“So, what now?” Elsbeth demanded, her voice tinged with frustration. “We just sit and wait for Alfred to make another attempt on my life?”
“We don’t know for certain it was Alfred,” Niles remarked.
Elsbeth turned to him, her expression incredulous. “Who else could it be?”
Niles flicked a glance at Bedford, considering an unspokenpossibility, but he kept the thought to himself. “It’s too soon to make assumptions.”
Elsbeth wasn’t convinced. “I should confront Alfred directly,” she said. “Ask him what he knows about my father’s death.”
“Absolutely not!” Niles exclaimed.
Elsbeth’s chin lifted defiantly. “It’s the only plausible solution. He knows something. We can’t keep playing this waiting game, hoping for answers to fall into our laps.”
Bedford shook his head vehemently. “I have to agree with Westcott on this. If Alfred was truly behind the attempt on your life, what makes you think he won’t try again?”
Her lips thinned, but her determination didn’t waver. “Then what’s your plan? Do nothing? Let Alfred win?”
Niles hated to admit it, but she had a point. Their cautious approach wasn’t working. They needed something bolder. “If you did speak to Alfred…” he began cautiously.
“What?!” Bedford cut in, his voice rising with disbelief.
Niles held up a hand to forestall further protests. “If Elsbeth insists on speaking with him, then you and I will be stationed outside the door the entire time. The moment Alfred tries anything, we’ll intervene.”
“I can agree to that,” Elsbeth said.
Bedford, however, was less than pleased. He muttered under his breath, “This is madness.”
Niles met his gaze. “Together, we can keep Elsbeth safe.”
Bedford looked as though he wanted to argue further, but he let out a resigned sigh. “Fine. But the moment something feels off, I’m ending it.”
“Agreed,” Niles said.
This was a risky plan, but it was better than doing nothing.
16
With a purposeful stride, Elsbeth left the stables, her boots crunching against the gravel path as she headed towards the manor. The crisp morning air carried the scent of damp earth and pine, but she barely noticed it. Her mind was fixed on one thing: speaking to Alfred and uncovering the truth about her father’s death.
But what if he was involved?
The thought tightened her chest, but she refused to waver. She had spent too long standing idle, waiting for answers that would never come on their own. If she was to find the truth, she had to seize it, even if it meant putting herself in harm’s way.
As she reached the back entrance, she felt a firm yet gentle grip on her arm. Turning swiftly, she found herself face-to-face with Niles.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, concern etched on his features.
Elsbeth straightened her shoulders. “I do,” she replied. “I need to know the truth.”
His hand lingered for a moment before dropping to his side. “Be careful,” he urged. “I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”
Her lips parted, a reply hovering on the tip of her tongue. But before she could speak, Charles appeared beside them, his expression solemn.
“This is a terrible idea,” Charles said, his voice clipped. “You’re walking into a lion’s den without even knowing if there’s a lion inside.”
“I need to do something, Cousin,” Elsbeth retorted.
“I agree that action is necessary, but this is not the way,” he insisted, his gaze darting towards Niles as if seeking an ally.
