Page 52 of A Shadow Amongst the Roses

Eliza accepted it, her expression composed as she broke the seal. The handwriting was familiar. Careful. Elegant. Confident.

A dinner.

Later in the week.

Local, but well placed.

She read the card once, then again. Not because it required it, but because her attention lingered. Her mouth curving slightly before she thought to stop it.

“What is it?” Clara asked.

“An invitation,” Eliza replied. “From Lady Harcourt.”

Clara’s brows lifted. “She moves quickly.”

“She always has.”

Clara leaned against the doorframe, considering. “You’ll attend.”

“Yes.”

The answer came easily. Too easily to be obligation. Hartleigh did not shrink now that it stood steady again. Nor did Eliza.

“And you’ll bring…” Clara began, then stopped herself, smiling. “Forgive me.”

Eliza laughed, soft and genuine. “You’re forgiven.”

The question remained anyway. Not because it needed answering, but because it had been noticed.

“I’ll make the arrangements,” Clara said.

When she had gone, Eliza stood for a moment longer. The card still in her hand. The invitation itself held no power. It was the timing that unsettled her. Not unpleasantly. Simply enough to be felt.

She folded the invitation carefully and slipped it into her desk drawer.

*

Later that afternoon, she went into the gardens.

Thomas was near the lower beds, intent on the new growth along the path. When he straightened and saw her, something in his face eased. The change was slight, but she felt it all the same. As though her presence had resolved something.

“You said you might come,” he said.

“I did.”

She stopped beside him, close enough to catch the faint scent of earth and crushed green leaves. Her attention followed his to the fragile shoots pressing through the soil.

“They’re early,” she observed.

“Yes,” he said. “But strong.”

The word settled oddly in her chest. She did not comment on it, only smiled.

“I received an invitation today,” she said.

He glanced at her. Not searching. Simply present. “Will you go?”

“Yes.”