Page 93 of A Shadow Amongst the Roses
“What’s happened?”
She didn’t trust her voice yet. She reached out and pressed her palm lightly against his sleeve, not clutching, not embracing, just grounding.
Thomas stilled.
“Eliza,” he said again, lower, gentler, “tell me.”
She withdrew her hand, gathering her composure. “Margaret Lane came to me. Edmund too. They’re frightened.”
His expression sharpened. “Frightened of what?”
She shook her head once. “Not what. Who.”
He closed the distance between them in two strides. “Ashwood.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Yes,” she said quietly.
Thomas’s jaw flexed. His hands curled at his sides. “What did he do?”
“He came to their door last night,” she said. “Edmund heard him whispering through the latch.”
Thomas swore under his breath, quietly but with a force that shook her.
“He tried to open it,” she added.
His hands curled tighter, knuckles whitening.
Eliza continued carefully, “Edmund said the man whispered, ‘Stay quiet. And remember who protects you.’”
Thomas exhaled, low and controlled. “That is not protection. That’s a threat.”
“Yes.”
“And he did this,” Thomas murmured, “after planting Sammy in my cottage.”
Eliza nodded.
“And after sabotaging Thornhaven.”
She opened her mouth to argue, she didn’t want to assign every wrong to Ashwood prematurely, but Thomas lifted a hand slightly.
“I don’t mean all of it,” he said. “But enough of it.”
They stood close now. The lantern flickered, casting warm shadows along the line of his jaw. She could see the storm in him, tightly leashed, simmering beneath the surface.
“Thomas,” she whispered, “we cannot assume everything ties to him. Not yet.”
He nodded slowly. “You’re right. But we can assume he’s growing desperate.”
She swallowed. “And dangerous.”
“More dangerous,” Thomas corrected softly. “Because he senses the house is against him.”
She blinked. “Do you believe that?”
“Yes,” he said simply, without hesitation. “Hartleigh has aligned itself with you.”
