Page 99 of A Shadow Amongst the Roses

Chapter Forty-Six

Morning crept into Hartleigh with a soft-gray light that did nothing to chase away the fatigue beneath Eliza’s eyes. She had slept, but only in scattered fragments, snatches of rest between images of brass buttons, creaking doors, and the remembered gentle pressure of Thomas’s forehead against hers.

She could still feel the warmth of him.

It steadied her as she sat at the small breakfast table in Eleanor’s private sitting room, hands wrapped around a cup of chocolate, now lukewarm.

Eleanor watched her over the rim of her own cup, with a thoughtful expression.

“You are quieter than usual,” Eleanor observed.

“I am thinking,” Eliza replied.

“Dangerous habit,” Eleanor said mildly. “It leads to making decisions.”

Eliza’s mouth curved, just barely. “I suspect we are past the point of avoiding those.”

Before Eleanor could answer, a knock sounded at the door.

“Enter,” she called.

Hollis stepped in, hat in hand, dust on his boots from an early ride. He bowed to Eleanor, then to Eliza.

“My lady. Your Grace. The rider from Thornhaven has returned.”

Every nerve in Eliza’s body sharpened.

“Already?” she asked. “That was quicker than expected.”

“Yes, my lady. The roads were clearer than expected.” The steward hesitated, glancing between them. “He brings a report you will wish to hear at once.”

Eleanor set down her cup. “Then you had better give it.”

Hollis stepped forward, producing a folded, mud-spotted letter sealed with the Thornhaven crest. He held it out not to Eleanor, but to Eliza.

Addressed simply:

To Hartleigh. For the attention of Lady Thornhaven and Mr. Grey.

Eliza’s breath caught at the sight of Thomas’s name written there beside her role, bound together in ink as surely as in circumstance.

She broke the seal with care.

The letter was brief, the hand firm and unadorned. It was from Thornhaven’s steward, beyond doubt.

The supplies you dispatched arrived in full.

Repairs began at once.

There was no delay on Hartleigh’s side.

The collapse of the beam was no fault of timber nor of transport.

Someone tampered with the supports after the materials reached us.

Eliza read the lines twice, then lowered the page.

Eleanor’s voice was quiet. “Well?”