Page 1 of The Lady Glass
Chapter 1
August 1814
London, England
None of the long yearsof instruction at Mrs. Stone’s Distinguished Ladies’ Seminary had taught Theresia Dvorak how to stop a thief. Perhaps running away from the seminary at dawn had not been the wisest course of action. Her gaze begged for someone capable to dart around the corner before the ruffian across the street succeeded in robbing an innocent elderly man.
The unusual August fog made it difficult to see more than a few houses in the quiet London neighborhood, which was probably why the thief had not noticed her yet. His demands for money were growing more persistent. She hadn’t the time to knock on doors and wait for a sleepy butler to awake. Did no one else rise at such a ghastly hour? Apparently only useless, genteel women of age who had been locked away in a seminary by their unloving stepmothers and forced to sneak home undetected did.
She edged closer, despite her abysmal skill set for such a situation. The victim not far in front of her proved an easy target, his gray hair and stooped figure an inevitable product of age. He was no match for the much stronger, lankier thief, who grabbed him by his jacket lapels. “I know ye have somefink of value on ye. Now, give it here before I knock yer teeth out!”
Theresia winced and covered her own teeth with her hand.
“Wait. I d-do have a purse.”
Theresia strained to hear the older man’s response, but she heard enough to know the thief would soon have what he wanted. This was exactly the sort of manipulation that had sent her running from the seminary. Her fear abated, and fatigue and frustration from being bullied and controlled her whole life rose to the surface. She could not bear to see anyone else treated like she had been all these years. She had to dosomething.
Clinging to her violin case as her only source of protection, she yelled in her most authoritative voice, “Stop! Stop this instant!”
It had always worked for Mrs. Stone, and even in Theresia’s short experience with students of her own, but the thief did not so much as look at her. She glared at his back. Perhaps he did not speak English. She translated her command into German, Italian, and French, but to no avail.
Useless lessons.
The older man lifted his jacket and revealed the purse on his belt.
At this point, Mrs. Stone would’ve held her handkerchief to her nose and instructed Theresia to look away, but Theresia wanted to do the opposite. So few people had shown her real kindness since she’d come to England, and she couldnotin good conscience withhold her own. She would no longer abide by her years of training or the stifling rules of propriety but follow her own moral compass. She would be different now—better and happier. Without another thought, she darted toward the men.
To her dismay, the thief reached forward and aggressively wrestled the older man for his coin purse before she could reach them. Right as the thief secured the purse, he stepped back toward her, and she impulsively stuck out her foot. The man stumbled, and Theresia used the butt of her hard violin case to strike the back of his knee to assist him the rest of the way to the ground.
She heaved a surprised breath. Had she just done that? And people said women shouldn’t play the violin. If only the world could witness how terribly useful it was now.
The thief tried to push himself to his feet.
“Pardon me.” She stepped on his hand clutching the purse, digging in the heel of her boot. “How clumsy of me.”
Her bravery and stupidity only stalled the inevitable. The man rolled away from her and jumped to his feet. He would boltnow, and the poor older gentleman beside her would lose all his money. At a loss for any more ideas, she helplessly stood her ground.
“Ye picked the wrong day to get on me bad side,” the thief snarled, elongating his lanky body. He strode toward her, catching her completely off guard.
She’d only tripped him. What was he planning to do to her? She stumbled backward, but her feet would not run as she willed them to. Her bravery was all used up, and fear threatened to explode in her chest.
The thief pulled back his fist to strike her. She squeezed her eyes shut to brace herself. An arm snaked around her waist and tugged her out of the way just in time. She imagined the older gentleman as her rescuer, but these arms were much too strong. She opened her eyes to discover herself protectively against the side of a well-dressed man not ten years her senior. His form was solid, his grip firm, and his chiseled face solemn yet completely confident.
The thief lost his balance when his strike did not make contact with her, but he quickly rallied. He lifted his arm to swing again, but the man holding her beat him to it. One well-placed hit from her rescuer and the thief was flat on his back.
“I’ll have that purse now,” this new man ordered to the nearly unconscious thief.
The purse did not belong to him, either, handsome or not. Theresia had her own money problems, but stealing was wrong. “You cannot have it!” She pushed against the chest of the man she’d naively assumed to be a gentleman.
“Not for myself,” he said, putting his foot on the thief’s jacket, pinning him from turning onto his stomach. While his actions were rough, his voice was soft, like a mother speaking to a frustrated child. “I am no thief.” For the first time, Theresia met her savior’s deep-set eyes, an intensity reflecting in the swirl ofbrown, and her ire left her.
For the second time that morning she lamented on the uselessness of Mrs. Stone’s lessons. Hewasa gentleman, not a thief. Couldn’t she tell the difference? She was no longer a young schoolgirl. She had a profession now—if anyone could call being an imprisoned teacher a profession. Her attempt at an apologetic smile came out with a wince. “Sorry.”
His gaze raked over her face. “Are you hurt?”
Her heart beat forcefully against the wall of her chest, but she’d never heard of anyone dying of fright. “A little shaken, but I—I am well.”
“I commend your instincts.” The deep tones of his voice echoed inside her. “You were brave to try to stop him on your own.” He had not criticized her actions. How strange.
