E lsbeth sat at the dining table, absently pushing her food around on her plate with her fork. The clinking of cutlery and low murmur of conversation surrounded her, but she felt detached from it all.

Her thoughts lingered on her earlier conversation with Niles.

His words had struck deeper than she cared to admit.

He wasn’t the first to suggest she should be kinder to Alfred, but somehow, coming from him, it carried more weight.

It gnawed at her. Could she truly soften towards the man who had so thoroughly disrupted her life?

She sighed quietly, longing for a simpler time when her father was alive, her family unbroken, and her world unmarred by scandal and suspicion. But the past was an unreachable dream, and the present demanded her attention.

Her mother’s voice broke through her reverie. “Dear, are you not hungry?”

Elsbeth set down her fork and knife, carefully masking her inner turmoil. “I do apologize. I was woolgathering.”

Charles, seated across the table, raised an eyebrow. “Were you thinking of Lord Westcott? ”

“Heavens, no,” she replied a little too quickly. “I try not to think of him at all.”

Charles grew solemn. “Good, because I’m not entirely sure I trust him.”

Elsbeth had to fight the urge to laugh. If Charles only knew what Niles thought of him. Instead, she maintained her composure. “Lord Westcott is a good, honorable man. I trust him.”

“You’re far too trusting, Cousin,” Charles responded.

This time, she nearly did laugh. If only Charles knew how deeply she questioned nearly everyone in her life.

Alfred, seated at the head of the table, interjected. “Did you have an enjoyable time on your picnic with Lord Westcott?”

“Yes, I did,” Elsbeth replied.

Alfred nodded in approval. “It was a fine day for a picnic.”

The old Elsbeth would have retorted with a sharp comment, but she was trying to heed Niles’s advice and be kinder. It was an uphill battle.

Charles leaned forward slightly and asked, “What do you actually know about Lord Westcott?”

“I know that he has been kind to me,” she responded. She kept her expression guarded, unwilling to betray that she and Niles were working together to uncover Alfred’s secrets.

The footmen moved in to clear their plates, providing a temporary reprieve. But Charles wasn’t ready to let it go.

“I think you should stay away from Lord Westcott,” he said bluntly.

“And why is that?” Elsbeth asked, her voice laced with challenge.

Charles gave her a pointed look. “Your reputation is already in tatters. Any lord with sense would steer clear of you. So it begs the question: what does Lord Westcott truly want?”

Her breath caught at his words. As much as she hated to admit it, Charles had a point. Why had Niles agreed to help her? What was his true motive ?

“Well, I, for one, think it’s wonderful that Elsbeth is spending time with Lord Westcott,” her mother chimed in.

“I concur with my lovely wife,” Alfred said.

Elsbeth bit back the urge to roll her eyes. Alfred’s constant agreement with her mother was maddening, though she couldn’t quite place why it irked her so much.

A footman placed pudding in front of her mother, who looked up with a bright smile. “I’ve invited Lord Westcott, Lady Eugenie, and Lady Margaret to join us for a game of Snapdragon this evening. They should be here shortly.”

“Wonderful,” Alfred said with a grin. “I haven’t played Snapdragon in ages.”

Charles groaned dramatically. “That’s not the word I would use.”

The butler entered, his voice cutting through the chatter. “My lady, your guests have arrived.”

“Thank you,” her mother replied, pushing back her chair. “Shall we all adjourn to the drawing room?”

Elsbeth’s heart began to race at the prospect of seeing Niles again. Why did he have this effect on her? She longed to feel indifferent towards him. But she couldn’t. His presence stirred something in her she couldn’t quite name.

After they rose from their seats, Charles came to her side and whispered, “Promise me you’ll be careful with Lord Westcott.”

“I will,” she said, matching his tone.

“Good,” he replied. “Because he’ll be leaving soon enough, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

The thought of Niles leaving made her chest tighten. Of course, he would leave. He had a home, a life outside this village. And she? She would remain here, in the tangled mess of her family’s secrets and her own unspoken fears.

That was the way it should be.

At least, that’s what she told herself .

As they walked towards the drawing room, Elsbeth’s eyes sought out Niles almost instinctively. He stood by the window, the light of the flickering fire casting shadows across his features, looking deucedly handsome.

When he caught her gaze, he smiled. It was a smile that disarmed her entirely. Against her better judgment, she returned the smile. But she didn’t approach him. Not yet. Instead, she turned her attention to Eugenie and Lady Margaret, who were standing in the center of the room.

