“No harm done.” She turned her attention to the book, attempting to ignore the way her skin still tingled where their hands had met. She grasped the book, pulling it carefully from its spot on the shelf.

Niles cleared his throat. “Allow me to escort you back to the drawing room?”

She glanced at his proffered arm and hesitated. Did she trust herself? Each time they touched, it felt as though something unspoken passed between them, something she couldn’t afford to examine too closely. And yet, propriety dictated her response.

She placed her hand lightly on his sleeve, determined to remain composed, and forced a polite smile to her lips. “Thank you,” she said.

As they walked back towards the drawing room, Niles asked, “Would you care to join me on a picnic this afternoon?”

“That sounds wonderful.”

He smiled. “I shall see to the arrangements then.”

Niles tugged on the reins, bringing the carriage to a halt in front of Elsbeth’s manor.

The soft crunch of gravel beneath the wheels filled the otherwise quiet afternoon.

He leaned back for a moment, his grip tightening on the reins as he took in the grand facade of the manor.

Why had he suggested a picnic? The answer was both obvious and unsettling.

He wanted to spend more time with Elsbeth. Alone.

What was wrong with him?

Why did he care so much about her plight? He had offered to help her uncover the truth about her stepfather, but somewhere along the way, his role as a mere ally had begun to blur into something more personal.

With a frustrated sigh, Niles secured the reins and stepped down onto the gravel path. Before he could make his way to the door, it opened, and Lord Bedford strode out with a purposeful look on his face. His usual easy demeanor was replaced by something sharper, more serious.

“A word, Westcott,” Bedford said, closing the distance between them.

Niles raised an eyebrow, unsure of the cause for this sudden confrontation. “Bedford,” he replied, his tone cautious.

Bedford stopped just short of him. “What are your intentions towards my cousin?”

“My intentions?” Niles repeated, incredulous. “I have none beyond taking Lady Elsbeth on a carriage ride and sharing a picnic. Surely, even you can find no fault in that.”

“I expect you to behave honorably.”

Niles couldn’t suppress a scoff. “Why do you care so much about propriety when you were the one who nearly shot her?”

Bedford stiffened, his jaw tightening. “That was an accident. ”

Niles allowed himself a pointed smile, the words coming out more biting than he intended. “And I daresay Lady Elsbeth will be safer in my company than she ever was in yours.”

Bedford’s eyes narrowed. “I beg your pardon?”

Before Niles could retort, the door opened again, and Elsbeth stepped outside. She looked beautiful, her jonquil gown accentuating her graceful figure, and her hair arranged in a delicate chignon. But it was her smile that captivated him the most.

“Lady Elsbeth,” Niles said, brushing past Bedford to offer his arm. “You look lovely.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, her cheeks coloring slightly as she accepted his arm.

He assisted her into the carriage, his focus entirely on her. From behind them, Bedford’s clipped voice called out, “Enjoy your picnic.”

Elsbeth glanced back, watching her cousin retreat into the manor. She turned to Niles with a curious look. “Dare I ask what Charles spoke to you about?”

Niles climbed into the carriage and sat beside her, reaching for the reins. “He wanted to ensure that I intended to behave honorably during our outing.”

“That was kind of him.”

Niles lifted an eyebrow, the reins taut in his hands. “Kind, yes. Much like the kindness he showed when he nearly shot you or when he poisoned you.”

Elsbeth sighed. “You have no proof that he did such things.”

“Perhaps not,” Niles admitted, urging the horses forward. “But his behavior is suspect.”

“My cousin is a good man,” Elsbeth insisted. “He would never intentionally hurt me. I’m certain of that.”

Niles refrained from arguing further, focusing on the road ahead. But the tension in his jaw betrayed his thoughts. “And what of your stepfather? Would he try to hurt you? ”

Elsbeth clasped her hands tightly in her lap. “I don’t know what he is capable of,” she confessed. “And that frightens me the most. He presents himself as kind and warm, but I believe it’s all an act.”

“Then you need to be cautious around him,” Niles advised.

She nodded but then added, “I overheard him telling my mother that he intends to travel to the village tomorrow.”

