Page 131 of A Shadow Amongst the Roses

“I will receive him,” she said. “Whatever Adrian left undone, I need to see it finished.”

Thomas did not hesitate. “Then you will not face him alone.”

She met his gaze fully, letting the decision settle, letting him see it.

“No,” she said. “I will not.”

Understanding moved through the hall without a word.

The messenger bowed deeply, relieved to be dismissed. Nathaniel stepped aside to give her space. Eleanor’s hand rested briefly at her arm. Clara’s eyes shone with approval.

Thomas moved a fraction closer.

Not to claim. Not to possess. To stand.

“Eliza,” he said quietly, meant only for her, “we finish what Adrian began. Together.”

She released a breath that felt almost like relief.

“Yes,” she said. “Together.”

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Mr. Frances Hale arrived just past ten o’clock, ushered in by Mr. Carter with unusual urgency. Eliza recognized the banker immediately. The man was broad shouldered, graying at the temples, and carrying the quiet authority of a man who had belonged to Thornhaven long before she had.

What she did not expect was the second man standing beside him, removing his gloves with deliberate precision.

A gentleman of London. A solicitor.

“Lady Eliza,” Hale said, bowing deeply. “Forgive the intrusion, but I believed it necessary to come at once.”

The solicitor offered a polite, professional incline of his head. “Mr. Hale insisted I accompany him personally. Sir George Hughes, madam, of Hughes, Swift, and Lacy, London.”

Thomas, who had been in the entrance hall when they arrived, stepped slightly closer, steadier than the footmen, calmer than the air around them. Not looming. Not interfering. Present.

Eliza gestured toward the morning room. “Please, come in. All of you.”

Within moments, Nathaniel and Eleanor joined them, Clara slipping quietly into a corner with a notebook though no one had asked her to. Tea was brought, doors closed, privacy secured.

Hale produced a leather case, worn at the edges but carefully tied, and set it on the table between them.

“My lady,” he said, “this packet was placed in my keeping shortly before Lord Adrian’s death. He instructed that it was not to be opened, delivered, or discussed unless certain conditions were met.”

Eliza’s breath tightened. “What conditions?”

Hale met her gaze squarely. “That you were no longer in immediate danger, and that you stood free to make your own decisions.”

Sir Hughes stepped forward. “When Mr. Hale informed me of last night’s events, I agreed the time had come. Lord Adrian was very specific that legal counsel must be present when these papers were finally placed in your hands.”

Hale unfastened the case and withdrew a set of folded papers, an envelope sealed in Adrian’s handwriting, and a smaller set of legal instruments tied with red ribbon.

Sir Hughes set aside a small velvet pouch with the remaining papers. “There is one final item,” he said, with quiet formality, “which Lord Adrian instructed should be delivered into your keeping, for you to open in private.”

Eliza’s gaze caught on the envelope first, her name written in Adrian’s familiar hand. Her chest tightened at the sight of it.

Sir Hughes spoke gently. “If I may explain the context before you read it.”

At her nod, he continued: