Realization struck her like a blow. “You were stealing from my father, too, weren’t you?”
He gave a slow, deliberate nod. “Indeed. But your father was much more clever than Charles. He began to notice discrepancies. That’s why he had to die.”
The air seemed to leave her lungs. “You killed my father?”
“I did,” he replied, as if it were a mere inconvenience. “It wasn’t difficult. Your father was a creature of habit and was predictable to the end.”
Her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re a monster.”
He looked bored by her accusation. “Your father was no saint, my lady. He squandered fortunes on mistresses and debts. I simply took what I felt I deserved. And when hebecame a problem, I eliminated him. Just as I plan to eliminate you.”
“It is only a matter of time before Charles figures out what you are doing,” Elsbeth stated.
“I am counting on it,” he replied. “Which is why Lord Bedford will have to die soon enough. Then, I will disappear with his money.”
Elsbeth’s mind scrambled for a way to stall. “I do believe you have underestimated Lord Westcott. He will come for me.”
Mr. Strother’s smile wavered for the first time. “Lord Westcott? He may have some affection for you, but he’ll return to his estate soon enough. Important men like him don’t waste their lives chasing lost causes.”
Elsbeth held his gaze, attempting to sound more confident than she felt. “You don’t know him as I do.”
He leaned forward, his pistol gleaming ominously in the dim light. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll be dead before anyone can save you.”
Desperation clawed at her, but she pressed on. “The gunshot—how did you manage that?”
Mr. Strother chuckled. “That was my favorite bit of ingenuity. I waited behind a tree for the right moment and timed it perfectly with Lord Bedford’s shot. Everyone assumed it was an accident.”
“And the barrel?” she pressed.
His eyes narrowed slightly. “I hired a shopkeeper to do the deed, but the fool failed. I had to silence him permanently after that.”
“You killed him, too?”
“Of course,” Mr. Strother replied, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “Loose ends are a liability.”
Elsbeth’s mind raced, but her body remained frozen in place. She couldn’t let this man win, couldn’t let him snuff outher life so easily. Somewhere, somehow, she had to find a way to escape.
Her eyes darted to the coach door, calculating the distance to the ground. She could throw herself out, but she could be trampled by the iron wheels. The risk was too great. One misstep, and she’d trade one death for another.
Mr. Strother’s sharp gaze followed her line of sight. “Thinking of making a dramatic exit, are we?” His smirk was smug. “Go ahead. I won’t stop you. But let me assure you, if you somehow survive the fall, I’ll put a bullet in you before you can take a single step.”
His confidence, his arrogance, made her even more determined. She kept her expression guarded, not willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear. Instead, she adjusted her position, feigning discomfort as she moved closer to the edge of the seat.
“What do you want from me?” she asked, her voice trembling just enough to sound genuine. If she could keep him talking, perhaps she could find an opening and a moment of distraction.
Mr. Strother leaned back against the cushioned seat, his grip on the pistol still firm. “I thought I made myself clear,” he replied. “Your death is the key to my freedom. Once you’re gone, your dowry reverts to the estate, and I can finally leave this miserable country behind.”
“You’re willing to kill for money?” she pressed, her tone incredulous. “Is that all you care about?”
“It’s not just money,” Mr. Strother snapped. “It’s what the money represents. Power. Independence. The ability to live a life free of restrictions.”
“And the lives you destroy along the way mean nothing to you?”
“Don’t preach to me, Lady Elsbeth,” he sneered. “Your father was no saint. He ruined lives with his recklessgambling and selfish pursuits. I’m merely playing the game he started.”
Her heart ached at the cold reality of his words, but she refused to let his twisted reasoning deter her. “Just so you know, you are wrong about Niles,” she said. “He won’t stop looking for me.”
“Lord Westcott is a practical man. He’ll move on. Men like him always do.”