Niles glanced at her, catching the glint of determination in her eyes. “And I suppose you want to follow him?”

A mischievous smirk curved her lips. “You’re starting to know me too well.”

That was the truth. Niles turned his attention back to the road, trying to suppress the flicker of admiration her boldness inspired in him. It wasn’t just her quest for answers or her resilience that drew him in. No. It was Elsbeth herself. And that was both thrilling and terrifying.

Niles realized he had no interest in discussing Bedford or Mr. Stockton anymore. What he truly wanted was to learn more about Elsbeth. He turned to her. “Will you tell me about yourself?”

A playful glint sparkled in her eyes. “That’s rather vague. What exactly do you wish to know?”

That was an excellent question. What did he want to know about her? He decided to start small. “Besides dressing up as a highwaywoman, what else occupies your time?”

“The usual pursuits for a young lady, I suppose. My mother was determined that I excel at needlework and the pianoforte.”

“That sounds… thrilling.”

Her smile faltered slightly. “My life has grown rather dull since we moved to this godforsaken village,” she admitted, her voice carrying a tinge of bitterness.

“I find the village quaint.”

“Perhaps to visit,” Elsbeth countered, “but living here is an entirely different matter. There’s precious little to do, and most of the villagers don’t know quite what to make of me. Apart from your aunt, I have no other friends here.”

Her words carried a sadness that tugged at him, and Niles felt an inexplicable urge to remedy it. “I’m sorry your friends abandoned you.”

She gave him a rueful look. “Thank you, but I can’t say it surprises me. That’s what happens when scandal strikes.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“No,” she agreed, “but if I’m being honest, I probably would have done the same. A lady’s reputation is everything. When someone jeopardizes their own, it’s easier to walk away than risk being tainted by association.”

Niles studied her, the vulnerability behind her words surprising him. “I worry about Eugenie,” he admitted after a moment. “She can’t seem to pull her nose out of a book long enough to think about finding a husband.”

Elsbeth’s expression softened. “Your sister is resilient. When the right suitor comes along, I have no doubt she’ll put her book down.”

“I hope you’re right,” he remarked. “I swore to my father that I’d always look after her, that I’d make sure she’s taken care of.”

“You’re a good man,” Elsbeth said simply.

He winced at her words. “I don’t feel like one. I’ll never be the man my father was. He had this presence about him. He could command a room with just a glance. I doubt I’ll ever be like him.”

She gave him a thoughtful look. “And you don’t think you have that same ability?”

“Hardly,” Niles replied with a huff of frustration. “In Parliament, the other lords barely notice me. I have to fight to make myself heard, and even then, they dismiss my views as unimportant.”

“Then speak louder. ”

Niles let out a humorless laugh. “I doubt the volume of my voice will make a difference.”

“I envy you,” Elsbeth said. “You’re in a position to enact real change. You can do things most people can only dream of.”

“I’m failing at it,” he admitted.

She reached out and placed her hand gently on his sleeve. “You’re not failing. You’re finding your way, and when the time comes, you’ll make them listen. I have no doubt.”

Her faith in him, so freely given, settled something inside him. For the first time in a long while, Niles felt that maybe, just maybe, she was right.

Elsbeth withdrew her hand, and Niles found himself missing the warmth of her touch. Clearing his throat, he ventured cautiously, “Were you close with your father?”

“Hardly,” she replied, her voice steady but tinged with a trace of sadness. “He was rather indifferent to me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Niles said, unsure what else to offer.

A weak smile curved her lips. “He wasn’t cruel, not intentionally.

But as I grew older, it became painfully clear just how different we were.

My father couldn’t understand why I would spend my time making clothing for the orphans at the workhouse.

He believed poor people deserved their circumstances. ”

Niles glanced at her. “But you don’t believe that.”

“Heavens, no,” she said emphatically. “It’s hardly a child’s fault they were born into poverty. They’re denied opportunities from the start. How could they possibly be expected to rise above it without help?”

“I feel the same,” Niles said, his voice filled with conviction.

She nodded. “It’s refreshing to meet someone who shares that perspective. Most of the people I know are content to ignore such realities.”

