“Of course,” Elsbeth replied, glancing at Charles, who shrugged in response.
The three of them entered the study, and Alfred quietly closed the door behind them. His demeanor shifted, becoming more formal. “I wanted to speak to you both about something important,” he began. “It concerns Elsbeth’s dowry.”
Charles raised an eyebrow, leaning casually against the edge of a desk. “And what’s prompted this discussion?”
Alfred hesitated for a moment, his gaze softening as it fell on Elsbeth. “You look radiant, my dear.”
“Thank you, Father,” she replied.
His eyes grew moist, and he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to dab at them. “Hearing you call me that means more than you could ever know. I waited so long to tell you the truth.”
“And I’m glad you finally did,” Elsbeth said.
Alfred took a deep breath. “I’ve spent weeks searching for the perfect wedding gift, and I believe I’ve found it.”
“There’s no need—” Elsbeth began, but Alfred raised a hand to gently silence her.
“It is my right as your father, and it involves both of you.” Alfred’s expression turned serious. “I know the truth about your parentage has complicated your feelings about your dowry, Elsbeth. But I believe I’ve found a solution. I intend to match your dowry with my own funds and gift it to Charles to help his estate.”
Elsbeth’s eyes widened. “Are you certain, Father?”
“Quite certain,” Alfred replied. “Declining your dowry would only invite questions, and I refuse to let that happen. This way, we ensure discretion.”
Elsbeth stepped forward, emotion spilling over. “Oh, Father, thank you. This means so much.”
Alfred placed his hands on her shoulders. “All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy.”
“I am happy, more so than I ever thought possible,” Elsbeth admitted as tears flooded into her eyes. “How can I not be?”
As Charles stood quietly to the side, he looked stunned. “Thank you, Alfred,” he said sincerely. “This will make all the difference.”
“I wish you luck, I truly do. I know I am merely a merchant and can’t possibly understand the pressures of your position in Society—” Alfred started.
Charles cut him off before he could finish. “You are one of the finest men I know, and you have accomplished more than most men could ever dream of. Do not think yourself any less because you were not born into gentry.”
Alfred studied Charles for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before he finally tipped his head in quiet acknowledgment. “Shall we depart for the chapel?” he asked. “I suspect Lord Westcott is rather impatient to get this day started.”
“I think that’s a fine idea,” Elsbeth agreed.
Alfred extended his arm, and Elsbeth placed her hand on it. The simple gesture carried an unspoken weight between them, a sign of their growing bond. As they made their way to the entry hall, the sound of Niles’s voice reached her ears. Her heart quickened, as it always did when he was near. Would she ever grow used to this feeling? She hoped not.
Niles’s face brightened as she approached. “Elsbeth,” he greeted, closing the distance between them. Without hesitation, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips.
“You cannot take such liberties,” she teased, a light reprimand in her tone. “We are not married yet.”
Niles, not looking the least bit repentant, said, “My apologies.”
“Well, if you refuse to observe propriety, neither shall I,” she quipped, and before he could respond, she kissed him back, letting herself melt into his embrace.
From behind them, Charles groaned loudly. “Good gads, could either of you show some restraint? Spare the rest of us.”
Elsbeth broke the kiss with a laugh, stepping back but still holding Niles’s hand. “Perhaps Charles has a point.”
“Please don’t say that again,” Niles replied, placing a hand over his heart in mock distress. “It sounds dreadfully wrong.”
Charles looked heavenward. “Why are you here, Westcott? Weren’t you planning to meet us at the chapel?”
“I was,” Niles admitted. “But I realized I wanted to be the one to escort Elsbeth to the chapel, assuming she doesn’t object.”
