Page 35 of A Shadow Amongst the Roses

“I’d like you to see it,” he said. Not as instruction. As an invitation.

“I’ll go,” Eliza said without hesitation.

Nathaniel nodded. “Thomas is already there.”

Of course he was.

She did not alter her answer.

The air outside had shifted overnight, the damp easing into something lighter, though the ground still held the rain. Eliza gathered her cloak and descended the steps at a steady pace, the gravel crunching beneath her boots.

She followed the path along the lower hedge, the house receding behind her. Nathaniel had returned to the steward’s office after pointing her toward the lower field, leaving the inspection itself to her judgment. The land opened gradually, the pasture coming into view as the ground dipped.

She saw Thomas before he saw her.

He was crouched near the edge of the pasture, examining the shallow trench that guided water away from the path. His coat lay folded on the fence, sleeves rolled, his hands dark with earth. He worked with quiet focus, adjusting the channel’s angle and testing the flow with a practiced eye.

Eliza slowed as she approached. Not to watch. To arrive.

“Good morning,” she said.

Thomas looked up at once. Something crossed his expression, brief and contained, followed by readiness as though he had known this moment would come even if he had not anticipated its shape.

“My lady.”

She gestured toward the trench. “They said there was a concern.”

“There is,” he replied, rising to his feet. “Not serious yet. But if the next rain comes hard, it’ll push water toward the path.”

“And from there?”

“Into the pasture,” he said. “Then the lower road.”

Eliza nodded, following his gaze. “So we correct it now.”

“Yes.”

They stood side by side, the land opening before them. The field bore the marks of winter’s retreat. Softened earth. Flattened grasses. The promise of growth not yet realized.

“I can see why they wanted me here,” she said. “It’s easier to understand when you’re standing in it.”

Thomas glanced at her. “You always understand.”

She smiled faintly. “Not always.”

He hesitated, then said, “You chose to come.”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know.”

The words settled between them, not sharp, but decisive.

Thomas reached for the shovel resting against the fence. “If you don’t mind the mud, you can see how the water runs once I clear this.”

“I don’t mind,” she said.