Page 101 of A Shadow Amongst the Roses

Eliza’s stomach tightened. “About whether he deserves them.”

Thomas’s eyes met hers. “He does.”

There was no hesitation. No softening. Just certainty.

Eleanor watched them both with a keen, assessing gaze. “This is about more than old grudges,” she murmured. “Someone is willing to risk lives. That is not a minor spite. That is desperation.”

“Or greed,” Thomas said.

“Or both,” Eliza added.

She moved closer to him without thinking, so they stood almost side by side, both looking at the same sheet of paper. Her shoulder brushed his sleeve. He did not step away.

“What do you see,” she asked quietly.

He looked back down at the letter. “I see a steward who chose his words with care. He confirms Hartleigh’s innocence without naming a suspect. That is deliberate. He trusts us enough to tell the truth, but not the page.”

“So he expects more of us,” Eliza said.

“Yes.” Thomas raised his head. “He is asking us to come and see for ourselves. Without writing it outright.”

Eleanor nodded slowly. “Can Hartleigh spare you both?”

Eliza’s heart gave a sharp jolt. “Both.”

“You are mistress here,” Eleanor said. “If there is a question of your stewardship, your presence at Thornhaven will speak more clearly than a dozen letters. And Mr. Grey knows the beams and supports better than any man alive.” Her mouth curved in the faintest hint of a smile. “And Ashwood is less likely to meddle if you are not under his direct gaze.”

“He will meddle from a distance,” Eliza said.

“Then we must give him too many threads to follow,” Eleanor replied calmly. “Let him pull at one while we reinforce another.”

Thomas was quiet for a moment, considering. “If we both go, he will notice our absence.”

“He already watches you,” Eliza said. “He already suspects. Our staying will not lessen that.”

Their eyes met again.

“Do you wish to go,” Thomas asked her.

It would have been easy to say she needed time. That the journey was too much. That Thornhaven, with its memories of Adrian and the accident, was still too raw.

Instead she heard herself answer with a steadiness that surprised even her.

“Yes. I have avoided Thornhaven long enough.” Saying the words aloud tightened something briefly in her chest, grief and resolve tangled too closely to separate cleanly. “I will not have people believe I neglect them. Not for grief. Not for fear. Not for Ashwood.”

Something like pride flickered in Thomas’s eyes.

“Then we will go,” he said.

He looked back at Eleanor. “Quietly. No announcement. I will speak to the steward about a route that keeps us clear of the main road. It will look like a routine inspection.”

“And Ashwood,” Eleanor asked.

“Will be told,” Eliza said, “that I am spending the day with Clara, working on household accounts and visiting tenants in the closer cottages. Which is not wholly untrue.”

“The best lies never are,” Eleanor said.

The house creaked then, a slow sound from the rafters above, as if marking a decision made.