Page 108 of A Shadow Amongst the Roses

Eliza left Eleanor’s rooms and moved through the quiet corridor, guided more by instinct than direction. The way felt unimpeded; doors stood open where they usually closed, and the path to the rear stairwell felt clear.

She found Sammy in the small west chamber where she had settled him the night before. He sat cross-legged on the bed, knees drawn up, eyes fixed on the window.

He looked over when she entered. The tension in his shoulders eased.

“Her Grace would like you in her rooms,” Eliza said gently. “You will be safe there.”

Sammy slid off the bed and came to her without hesitation. She offered her hand, and he took it, small fingers curling trustingly around hers.

Together, they returned to Eleanor’s private suite. The duchess admitted them with a nod, her calm presence anchoring the room.

Margaret shifted to make space beside her. Edmund leaned forward the moment Sammy appeared, relief breaking through his fear.

Eliza released the boy’s hand only when he moved to the hearth, choosing a place near the warmth but within sight of both her and Eleanor.

Eleanor looked at Eliza. “It is time.”

Eliza rose. “You are certain you will be all right here?”

The duchess’s eyes warmed. “My dear, Hartleigh and I have managed worse. The house knows what belongs to it. So do I.”

Hartleigh answered with a faint creak along the ceiling beam, a low sound that might have passed for settling if one did not know better.

Sammy’s head lifted at the noise. Edmund pressed closer to his mother. Margaret glanced up, startled.

Eliza offered a small, reassuring smile. “The house keeps watch,” she said, repeating the words she had once used to soothe Edmund in another room. “Remember?”

He nodded, still uncertain, but less afraid.

Eleanor moved to her writing board again, the matter settled in her mind. “You will send word from Thornhaven if anything there troubles you more than you expect.”

“I will,” Eliza said.

She crossed to the door. At the threshold she paused and looked back once. Margaret, Edmund, and Sammy sat within the circle of warmth cast by the hearth. Eleanor stood as a quiet sentry nearby. The room felt close and guarded, not stifling.

Enclosed. Deliberately held.

Eliza stepped into the corridor, drawing the door closed behind her. The air there felt cooler, the faint scent of stone and old polish a kind of bracing.

Eliza turned toward the stairwell where Thomas would be preparing the horses.

The house felt watchful. Not fearful. Watchful.

And she felt steadier for it. The fear had not vanished, but it no longer moved through her unchecked. It had shape now. Direction.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Thomas waited near the stable archway, his horse already saddled and standing with patient stillness. Morning light caught the faint dampness on the cobblestones, turning them to muted silver. A thin mist curled low against the grass, softening the edges of the yard.

He looked up as Eliza crossed the last few steps toward him. The small shift in his posture was barely perceptible, yet she felt it, as if the air settled more evenly around them.

“I thought you might prefer the chestnut mare,” he said. “She has the easier gait for a long ride.”

Eliza nodded once. “Thank you.”

He steadied the mare with one hand as Eliza placed her foot in the stirrup and mounted. When she settled into the saddle, Thomas checked the strap briefly, more reassurance than necessity, and stepped back.

“Are you warm enough?” he asked.