Elowen’s spine stiffened slightly. “He is well enough, thank you. News such as this is always disturbing.” Her tone was polite, though the awareness of his gaze upon her set her nerves on edge.
Victor inclined his head, though his eyes gleamed with calculation. “Naturally. The baron’s health is of great importance. One would not wish to see a family distressed by unforeseen events.”
Her hands tightened briefly in her lap. His phrasing hinted too much at personal knowledge—or interest. “Indeed,” she replied evenly. “But I assure you, our household can manage such disturbances.”
“Of course,” Victor said, his smile unwavering. “Still, it is remarkable, is it not? A man of Lord Redley’s position meeting so sudden an end. It does make one wonder what pressures drive such things.”
He let the words linger, and she sensed the subtle probing beneath his polite remark.
“It is tragic,” she said coolly. “Though I imagine none of us can truly comprehend another’s misfortune until it touches our own.”
Victor’s eyes lingered too long. “Wise as ever, Miss Tremaine. I admire your composure.” His words felt like praise, but there was an undercurrent she couldn’t ignore—an appraisal, as if she were merely a piece on a board rather than a person.
Before she could respond, a servant arrived with a small note that required her attention. “Excuse me a moment,” she said, standing up. Victor’s gaze followed her as she left, and she sensed his barely concealed impatience.
The note proved a simple enquiry from Catherine, yet it delayed her only a minute. As Elowen returned along the hall, she noticed the door of her father’s study ajar—and something in the stillness beyond drew her glance.
Victor stood within.
His hands rested lightly on the lock of her father’s document case. The polish and charm were gone, replaced by intent focus—a predator assessing his prey.
“Elowen,” he said smoothly, turning at the sound of her step, his tone as controlled as ever. “I did not hear you approach.”
“What are you doing here, my lord?” Her voice was calm, though her pulse raced. “This room is private.” She stepped fully into the room, closing the distance between them.
He smiled too easily, too perfectly. “Merely searching for a glove,” he said lightly, his eyes scanning the floor, desk, and shelves as if noting what he hadn’t yet taken in. “I seem to have mislaid it. You know how one never notices the loss of such things until too late.”
Elowen’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You should leave, my lord,” she said firmly. “This is not a place forsearching.”
Victor’s charm wavered slightly. “My dear Miss Tremaine, I assure you, one must always be prepared for small inconveniences. I meant no intrusion.” He stepped back, attempting a polite façade, but the strain behind his civility was unmistakable.
She stood her ground. “Don’t underestimate me. I know your interest in our family isn’t personal. If you seek my father’s papers, you will find no satisfaction.”
It was a shot in the dark, but her words struck Victor visibly. For a brief moment, his mask slipped. His jaw tensed, and his eyes darkened with frustration before he regained his practised smile. “Ah, ever vigilant,” he said. “I suppose a gentleman must respect that.”
A sudden knock at the door startled both of them. William entered, pausing in the doorway as he scanned the room, and Elowen felt relief wash over her.
“Lord Cherrington,” he said evenly, “what brings you to my father’s study unannounced?”
Victor’s charm reasserted itself instantly. “Mr Tremaine, of course. I was merely inquiring after a misplaced item. Miss Tremaine was kind enough to assist me. Nothing more.”
William stood firm, a protective barrier between Victor and Elowen. “I see.” His gaze never left Victor, measuring andassessing. “It’s fortunate I arrived, then, for your visit could have been poorly understood without witness.”
Victor’s smile tightened, his departure hastened by William’s watchful eyes. “Indeed,” he said with feigned lightness, bowing politely. “I shall take my leave. I trust I have not caused any undue concern.”
Elowen exhaled, the tension leaving her in shallow bursts as Victor left. She turned to William, who approached with his face tight with unspoken questions.
“Elowen,” he said quietly, lowering his voice, “are you all right?”
“Yes,” she breathed. “He had no chance to do or say much before you arrived. But I see now that his interest in me was never what it seemed.”
William’s jaw hardened. “You need not explain. Victor’s presence here was no accident. I fear he is probing—perhaps seeking evidence to revive the accusations against Father.”
Elowen’s eyes widened. “You truly believe that?”
“I do,” he said grimly. “And I must speak with His Grace at once. What we have gathered, together with Cherrington’s intrusion, may reveal more than we guessed.” He hesitated. “Be cautious, Elowen. For your own safety. Trust no one who gives you reason to doubt.”
As William left, Elowen felt the oppressive quiet of the house descend again. The chairs, polished tables, and even the curtains seemed to lean in, trapping her thoughts. She walked slowly to the window, the weight of Victor’s deception pressing heavily on her.