“Good evening,” Elsbeth greeted as she came to a stop beside them.

Lady Margaret enveloped her in a warm embrace. “You are looking well, my dear. Much better than when I last saw you.”

“Thank you,” Elsbeth replied graciously.

Before she could think of something else to say, Niles’s voice came from behind her, close enough that it sent a shiver down her spine. “It must have been all those biscuits she consumed during our picnic.”

She turned towards him. How had she not noticed him approach? “I do have a fondness for sweets, my lord.”

Niles grinned, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “I think that was evident by the way you devoured those biscuits. Impressive, truly.”

Feigning indignation, she placed a hand over her heart. “A gentleman would never speak of such things!”

“My apologies, Lady Elsbeth,” he said. “I would hate to wound your delicate sensibilities.”

Her mother’s voice broke through their playful exchange. “Gather around the bowl, everyone!” she called brightly. “It’s time to play Snapdragon.”

The group moved towards the center of the room, where a large, shallow bowl of raisins soaked in brandy sat atop a low table. A footman stepped forward, lighting the brandy, and blue flames flickered to life, casting ghostly shadows across the room as the candles were snuffed out.

“Who will go first?” her mother asked.

“I will.” Niles stepped forward, his movements confident, and deftly plucked a raisin from the flames before popping it into his mouth. “Delicious,” he declared with a triumphant smile.

Not one to be outdone, Elsbeth reached into the fiery bowl and retrieved two raisins in one quick motion. “I do believe I’m winning,” she said with a playful tilt of her head.

Niles chuckled. “Slow down, my lady. The game has only just begun.”

Eugenie removed her gloves and approached the flames, her expression one of determination. “I beat my brother the last time we played Snapdragon,” she informed them.

Niles smirked. “You won by a single raisin, Eugenie, and only because the bowl was empty.”

“Excuses, as always,” Eugenie retorted, rolling her eyes.

Lady Margaret took a cautious step back from the fiery bowl. “This is very much a young person’s game,” she remarked. “I think I’ll observe from a safe distance.”

“You’re unlikely to catch fire, Lady Margaret,” Elsbeth said, trying to reassure her.

“But not entirely impossible,” the older woman replied with amusement in her eyes.

Charles joined Eugenie at the table, his expression contemplative. “It’s said that whoever retrieves the most snapdragons will meet their true love within the year.”

“That’s an old wives’ tale,” Eugenie dismissed, though her cheeks colored slightly.

As the game continued, laughter filled the room, mingling with the scent of brandy and the crackling of flames.

For the first time in what felt like ages, Elsbeth felt truly at ease.

She couldn’t recall the last time she had laughed so freely or felt so unburdened.

Surrounded by friends and family, she allowed herself to savor the moment.

When Niles plucked the final raisin from the bowl, he held it up. “And with this raisin, I declare myself the victor!” he announced with mock grandeur.

“Barely,” Eugenie muttered.

Elsbeth turned to him. “Well done, my lord. It appears you excel at this game.”

Niles’s grin widened. “I excel at all games I play, my lady.”

Eugenie groaned. “Now you’re just being insufferable, Brother.”

“You are only upset because you lost,” Niles said.

A footman extinguished the flames and carried the bowl away, while the candles were relit, restoring the room to its warm glow.

“Would anyone care for tea?” Elsbeth’s mother offered as she gestured to the tea cart.

Niles placed a hand on his stomach, feigning a grimace. “I fear I’ve eaten far too many snapdragons.”

“Serves you right,” Eugenie quipped.

Her mother turned towards her. “Would you care to pour the tea, Elsbeth?”

Elsbeth nodded and rose, making her way to the tea tray. The fine porcelain gleamed in the soft candlelight as she lifted the pot and began pouring. One by one, she handed out the cups as everyone settled into their seats around the room.

“What a delightful game that was,” her mother declared.

Elsbeth arched an eyebrow. “I couldn’t help but notice that you didn’t play, Mother.”

Her mother waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, I thought it best to step back with Margaret and let you young people enjoy yourselves.”

As Elsbeth’s gaze swept the room, her brow furrowed slightly. “Where is Alfred?” she asked, the question slipping out before she could think better of it.

Her mother seemed unconcerned. “He had a meeting in the village.”

“At this hour?” Elsbeth pressed, her eyes darting to the darkened windows. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the gardens. It was late for business, even for a merchant.