Lady Margaret spoke up, drawing everyone’s attention. “I was informed that dinner is ready to be served.”

As Elsbeth walked towards the dining room, Eugenie appeared next to her, matching her stride. “What did my brother say to you?”

Elsbeth saw no reason not to tell Eugenie the truth. “He doesn’t want me to spend time with you for fear of my bad influence.”

Eugenie rolled her eyes. “What an idiotic thing to say.”

Elsbeth felt herself relax. “I thought so, too.”

Looping arms with her, Eugenie said, “Regardless of what my brother says, I think we should be friends.”

“Your brother will hate that.”

Eugenie shrugged. “So, do you agree?”

A genuine smile spread across Elsbeth’s face, the first she had worn all evening. “I do.”

“Wonderful!” Eugenie exclaimed. “We shall have such fun together!”

Niles tried to mask his irritation as he sat at the head of the long dining table, the lively hum of conversation swirling around him.

Lady Elsbeth’s laugh rang out as she spoke with Eugenie, and his jaw clenched.

How had it come to this? Hadn’t he made it abundantly clear that Lady Elsbeth should stay away from Eugenie?

And yet, here she was, seated among them as if her family’s reputation weren’t hanging by a thread.

He caught Aunt Margaret’s watchful gaze from across the table. She gave him a knowing look, one that seemed to suggest she had perceived his thoughts. Botheration. The last thing he needed was for his aunt to think he had any interest in Lady Elsbeth. That would be a disaster.

Lady Elsbeth’s laughter again drew his attention, much to his chagrin. Why did her laughter grate on his very last nerve?

Eugenie turned to him, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Why are you stewing, Brother?”

“I am not stewing,” he replied, reaching for his glass.

Aunt Margaret cleared her throat. “Perhaps we should steer the conversation towards something more pleasant than analyzing Niles’s expressions?”

Eugenie dabbed at her lips with her white linen napkin. “Very well. I read the most interesting book recently?—”

Niles groaned inwardly. “Is it suitable for discussion at the dinner table?”

“That depends on who you ask,” Eugenie replied. “It is Common Sense by Thomas Paine?—”

Aunt Margaret interjected swiftly. “Perhaps we should discuss something less controversial, my dear.”

Eugenie merely shrugged. “At least I attempted to introduce an interesting topic.”

Turning her attention towards Lady Elsbeth, Aunt Margaret asked, “Are you still making clothes for the children in workhouses?”

“I am,” Lady Elsbeth confirmed .

Aunt Margaret met Niles’s gaze with a pointed smile. “Lady Elsbeth has started a sewing circle for the orphans in workhouses. A noble endeavor, wouldn’t you say?”

Niles hesitated, his dislike for Lady Elsbeth clashing with his reluctant admiration for her work. “That is commendable,” he muttered, hoping to end his part in the conversation.

“Unfortunately, it is just me now,” Lady Elsbeth shared. “My friends abandoned me after my father’s death.”

The quiet honesty in her words struck him unexpectedly, but he said nothing.

Aunt Margaret continued. “Eugenie and I would love to assist. It sounds like a most worthy cause.”

Lady Elsbeth’s eyes lit up. “I would be delighted.”

Eugenie chimed in, “We could call it the Bluestocking Book Circle, and we could discuss books while we sew.”

“That is a terrible name for a club,” Niles remarked.

“Could you do better?” Eugenie challenged.

Lady Isabella spoke up. “I would like to help, as well.”

“Wonderful,” Lady Elsbeth said. “The more, the merrier.”

Mr. Stockton, seated beside his wife, placed his fork down. “I will procure as much fabric as necessary.”

Lady Isabella cast her husband a loving look. “That is most generous of you.”

“It is the least I can do for such a worthy cause,” Mr. Stockton responded.

Niles noticed a flicker of disdain cross Lady Elsbeth’s face before she quickly composed herself. Interesting. Perhaps she didn’t hold her stepfather in the high regard her mother did. He decided to probe further.

Turning to Mr. Stockton, Niles asked, “Where do you hail from?”

Mr. Stockton smiled pleasantly. “From a coastal village in Sussex.”

Lady Elsbeth furrowed her brow. “Which one? ”

“Worthing,” Mr. Stockton replied, exchanging a glance with Lady Isabella.

“I don’t understand,” Lady Elsbeth said as she addressed her mother. “You both grew up in Worthing?”

Lady Isabella pressed her lips together into a thin line. “We did. Alfred’s father owned the bakery in the village. We knew each other in passing.”

“What does that mean?” Lady Elsbeth pressed.

With a glance around the table, Lady Isabella said, “It might be best if we discuss this later.”

“No,” Lady Elsbeth countered. “I think we should discuss it now.”

Lady Isabella reached for her husband’s hand. “Alfred and I struck up a friendship of sorts when we were younger. But it ended when I went to Town for the Season. I met your father and the rest is history.”

But Elsbeth wasn’t done with her line of questioning. “How exactly did you two reconnect? Or did you two ever stop being friends?”

“I do not know what you are implying—” Lady Isabella started.

Lady Elsbeth tossed her white napkin onto the table. “You know precisely what I am implying. Did you and Alfred stay friends when you were married to Father?”

Lady Isabella sighed. “We exchanged letters occasionally, but it was entirely innocent. I was faithful to your father.”

“And yet, you couldn’t wait to marry Alfred,” Lady Elsbeth said, rising abruptly. “Excuse me for a moment.”

