“It is,” Lord Bedford replied.
Niles observed that Elsbeth brought a hand to her lips to hide a smile, though the amusement in her eyes was unmistakable. He could understand the humor in the situation, but hefelt a pang of sympathy for his sister. Eugenie was trying so hard to engage Lord Bedford in conversation and it clearly wasn’t working.
A short time later, they reached the pond, surrounded by a blend of tall trees and dense holly undergrowth. Eugenie surveyed the area and gave a satisfied nod. “This is a good spot to flush out pheasants.”
“I concur,” Lord Bedford remarked.
Pointing towards a clearing in the distance, Eugenie said, “That would be the perfect place to shoot.”
Lord Bedford adjusted his grip on his rifle, his expression focused. “Shall we?”
As Eugenie and Lord Bedford walked towards their designated shooting spot, Niles stole a glance over at Elsbeth. “I don’t trust Lord Bedford,” he confessed.
Elsbeth’s brow furrowed as she looked at him. “Whyever not?”
Niles began methodically loading his rifle, using the moment to think carefully about his response. He couldn’t betray Eugenie’s confidence, but he needed to voice his concerns. “He just strikes me as… well, a rake.”
Elsbeth threw her head back with a laugh that echoed lightly through the woods. “Pardon me, my lord, but my cousin is no rake.”
Her laughter softened the tension in Niles, though only slightly. Still, it was good to see her in such high spirits, even if just for a moment.
Elsbeth’s smile dimmed into something more thoughtful. “Charles and I both agreed a union between us would be madness,” she shared, her tone shifting. “Apparently, he only offered for me because he pitied me. My mother wrote to him and told him how terribly unhappy I was here.”
Niles lowered his rifle, suddenly more interested in her words than the hunt. “Why are you unhappy here?”
Elsbeth sighed, her gaze wandering to the horizon. “How could I not be? I once had the world at my feet in Town—balls, opera houses, intelligent conversation—and now I’m tucked away in this far-off coastal village with little company beyond Lady Margaret.”
“There are worse companions,” Niles teased, hoping to coax a smile from her again.
To his relief, she grinned. “True. I am grateful for your aunt’s friendship, but it is still terribly lonely.”
“Have you told your mother this?”
She shook her head. “No. She’s far too consumed with Alfred. He’s bewitched her. She has no idea who he truly is.”
“And you do?” Niles pressed.
“Not yet,” she admitted. “But I will gather the proof I need.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the approach of a short man with a bushy beard, his leather boots crunching on the gravel. He raised a hand in greeting. “My lord, my lady.”
Elsbeth turned to him with a warm smile. “Good morning, Mr. White.” She glanced at Niles. “Mr. White is my stepfather’s gamekeeper.”
Mr. White gestured towards a group of beaters standing in formation nearby, some holding leashes of eager hunting dogs. “The beaters are ready, my lord. On my command, they’ll start driving the pheasants out.”
“Excellent,” Niles replied, his gaze flicking briefly to where Eugenie and Lord Bedford were stationed a short distance away. “I believe we’re ready.”
At Mr. White’s command, the beaters surged forward into the undergrowth, their sticks thrashing through the dense vegetation. Moments later, a flurry of wings erupted as several pheasants broke cover, soaring skyward. Niles raised his rifle with practiced ease and fired. One of the birds plummeted to the ground, and a hunting dog darted forward to retrieve it.
“Well done,” Elsbeth said with genuine admiration.
Niles shrugged, lowering his gun. “It was just one bird. If I don’t put on a good show today, Eugenie will never let me hear the end of it.”
Elsbeth studied him for a moment before saying, “You and your sister seem quite close.”
“We are,” Niles replied, beginning to reload his rifle. “We had to be after our parents died so suddenly. We learned to rely on each other.”
“I always wished I had a sibling,” Elsbeth admitted wistfully.
