Page 14 of A Shadow Amongst the Roses

She watched him then, openly. The line of his shoulders as he bent to the task. The careful economy of his movements. He had changed since she last saw him, not in any way she could name, but in the quiet confidence of long-settled competence. As though years of careful distance had settled into him so completely that Hartleigh itself now carried the shape of it.

“You were sent to the north boundary,” she said.

“Yes.” He tested the edge of the shears with his thumb. “The storm brought down a limb. Took part of the paling with it.”

“Is it repaired?”

“By now.” He glanced up briefly. “The ground will need watching. It softened more than I like.”

“I’m sure you’ll see to it.”

He met her gaze then, something like a smile touching his mouth. “I always do.”

Silence returned, easy and unforced.

Eliza found herself breathing more deeply than she had all morning. She had not realized how much effort she’d been expending until the effort was no longer required.

“You’ve been away longer than usual,” she said.

“Yes.”

No apology followed. No justification.

She accepted it without comment. This, too, was familiar.

Thomas moved to the next bush, kneeling to inspect a cluster of new growth. He adjusted a tie, loosened another. His hands were sure. He did not rush.

“The roses took the cut well,” Eliza observed.

“They did.” He paused, considering. “They’ve been tended properly in my absence.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

“As would I.”

She smiled faintly.

A bird lifted from the hedge nearby, its wings a brief flutter against the quiet. The house loomed beyond the garden, present but distant, its windows reflecting the muted sky. From where they stood, it looked almost benign.

Eliza rose from the wall and stepped closer, stopping at a respectful distance. She had stood beside him many times before, pointing out a branch, asking after a planting, remarking on the season’s progress. There was nothing new in the arrangement.

Only in the awareness.

“You’ve settled back in, then,” she said.

He straightened. “It’s good to be home.”

The word landed gently. Not a claim. A fact.

“Yes,” she agreed. “It is.”

They stood together for a moment, both looking at the same stretch of earth. No one interrupted them. No one summoned her. The house did not intrude.

At last, Thomas reached for the basket. “If you’ll excuse me, my lady. I’ve more to finish before the light goes.”

“Of course.”

He hesitated, just briefly, then added, “It’s good to see you again.”