Page 56 of A Shadow Amongst the Roses

Chapter Twenty-Six

Eliza rose early. Not out of unrest, but out of clarity.

The world looked different after truth was spoken aloud and sealed with a kiss.

She felt changed. Not undone. Not unmoored. Steadier. As if something long present beneath the surface had finally revealed its shape.

Still, she dressed with care. One did not meet what came next unprepared.

Downstairs, the morning room was already warm with light. The fire had been trimmed neatly. The tea service stood arranged with Eleanor’s usual precision. The dowager duchess sat near the hearth, spectacles perched low as she scanned a ledger.

“Good morning, my dear,” Eleanor said without looking up.

Eliza moved closer, quietly grateful for the unchanged tone. “Good morning.”

Eleanor turned a page. “A visitor will be arriving shortly. Mrs. Havisham. You remember her.”

Eliza did. A brisk woman with a fondness for “helpful suggestions” and a remarkable ability to repeat whatever she believed might entertain others. A faint tension gathered behind Eliza’s ribs. Not fear. Something sharper. The instinctive awareness that the peace she had only just begun to trust was already being tested.

“She expressed a wish to call,” Eleanor continued. “I suspected she would.”

“Did she give a reason?”

“Not in so many words,” Eleanor said, which meant she had. She removed her spectacles. “You need not concern yourself. You will handle her perfectly.”

The reassurance was gentle and deliberate. Eleanor was already alert.

Before Eliza could respond, Mr. Greaves appeared in the doorway.

“Mrs. Havisham, Your Grace.”

The visitor entered with fluttering enthusiasm, cheeks bright as though she had hurried despite the short distance from her carriage.

“My dear Duchess! Dear Lady Thornhaven! How good to see you both.” She paused, hands clasped. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

“You are always welcome,” Eleanor said, which translated neatly into permission with limits.

Mrs. Havisham settled herself and began at once. Compliments about the room. The weather. The smoothness of the carriage road. Anything to delay what she had come to say.

Eliza waited. Patient. Still.

Then, as expected, the turn.

“I have heard, only in passing, of course, that things at Hartleigh have been rather demanding for you lately.” Mrs. Havisham tilted her head with practiced sympathy. “We all worry you might be carrying too much alone.”

The words were smooth as silk. The intent was not.

Eliza kept her voice even. “Everything is proceeding as it should.”

“Of course, of course.” Mrs. Havisham’s gloved hand fluttered. “Still, it is said that Mr. Ashwood has been so diligent in stepping in when needed. Such a comfort, I imagine, to have someone guiding matters.”

Behind her, Eliza sensed Eleanor straighten a fraction in her chair.

So, Ashwood had begun to speak.

Eliza met the woman’s curiosity with calm poise. “Mr. Ashwood performs his duties as steward. As expected. I remain fully engaged in the estate’s affairs.”

“Do you?” Mrs. Havisham blinked. “I only ask because I had heard that certain matters were no longer coming directly to you.”