Page 100 of A Shadow Amongst the Roses

Eliza lifted her gaze. “Hartleigh is cleared. The supplies were delivered. The damage at Thornhaven was deliberate.”

Eleanor absorbed this with a small nod, as though she had expected nothing less.

“And Mr. Grey?” she asked.

“The letter was meant for him as well,” Eliza said, fingers tightening on the page. “He needs to see this.”

As if summoned by the words, the floorboard beyond the sitting-room door gave a soft creak and the familiar sound of a man’s step. The house’s way of announcing him.

Eliza looked toward the door.

“Send him in,” Eleanor said calmly. “We are past the point of pretending he is not at the heart of this.”

Hollis bowed and withdrew.

Eliza’s pulse quickened with something far more dangerous. Relief. Anticipation. The certainty that whatever came next, she would not be facing it alone.

Thomas knocked once on the sitting-room door, then opened it at Eleanor’s quiet, “Come.”

He paused on the threshold, taking in the scene. Eleanor in her chair near the hearth, composed as ever. Eliza standing beside the small breakfast table, a folded letter in her hand, her chocolate untouched.

Her gaze went to him first. Of course it did. It always did now.

“Mr. Grey,” Eleanor said. “We have received word from Thornhaven.”

Thomas closed the door behind him and stepped inside. “My lady. Your Grace.”

His eyes met Eliza’s. The question in them was immediate. Are you all right. What has happened. What does that letter say.

She held the page out to him. “It is addressed to Hartleigh. For Lady Eliza and Mr. Grey.” She nodded toward the seal. “From Thornhaven’s steward.”

That recognition settled between them. Both of their names. Written together in ink. Recognized as the ones who would act.

Thomas took the letter with care, his fingers brushing hers for the briefest moment. A small contact, but it steadied her more than the chocolate ever could.

He read quickly. His eyes were calm at first, then sharpened, then turned thoughtful. When he reached the final line, he read it again, slower, as though testing each word against what he already suspected.

Then he lowered the page.

“So,” he said quietly. “We are cleared.”

Eliza let out a breath she had not known she was holding. “Yes.”

Eleanor folded her hands in her lap. “Say it plainly, Mr. Grey. For all of us.”

Thomas glanced at the dowager duchess, then at Eliza, then back to the letter. When he spoke, his voice was steady.

“The supplies left Hartleigh. They arrived at Thornhaven in full. The beam that failed was tampered with after delivery. Someone wanted that roof to fall. It was not neglect, nor was it chance.” His fingers tightened on the paper. “It was intention.”

Silence settled for a heartbeat.

Outside, a gust of wind pressed lightly against the panes, then faded. The house did not creak in protest this time. It seemed to listen.

“Who would wish to harm Thornhaven,” Eleanor asked, “in a way that could so easily be laid at Hartleigh’s door.”

Her gaze went to Eliza with unspoken meaning. The estate, the title, the tangled succession. All of it still too unsettled to ignore.

“Someone who believes confusion serves them,” Thomas said. “If Thornhaven appeared neglected, if Hartleigh appeared careless. It would raise questions. About your management. About Nathaniel’s right to hold both.”