Page 7 of A Shadow Amongst the Roses

After a moment, Clara continued. “I heard you had visitors yesterday.”

“Mrs. Penrose called.”

Clara brightened. “Verity? She warned me she might appear. She’s terribly inquisitive.”

“She always has been,” Eliza agreed.

Clara’s smile held amusement. “And did she behave?”

“As well as could be expected.”

Clara laughed. “Then she behaved exactly like Verity.”

Dishes were cleared. Fresh tea poured. Clara folded her hands, studying Eliza.

“And what have you been doing since your arrival? I hope the house hasn’t overwhelmed you. Hartleigh can feel… overly large if one hasn’t lived within its rhythm recently.”

“I’ve been reacquainting myself,” Eliza said. “With rooms. With faces.”

Clara nodded. “Good. There are a few matters to settle soon. I thought we might walk the east wing after breakfast. We’re considering repurposing several rooms.”

“Considering,” Eliza repeated softly.

“Yes, of course.” Clara smiled. “But it seemed right to include you.”

Include. A word that could reassure or exclude, depending on the tone. She waited to see which it would become.

Eliza lifted her teacup and let Clara’s implication rest without response.

“And Mrs. Harcourt asked if you might receive her tomorrow,” Clara added. “She’s eager.”

“Tomorrow may not be convenient.”

A flicker of surprise. Quickly hidden. “Naturally. Another day.”

Eleanor looked over. “My dear, you mustn’t feel pressed. You’ve had so much to shoulder already.”

“I am managing,” Eliza said gently.

“I know,” Eleanor replied softly. “That’s why we worry.”

Affection and warning, wrapped in the same breath.

Breakfast concluded, and Eleanor rose with Clara’s support. Their steps drifted naturally toward the east wing.

Eliza followed until she reached the open doorway overlooking the gardens.

A familiar shape moved below, steady and intent among the rose bushes. The sound of shears carried lightly upward, rhythmic and sure.

Thomas.

He didn’t look up. He never did unless necessary.

Once, long ago, she had mistaken that restraint for indifference. Time and distance had taught her otherwise. Thomas noticed everything. He simply chose with great care what he allowed himself to acknowledge.

Her steps slowed.

“Shall we?” Clara asked ahead, halfway down the corridor, before noticing Eliza wasn’t beside her.