Page 89 of A Shadow Amongst the Roses
“A matter requiring your attention.” He lifted the ledger slightly. “Hartleigh business.”
She extended her hand. “May I?”
He hesitated, only a fraction, before relinquishing the book. She noted the care with which he did so.
Eliza opened it. The ledger contained tenant names, dates, and obligations. Orderly. Expected.
“This appears complete,” she said.
“Does it?” Ashwood stepped closer. “You see, the Thornhaven steward reports missing supplies meant for urgent repairs. Timber. Nails. Pitch. Lantern oil.”
She closed the ledger. “Storms delay deliveries.”
“Or,” he said mildly. “They never left Hartleigh.”
Her gaze met his without flinching. “Are you accusing someone, Mr. Ashwood?”
“Yes,” he said at once. “I am asking where you were last night.”
“In my rooms.”
“All night?”
“Yes.”
“Alone?”
Eliza did not answer immediately.
She regarded him with a calm that was no longer polite.
“You forget yourself, Mr. Ashwood,” she said. “I am a widow, not a suspect.”
A pause. Just long enough.
“Hartleigh has endured many under-stewards,” she added mildly. “It will endure the next one just as well.”
Silence stretched. Ashwood moved closer, watching her face as though waiting for a misstep.
“You seem tired today,” he observed.
“So do you.”
A floorboard snapped sharply beneath his foot—a loud, protesting sound.
He startled. “This house—”
“Objects to unnecessary pressure,” Eliza said smoothly. “As do I.”
Ashwood’s breath caught. “If you know anything about the missing boy—”
“I know,” she interrupted quietly, “that you are more interested in his absence than his safety.”
A flicker crossed his face. Gone as quickly as it came.
“I am preventing harm,” he insisted.
“To whom?” she asked.