“What first brought the workhouse to your attention?”

She shifted slightly on the bench to face him, her posture more animated. “I read an article in the newssheets. It painted such a grim picture that I didn’t want to believe it was true. But when I visited one myself, I realized the reality was even worse than I had imagined.”

“I’ve toured a few workhouses myself,” Niles said grimly. “The conditions are appalling. They are cramped, unsanitary, and dehumanizing. People barely survive. That’s when I knew I had to act.”

Elsbeth glanced down at her hands, her expression troubled. “I once asked my father to help, to use his influence to make a difference. He dismissed me outright and told me to stop being nonsensical. He believed if the poor truly wanted to improve their lives, they would work harder.”

“Unfortunately, that is a general consensus amongst the members of Parliament,” Niles replied, his tone laced with frustration.

Elsbeth sighed deeply. “Perhaps we should change the subject. The weather, perhaps?”

Niles chuckled at her attempt to lighten the mood. “I have no interest in discussing the weather.”

Feigning offense, she teased, “Do you not like weather, my lord?”

A genuine laugh escaped him. “I think we’ve progressed past the point in our friendship where small talk about the weather is necessary.”

Her face softened. “I’m glad we’re friends.”

“As am I, Elsbeth.” And he meant it. Despite the complexities surrounding them, he had come to genuinely value her company. “What was your childhood like?”

The question brought a wistful smile to her lips. “It was idyllic, in its way. I grew up at our country estate, surrounded by gardens and rolling hills. My mother doted on me something fierce.”

“But not your father?” Niles probed.

She shook her head. “He was always busy in meetings, social engagements, and whatnot. I can count on one hand the number of times I truly spent time with him as a child.”

“That must have been hard for you.”

“It was familiar,” she corrected. “Not that he was absent from my life entirely. He made decisions, like hiring a governess for me. We became quite close until my mother abruptly dismissed her.”

“Dare I ask why?”

Elsbeth grew visibly tense. “Apparently, my father and the governess had grown… too close. When she began increasing, my mother refused to allow the scandal to tarnish our household.”

Niles tightened his grip on the reins. “Pardon me for saying so, but your father sounds like a cad.”

“You wouldn’t be wrong,” Elsbeth admitted. “He had many flaws, but at the end of the day, he was still my father. That’s all I know.”

“Are you close to your mother?”

Elsbeth pressed her lips together. “We used to be close, before she married Alfred. Things were different then. Simpler. But now… now she’s constantly frustrated with me.

She can’t understand why I’m so insistent that Alfred isn’t the man she believes him to be.

She dismisses my concerns, utterly convinced that I’m wrong. ”

Niles leaned forward. “Has Alfred ever been unkind to you?”

“No,” Elsbeth replied. “And that’s part of the problem. He’s been nothing but kind to me, almost overly so, as if he’s trying to replace my father.”

“Has he ever said that?”

“Well, no,” she responded. “But why else would he act so… accommodating? It’s almost unnerving.”

Niles hesitated, carefully weighing his next words. “Have you tried being kind to him in return? ”

Her head snapped towards him, her eyes narrowing slightly. “I don’t throw rocks at him, if that’s what you’re asking.”

A grin tugged at his lips. “That’s a start. But what I mean is, have you tried treating him as someone who might genuinely care for you, instead of assuming his motives are purely self-serving?”

Elsbeth fidgeted with her hands in her lap. “Your suggestion implies that I’ve been the one making things difficult.”

“I’m not saying Alfred doesn’t have his secrets,” Niles clarified. “He very well might. But what if his kindness isn’t a calculated move? What if it is genuine? Would it hurt to show him the same courtesy?”

Elsbeth’s expression grew guarded, but her eyes revealed a flicker of something. Was it regret? Annoyance? Uncertainty? He couldn’t quite place it.

“You’re asking me to do something I’m not sure I’m capable of,” she said at last.

“I’m asking you to consider the possibility,” Niles replied. “That’s all.”

For a moment, neither spoke. The only sound was the rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels against the road. Elsbeth finally let out a soft sigh, her shoulders relaxing just slightly.

“I’ll think about it,” she murmured.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.