Lady Elsbeth interjected. “I think I would very much like to meet this cat.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Niles replied. “You must trust me on this.”
As he spoke, the coach slowed before coming to an abrupt halt in front of Lady Elsbeth’s manor. Niles shifted instinctively, preparing to assist her out of the coach. Lady Elsbeth reached for the door, but he held up a hand. “Allow me, my lady.”
He stepped out first, extending his hand to her. The moment her gloved fingers brushed against his, he felt asurprising spark of awareness. It was an unnerving but not entirely unpleasant sensation. Once her feet were firmly on the ground, she withdrew her hand and took a step back.
“Thank you, my lord. For everything,” she said.
He tilted his head, offering her a half-smile. “Can we move past this newfound civility and return to barely tolerating one another?”
Lady Elsbeth’s lips curved into a smile. It was so radiant and unguarded that it briefly stunned him. “I think that is a wise course of action.”
“Then it is settled,” Niles said. “We will return to the way things were before our trip to the village.”
Lady Elsbeth nodded. “Good day, my lord.”
He stood there, rooted in place, watching her with an inexplicable sense of reluctance. Returning to the way things had been before seemed almost impossible now, not after the day’s events. Not after holding her in his arms.
Just as she reached the door, she paused and turned, a gesture so unexpected that it caught him off guard. She lifted a hand in a small wave, and he, without hesitation, raised his own to return it.
And in that quiet, unremarkable moment, Niles realized something unsettling but undeniable: he no longer despised Lady Elsbeth.
5
Elsbeth sat atop her horse, hidden within the dense shadows of trees lining the road, her heart pounding as she waited for her stepfather’s coach. She clenched the reins tightly, her breath visible in the chilly night air. The weight of her mission pressed heavily on her shoulders. She needed that key. The secrets it guarded consumed her thoughts.
A low whinny from the woodlands snapped her attention away. Her pulse quickened. Someone else was here. She wasn’t alone. Swallowing her fear, Elsbeth reached for the pistol tucked into the waistband of her trousers. She couldn’t be caught. Not like this. The repercussions would be disastrous, and her family’s already tarnished reputation would be utterly ruined.
From the shadows emerged a lone figure on horseback. The moonlight glinted off his dark hair, and the sound of his voice sent a chill down her spine. “Don’t go,” he called out. “I mean you no harm.”
Her heart sank.
That voice. She would recognize it anywhere.
Lord Westcott.
For a moment, her instinct screamed for her to flee, to disappear deeper into the woodlands and abandon this foolish confrontation. But her curiosity held her in place. Why was he here? What did he want?
Lowering her voice to disguise it, she asked, “What do you want?”
“I just want to talk,” he replied.
She adjusted her mask, her fingers trembling slightly as she tried to maintain her composure. “Talk? At this hour? Out here? Forgive me if I find that hard to believe.”
“I want to understand why you are doing this,” Lord Westcott replied.
“I do not owe you an explanation.”
Lord Westcott urged his horse forward but stopped a short distance away. “No,” he admitted, “but you seem driven, purposeful. What compels you to take such a risk?”
He wouldn’t understand her reasonings so there was no point in telling him the truth. “It is just something I have to do.”
“Are you in need of money?”
Elsbeth frowned. “I am not doing this for the money.”
“Then why are you doing this?” Lord Westcott pressed. “After all, you are risking your life by robbing coaches.”
