Page 91 of A Shadow Amongst the Roses

“No, my lady. She has her son with her. He is… distressed.”

Eliza nodded and dismissed him with a quiet thanks.

The blue antechamber lay tucked near the eastern stair, a small, faded room of pale damask and worn velvet. A place chosen when one wished not to be noticed.

Margaret Lane rose the moment Eliza entered, her hands twisting a handkerchief. Edmund stood pressed against her skirts, his grip whiteknuckled.

Eliza closed the door softly. “Mrs. Lane. What troubles you?”

Margaret curtsied, unsteady. “Lady Thornhaven, thank heaven. I did not know where else to go.”

Eliza seated herself and motioned Margaret to do the same. Edmund climbed beside her, his eyes fixed on Eliza with desperate intensity.

Margaret sat only after Eliza did, as though afraid of committing some offense. Edmund climbed into the seat beside her, his eyes fixed on Eliza with desperate hope.

“My lady,” Margaret whispered, “I do not think we are safe here.”

The words settled like cold along Eliza’s spine.

She kept her tone calm. “Has someone threatened you?”

Margaret shook her head. “Not openly. But Edmund, he woke in the night. Crying.”

She looked to her son. “Tell her.”

Edmund was eight, too young for lies shaped by strategy. Old enough to know fear when he heard it.

“I saw him,” Edmund whispered.

Eliza leaned forward slightly. “Saw whom?”

“The man with the shiny buttons.”

Her breath stilled.

Margaret’s voice trembled. “He said the man came to our door last night. Tried the latch. Pushed at it. Edmund heard him whispering.”

Ashwood.

The pattern aligned with chilling clarity. He had tested the cottage. The passages. The West Wing. And now this, pressure applied where fear would keep silence.

Eliza’s voice softened. “Edmund, tell me exactly what he said.”

The boy clutched his mother’s hand. “He said… ‘Stay quiet. And remember who protects you.’”

Eliza went very still. That was not protection. It was a warning, disguised as guardianship. Control framed as care.

Margaret’s handkerchief twisted nearly in two. “We did not wish trouble, my lady. I did not want to come. But Edmund would not invent this.”

“I know,” Eliza said.

Ashwood had been close enough to test the door. Close enough to be heard. Close enough to remind them who held power.

She reached across the small table and took Margaret’s hands.

“You did the right thing coming to me.”

Margaret’s breath broke. “Will he harm us?”