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence as Lady Elsbeth swept out. Niles felt a pang of guilt, knowing his line of questioning had ignited the confrontation.

Lady Isabella’s voice broke the tension. “I apologize for ruining this evening.”

“Nonsense. This evening is still reparable,” Aunt Margaret said, pushing back her chair. “I will go speak to Elsbeth, and we will get this sorted out.”

But Niles stood. “Allow me.”

Eugenie shook her head vehemently. “That is a terrible idea. You two can’t stand each other.”

“I don’t hate her,” he said, though he tripped over his words. He didn’t quite know what he felt for Elsbeth.

With a knowing look, Eugenie asked, “What is it when two people have an immense dislike for one another?”

“I will admit that Lady Elsbeth and I do not see eye to eye, but I think I can get through to her,” he pressed.

Aunt Margaret relented with a small nod. “I will give you five minutes. Try not to make things worse.”

Niles strode from the room, hoping he could undo some of the damage he had caused. Or, at the very least, attempt to understand the young woman who never failed to rattle him.

Once he stepped out into the corridor, he saw Lady Elsbeth sitting on a chair, her shoulders hunched as she wiped away the tears streaming down her face. Her vulnerability struck him like a physical blow. This wasn’t the composed, sharp-tongued woman who had sparred with him earlier.

Softening his voice, he called out, “Lady Elsbeth.”

She glanced up, her tear-filled eyes narrowing with irritation. “What do you want, my lord?” she asked, her words curt.

What did he want?

For a moment, he hesitated, considering his options. He could leave her to her misery and return to the dining room. But his mother had raised him to be a gentleman, and that meant he always helped a lady in distress.

He approached her, his footsteps deliberate, and he came to a stop next to her. “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice low with concern.

She met his gaze, her eyes red-rimmed but defiant. “Why do you care? ”

It was a fair question. Niles wasn’t entirely sure why he had come out here or why he was trying to console a woman who, truthfully, irritated him to no end. But his sense of duty overrode his dislike.

He grabbed a nearby chair and positioned it next to her before sitting down. “I’m sorry,” he said simply.

“For what?” she asked. “You did nothing wrong.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I was the one who started all of this.”

Lady Elsbeth pursed her lips as she turned her gaze forward. “You couldn’t have known about my mother and Alfred’s… past.” Her voice cracked slightly, betraying the hurt she tried to mask. “I can’t believe they didn’t tell me.”

“Would it have made a difference?” Niles asked gently. “You don’t seem to think very highly of your stepfather.”

Elsbeth’s eyes hardened. “My mother married Alfred the very day she came out of mourning,” she stated. “I’m not sure what is worse—how quickly she moved on or the fact that she expects me to be grateful for him.”

“That must have been rather difficult for you.”

“Difficult? My mother believes I should be thankful for a man who has exiled us to the countryside, far from Society. But what is there to be thankful for? No one wants anything to do with us anymore. We are ruined.”

“You are angry,” he observed.

Lady Elsbeth huffed. “How very astute of you, my lord.”

He gave her a small smile, undeterred by her annoyance. “I was angry too when my parents died. For a long time, I let the anger consume me. It drove away every ounce of joy I had left.”

“What changed?”

Niles leaned back slightly, letting out a slow breath. “I realized that I couldn’t go on as I had been. Not for myself and not for Eugenie. I had to find a purpose, something greater than myself. ”

Lady Elsbeth’s eyes drew downcast. “I don’t think I can do that.”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a handkerchief, holding it out to her. “You can. It is not easy, but it is possible.”

She stared at the handkerchief for a moment before taking it with tentative fingers. “Thank you,” she murmured, dabbing at her cheeks. “Perhaps you are not as insufferable as I thought.”

Niles put a finger up to his lips. “Shh. Do not say anything. I have an image that I must maintain.”

To his surprise, a soft laugh escaped her lips, and her face brightened momentarily. “Your secret is safe with me.”

He heard Aunt Margaret’s voice echoing from the doorway. “Elsbeth? Is everything all right?”

Lady Elsbeth glanced at Niles briefly before replying, “It is.”

“Wonderful,” Aunt Margaret said with visible relief. “Would you care to join us for some pudding?”

Niles rose, extending a hand to Lady Elsbeth. She placed her hand in his, allowing him to help her up. Once standing, she withdrew her hand quickly and clasped it with the other in front of her.

As they walked back towards the dining room, Niles said, “I do think it is quite extraordinary of you to make clothes for the orphans.”

She gave a dismissive wave. “It is a small contribution. I only wish I could enact real change.”

“I am backing a bill in Parliament that is proposing major reforms for workhouse conditions,” he informed her.

“It won’t pass. They never do.”

Niles lifted his brow. “That doesn’t mean we stop trying,” he countered. “Real change takes persistence.”

They entered the dining room, where Lady Isabella rose from her seat, her face etched with worry. “Elsbeth… ”

“It is all right, Mother,” Lady Elsbeth interrupted, holding up a hand. “Let’s not discuss it any further.”

Relief washed over Lady Isabella’s features, and she resumed her seat. Niles moved to pull out a chair for Elsbeth, and she murmured, “Thank you.”

“You are welcome,” he replied.

She smiled for the first time at him, and he almost had to look away, as if he had no right to witness something so beautiful.

Shaking off the thought, he returned to his seat, reminding himself that nothing had truly changed. Lady Elsbeth was still the maddening woman who vexed him at every turn.

At least, that is what he told himself.