Lord Bingham's carriage thundered through the morning mist, its wheels striking stones with desperate urgency. Inside, he gripped the leather seat until his knuckles whitened, the Duke's veiled threats echoing in his mind like funeral bells. Each jolt of the carriage matched the pounding of his heart, fear and determination warring within his breast.
The manor materialized through the fog like a ghost, its stone façade offering little comfort to its master. Bingham burst from the carriage before it fully stopped, his boots striking the gravel with purpose. The steward, long accustomed to his master's moods, hurried forward with bowed head.
"Double the guards," Bingham commanded, his voice harsh with barely contained panic. "Post men at every corner of the estate." He paused, eyes scannin
