Page 39 of A Shadow Amongst the Roses

“No.”

They stood in silence, the orchard stretching around them, bare branches lifting toward a pale sky.

“I didn’t intend—” she began.

Thomas lifted his hand slightly, stopping her. “I know what you intended.”

She swallowed. “And?”

“And it doesn’t matter,” he said. “What matters is what comes next.”

The honesty of it struck her.

“What comes next,” she said slowly, “is that we continue to do our work.”

“Yes.”

“And allow people to think what they will.”

He nodded. “They always do.”

Their gazes held.

“You’re not troubled,” she said.

“I’m cautious,” he replied. “There’s a difference.”

She exhaled. “I won’t pretend ignorance.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

A branch creaked softly in the breeze. Somewhere in the distance, a rook called.

“Eliza,” Thomas said, her name deliberate, unembellished. “I won’t step where you cannot stand.”

Her breath caught.

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” she said.

They did not move closer.

They did not move away.

But something between them settled into a shape that could no longer be dismissed as coincidence.

And Eliza knew, with sudden clarity, that the world had already begun to read them as a question.

One that would not wait forever for an answer.

Chapter Eighteen

The misunderstanding arrived without announcement.

Eliza did not recognize it at once. It took shape gradually, through omission rather than action, through what was not said rather than what was.

She learned of it late in the afternoon, when she received word that Thomas would be riding out the following morning.

The message was delivered by the steward, his tone no different from any other notice that governed the estate’s daily rhythm. Mr. Grey would be overseeing work at the eastern boundary for several days. The path repairs required attention before the next rain.