned back, the pistol never wavering. “It’s much easier to abduct someone when they’re unconscious. I would have thought that was rather obvious.”
Her stomach twisted as his words settled. “I don’t understand. What do you want?”
“Of course you don’t,” he said, his tone condescending. “ButI’ll save you the guessing game. I’ve been trying to kill you for days now. You’re remarkably resilient.”
“You were the one behind the planter falling?”
He grinned. “Among other things. The barrel, the lozenges, and even the gunshot. All me. The arsenic in the lozenges should’ve worked, but I underestimated the dosage.”
Her mind raced, connecting the pieces. “How did you even know Charles would offer me a lozenge?”
He shrugged dismissively. “It didn’t matter who took it—him or you. I swapped one in, knowing that eventually, one of you would eat it.”
Her voice rose in disbelief. “Why? Why would you do this?”
His expression hardened. “It’s simple. You need to die for your dowry to revert back to the estate. That money is the only thing that can sustain the lifestyle I’ve grown accustomed to.”
Her heart sank. “So Charles is behind this?”
Mr. Strother laughed, the sound cold and humorless. “Lord Bedford? He’s just a clueless fool. I’ve been embezzling from the estate long before your cousin assumed his title. But now, the coffers are empty. Your dowry is the only way out.”
