The rain lashed against the windows in relentless sheets, obscuring the gardens from view as Niles stood by the window.

He was restless. And that was so unlike him.

He had a myriad of things to do but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do anything.

It had been two days since Lady Isabella’s note arrived, informing them that Elsbeth had fallen ill.

He told himself he should focus on his ledgers or correspondence, anything to keep his mind occupied. But every time he tried, his thoughts strayed back to Elsbeth. Why did her illness trouble him so much? He had no reason to be so preoccupied. Yet he was, and that truth unsettled him.

Niles turned to see Eugenie sitting comfortably on the settee, a book balanced in her lap. Her serene demeanor only magnified his inner turmoil. As if sensing his gaze, she looked up and gave him a pointed look.

“Do sit down, Brother. You are making me anxious by just looking at you.”

He sighed and crossed the room, settling into a chair across from her. “What are you reading?”

Eugenie perked up. “Do you truly wish to know, or are you merely bored out of your wits?”

“Perhaps a little of both,” he admitted. “There’s little else to occupy me at the moment.”

Her lips twitched with amusement. “Your enthusiasm is truly inspiring. Tell me, why are you moping about? It can’t simply be the rain.”

“I am not moping,” he retorted, though even he heard the defensive edge in his tone.

“You most certainly are,” she countered. “And it began right after we received word that Lady Elsbeth was unwell. Quite the coincidence, wouldn’t you agree?”

Niles leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “You’ve been reading too many novels.”

“This has nothing to do with my love of books,” Eugenie said, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “It just begs the question, have you developed affection for Elsbeth?”

His huff of indignation was immediate. “Good heavens! How can you even suggest such a thing?”

“Because it’s glaringly obvious,” she said with a knowing smile.

He straightened in his seat, determined to put an end to her teasing. “For the record, I would not marry Lady Elsbeth if she were the last woman on earth. I am simply concerned for her wellbeing, nothing more.”

Eugenie raised an eyebrow. “So your interest is purely innocent?”

“Precisely,” he replied curtly. “Though I do find it odd that she fell ill so suddenly. She appeared perfectly well the last time I saw her.”

Eugenie placed her book aside, her eyes dancing with mock drama. “Do you suspect foul play, Brother? Was she poisoned?”

His expression grew somber. “That would explain it.”

Eugenie blinked, startled by his seriousness. “And who, pray tell, do you think poisoned her?”

“Lord Bedford,” he said without hesitation.

Her mouth fell open. “You cannot be serious! Why on earth would Lord Bedford poison his cousin?”

“It makes sense,” Niles insisted.

“No, it does not,” Eugenie argued. “Lord Bedford did not poison his cousin.”

Niles wasn’t quite convinced. “He did take a shot at her.”

“I’m not entirely sure that was Lord Bedford,” Eugenie argued. “He wasn’t aiming at Elsbeth.”

He arched his eyebrow. “Are you saying there was another shooter there, and he was aiming for Lady Elsbeth?”

Eugenie winced slightly. “I know that sounds ludicrous.”

“It does,” Niles replied.

“It is more plausible than Lord Bedford trying to kill Elsbeth,” Eugenie remarked.

Before they could debate further, Aunt Margaret entered the drawing room, a letter in her hand. “I’ve just received word from Lady Isabella. Elsbeth is feeling much improved. The doctor believes it was merely a bout of food poisoning.”

Niles frowned. Food poisoning? That didn’t sit well with him. Many poisons mimicked those symptoms, and the timing seemed too convenient. He stood abruptly, straightening his waistcoat. “We should call on Lady Elsbeth.”

Aunt Margaret studied him for a moment, then nodded. “I agree. I’ll join you.” She turned to Eugenie. “Would you like to come as well?”

Eugenie hesitated before rising to her feet. “I suppose I should.”

Aunt Margaret smiled knowingly. “It’s a good thing I had the coach brought around. I suspected we’d all want to visit Elsbeth at once.”

As they prepared to leave, Niles couldn’t shake the sense of urgency gnawing at him. Something about Elsbeth’s sudden illness didn’t sit right. There were too many unanswered questions, and he was determined to find clarity.

Eugenie stepped beside him. “People fall ill all the time, Brother. I wouldn’t be so quick to assume the worst.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he climbed into the awaiting coach, settling into the seat opposite his sister and Aunt Margaret. The coach jolted forward, and Niles turned his attention to the rain-streaked window. He had no interest in idle chatter, but Aunt Margaret didn’t share his sentiment.

“I received an invitation to Lady Isabella’s soiree,” she announced brightly. “I thought it would be nice for us to attend.”

“That sounds delightful,” Eugenie said, smoothing her pale pink gown.

Niles shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I’ll pass,” he muttered. The idea of mingling at a soiree held little appeal.

Aunt Margaret adopted a feigned look of innocence. “Oh, dear. I’m afraid it’s too late for that. I’ve already confirmed our attendance. I didn’t think you’d object.”

He narrowed his eyes. “How convenient.”

Eugenie grinned. “Don’t sulk, Brother. You’ve been in a foul mood ever since Elsbeth’s illness was announced. Perhaps seeing her will lift your spirits.”

“I’m not sulking,” he snapped. “And my concern for Elsbeth is purely platonic. ”

“Yes, of course,” Eugenie said, her tone dripping with mock sincerity. “We all believe you.”

Niles looked heavenward, since he was done with the conversation. His sister was seeing connections where there were none, or so he tried to convince himself. He couldn’t have feelings for Elsbeth. He wouldn’t.

But, blast it all, he did.

The coach came to a stop in front of Elsbeth’s manor, pulling him from his thoughts. He stepped out onto the gravel path, helping his aunt and sister descend, and led the way to the door. It swung open before they reached it, and the butler greeted them with a bow.

“Lady Elsbeth is resting in the drawing room and is expecting you,” the butler informed them. “Please, follow me, and I shall announce you.”

Niles nodded but felt Eugenie’s hand on his arm as they walked. “A word of caution,” she murmured. “Don’t go making Elsbeth paranoid about Lord Bedford. You’ve no proof of your suspicions.”

Just his gut, but he knew his sister would not appreciate that remark. “I understand,” he decided to reply.

Eugenie looked pleased with his response and strode confidently into the drawing room.

Niles followed, his gaze immediately finding Elsbeth.

She was seated on the settee, a blanket draped over her lap.

Her cheeks had a healthy flush, and though she looked tired, she didn’t appear gravely ill. Relief coursed through him.

Aunt Margaret wasted no time in taking the seat beside Elsbeth, clasping her hand warmly. “My dear, we’ve been so worried about you.”

Elsbeth smiled faintly. “The doctor believes it was just a bout of food poisoning.”

Niles stepped closer, his brow furrowed. “And what do you believe? ”

Elsbeth offered him a bemused look. “I see no reason to doubt the doctor’s conclusion. It explains my symptoms.”

“Did you experience nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea?” Niles asked bluntly.

A deep blush spread across her cheeks. “I’d rather not discuss that, my lord.”

Aunt Margaret gasped. “For heaven’s sake, Niles! One does not ask a lady about such things!”

“My apologies,” he said quickly, though his curiosity remained unabated. He needed to speak with Elsbeth privately, but how?

Eugenie chimed in, her tone light. “I had food poisoning once, and I haven’t been able to stomach baked apples since. Just the smell makes me queasy.”

“That sounds dreadful,” Elsbeth acknowledged.

Niles watched her carefully. She was putting on a brave face, but something about her demeanor left him unsettled. He resolved to find a moment alone with her to press further. Whatever was going on, he wasn’t about to let it go unanswered.