Alfred held her gaze as he added, “And Elsbeth… remember what we discussed.”
“I won’t forget,” she replied.
“Good,” he said curtly before retaking his seat and flipping open the ledger, his focus shifting as if dismissing her entirely.
As she stepped out of the study, she caught both Niles’s and Charles’s questioning gazes. Pressing a finger to her lips, she gestured towards the nearby parlor, her steps purposeful yet silent.
Once inside the parlor, she closed the door behind themwith deliberate care and turned to face the two men. “Alfred knows more about my father’s death than he’s letting on,” she announced.
“What did he say?” Charles asked.
Elsbeth let out a groan. “Nothing substantial. He cautioned me to stop asking questions, but he didn’t reveal anything useful.”
Niles stepped closer, his concern evident in the way his eyes searched hers. “Did he threaten you?”
“Not directly. He only said he hopes we can have a ‘cordial relationship,’” she replied.
Charles scoffed. “That is not likely to happen. He’s more focused on keeping his secrets than forming any semblance of a family bond.”
“We can’t keep tiptoeing around this,” Niles said. “The more he feels cornered, the more dangerous he might become.”
“I understand the risk,” she responded. “But I also can’t stop now. If Alfred knows something about my father’s death, I need to uncover the truth—no matter the cost.”
Charles gave her an exasperated look. “And what happens if that cost is your life, Cousin?”
Her eyes flickered between Charles and Niles, her determination unshaken. “Then it’s a price I’m willing to pay,” she responded.
Both men exchanged a look, one filled with shared concern and frustration.
Niles broke the silence. “If we’re going to proceed, we’ll need a better plan. Furthermore, we will need to ensure you’re never alone with Alfred again.”
Elsbeth didn’t argue, but her thoughts swirled with doubt and the relentless need for answers. Whatever Alfred was hiding, she would uncover it. She owed her father—and herself—that much.
Niles sat beside Elsbeth at the long, rectangular dining table, attempting to ignore the irritated glances that Bedford kept throwing his way. Despite the tension, his attention was drawn to Elsbeth. She sat silently, absentmindedly moving her food around with her fork, her brow slightly furrowed in thought.
Leaning closer, he lowered his voice so only she could hear. “Are you not hungry?”
Elsbeth placed her fork down and let out a soft sigh. “I will admit that I am not,” she replied. “I suppose I can’t stop thinking about my conversation with my stepfather.”
Before Niles could press further, her mother’s voice interrupted. “A word, Elsbeth,” Lady Isabella said.
“Of course,” Elsbeth replied, rising from her seat.
Niles immediately stood as well and offered his hand, a gesture that earned him a fleeting but appreciative smile from Elsbeth before she followed her mother out of the room.
As Niles returned to his seat, Bedford wasted no time, his words sharp. “Do you not have a home, Westcott?”
“I do,” Niles replied, meeting Bedford’s gaze with calm resolve. “But I think it’s best if I remain here for Elsbeth’s sake.”
Bedford arched an eyebrow, his expression one of thinly veiled disdain. “And why, pray tell, is that necessary?”
“To ensure her safety,” Niles said simply.
Bedford leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. “I am more than capable of handling that myself.”
Niles didn’t miss the challenge in Bedford’s tone. “Do you object to my presence here?”
“I do,” Bedford replied. “I thought that much was obvious.”
