Page 103 of A Shadow Amongst the Roses

“Of course.” Margaret stepped aside.

Edmund sat near the hearth, one leg tucked beneath him, an untouched cup of milk on the small table beside his chair. He looked up when Eliza entered.

He seemed smaller than he had the first time she had seen him. Not in body. In spirit. Children should not learn so early that adults could smile while frightening them.

Eliza crossed to him and crouched beside the chair. “Good morning, Edmund.”

“Good morning, my lady.”

She rested one hand lightly against the arm of the chair rather than touching him. He had endured enough adults deciding what should happen to him.

“I thought you might like to know that Sammy is safe.”

His head came up.

“Truly?”

“Truly. He was frightened and very cold, but he is warm now. He has eaten. No one will harm him.”

Some of the tension left his face.

Margaret pressed a hand to her mouth. “Thank God.”

Eliza looked at her. “He was found at Thomas Grey’s cottage.”

Margaret’s relief vanished. “The cottage?”

“Yes.”

“But Mr. Grey—”

“Had nothing to do with Sammy being there.”

“I did not mean—”

“I know.” Eliza straightened. “Someone wanted us to believe otherwise.”

Margaret sank slowly into the chair opposite her son.

For several seconds the only sound in the room was the low tick of the mantel clock.

Then Edmund said, “It was him.”

Eliza turned.

The boy was staring at the fire.

“What do you mean?”

“The man.”

Margaret’s fingers tightened around the edge of her chair. “Edmund.”

He glanced at her, but whatever he had held inside was stronger than her warning.

“The one outside our door.”

Eliza moved closer. “What about him?”