Page 78 of A Shadow Amongst the Roses

Rain fell in a fine, steady sheet. The moon remained hidden behind heavy clouds. The world narrowed to the slight figure ahead of him and the thundering question in his chest.

At the edge of the terrace she stopped abruptly, one hand closing around the stone railing to steady herself. Her breath came unevenly. She had not slept. He knew it at once, and the knowledge settled hard.

“You’re freezing,” he said, stepping closer.

“Thomas.” She cut him off, urgency threading her voice. “There is no time. You must listen.”

He straightened. “I am.”

“There’s a child,” she whispered. “A boy.”

The ground titled beneath him. “What boy?”

“Samuel Briggs.”

He went very still. “From Thornhaven?”

She nodded.

Cold spread through him, sharper than rain. “He was there when I left. Near the stables. I saw him just—Eliza, how could he be here?”

“I found him in your cottage.”

The words struck like a blow. Thomas shook his head once, sharply. “No.”

But her expression did not waver.

“He was hurt,” she said quietly. “Frightened. Alone. He told me someone put him there.”

“Who?” His hands fisted.

“The man with the brass buttons.”

Ashwood.

Anger surged, cutting through exhaustion with brutal clarity.

Eliza continued, not allowing him time to speak. “He told Sammy to stay in your cottage. And if anyone asked, he was to say you brought him.”

The shape of it snapped into place.

A trap. Carefully laid. Meant to destroy him.

Thomas steadied himself against the cold stone railing. “Where is the boy now?”

“I hid him,” Eliza said softly.

He focused on her. “Where?”

“Somewhere Ashwood won’t go.”

She nodded toward the chapel steps.

“The crypt,” he said. Realization settled through Thomas like ice.

She nodded. “He’s safe. For now.”

Thomas scrubbed his hand over his face, the exhaustion of the night replaced by adrenaline. “Eliza, you moved him alone? In the dark? In this storm?”