Elsbeth placed a hand on Charles’s sleeve. “You must trust me. Besides, you and Niles will be right outside the door, ensuring I’m safe.”
Charles’s frown deepened as he turned his gaze to Niles. “You seem awfully familiar with Lord Westcott, calling him by his given name so freely.”
Niles offered a faint smile. “I gave her leave to do so.”
“That doesn’t make it right,” Charles muttered, shaking his head.
Elsbeth’s voice grew determined. “I will be fine, Charles. You’ll see.”
“And if Alfred is behind the attempt on your life, as I suspect he is?” Charles pressed.
“Then you and Niles will keep me safe,” she stated, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Shall we?”
A footman stepped forward and opened the door, and Elsbeth walked inside without hesitation, though her heart was pounding. Her steps echoed in the quiet corridors as she made her way to Alfred’s study, each one a mixture of courage and fear.
Reaching the door, she peered inside and saw Alfred hunched over his desk, sifting through a stack of ledgers.
Elsbeth glanced back at Niles and nodded. She knocked lightly before stepping inside, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Alfred looked up from his work, a smile spreading across his face. “Good morning, Elsbeth,” he greeted, his tone warm but tinged with something she couldn’t quite place. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
She forced a smile in return. “I was hoping to speak with you for a moment.”
“Please, sit,” he said, gesturing to the chair opposite his desk.
Elsbeth perched on the edge of the chair, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She inhaled deeply, steadying her nerves. She could do this. Shehadto do this.
But before she could speak, Alfred rose and crossed the room, closing the door with an ominous click.
Her breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected that. Now Niles and Charles wouldn’t hear if something went wrong.
Returning to his desk, Alfred folded his hands and studied her with an unreadable expression. “Now, what is it you wish to discuss?”
Her mind wavered, caught between caution and determination. “I… I was wondering…” she began, faltering under the weight of his gaze.
“You can be honest with me, Elsbeth,” Alfred encouraged.
The irony of his words almost made her laugh. Summoning her courage, she met his gaze. “I was wondering what you know about my father’s death.”
The smile faded from Alfred’s face, replaced by a guarded expression. “And why, may I ask, are you curious about that?”
Her heart raced as she scrambled for a plausible response. “I’ve been thinking about him lately,” she said, her voice steady despite the lie. “That’s all.”
“You shouldn’t be asking such questions,” Alfred replied, his tone carrying a subtle edge.
“Why not?” she challenged, her tone firmer now.
Alfred leaned back in his chair, studying her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. “Your father’s death was an unfortunate accident, nothing more.”
“Is that what you believe?” she pressed, unwilling to let him dismiss her so easily.
“It doesn’t matter what I believe,” Alfred said. “It’s what the coroner concluded.”
Elsbeth’s resolve wavered for a moment, but she refused to back down. “Sometimes coroners are wrong.”
Alfred’s eyes narrowed, his calm demeanor fracturing just slightly. “Be careful, Elsbeth. Curiosity can be a dangerous thing.”
Her pulse quickened at his words, but she held his gaze, refusing to let him see her fear. “So can secrets.”
