Page 87 of A Shadow Amongst the Roses

“You’re safe,” she murmured, moving toward him before she stopped herself. “I was beginning to fear—”

He closed the distance in three long strides.

“Don’t,” he said softly, firmly. “Don’t fear for me.”

Her throat tightened. “How can I not?”

He drew a slow breath, as though the question struck deeper than she intended.

“Eliza,” he said, his voice low and changed. “I promised you I would keep him safe. And I have.”

“And you?” she whispered.

Thomas stilled. Not because he lacked an answer, but because the truth was not one, he was ready to offer.

He looked away briefly. When he faced her again, his eyes had softened, not with fatigue, but with something deeper. More vulnerable.

“Are you well?” he asked instead. “He questioned you.”

“Yes,” she said. “But I managed.”

His jaw clenched. “He didn’t frighten you?”

“No.” But her voice wavered on the word, betraying her despite her best efforts.

He noticed. Of course he noticed.

He stepped closer—so close she could feel the warmth of him, the steadiness, the quiet strength he never flaunted. His voice gentled.

“Eliza.”

She closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, he was close enough that she could see the darkening stubble along his jaw, the storm-tossed curl near his temple, and the weariness he tried to keep hidden.

“Sit,” he said gently, indicating the bench near the saddle racks.

She obeyed. She no longer had the strength to pretend she didn’t need to.

Thomas lowered himself in front of her, one knee brushing the straw-dusted floor.

Not in devotion, but in concern. In attention.

“Tell me what he said,” he murmured.

She told him about the supplies, the questions, the insinuations threaded beneath politeness. He listened without interruption, hands braced on his knees, his focus absolute. When she finished, he exhaled slowly.

“You were extraordinary,” he said.

The word unsettled her more than any threat.

“I misled him,” she whispered.

“You protected a child,” he corrected gently. “And you protected me.”

Her eyes stung. She blinked the heat away.

Thomas’s voice dropped to something almost tender. “Eliza,” his voice. “Why didn’t you send for me when you found the boy?”