Page 10 of The Lady Glass
Chapter 5
Theresia played her violin untilafter the supper dance, her fingers aching and her mind spinning. Thankfully, she’d been familiar with most of the music selected for the night. Had fate decided to play fair for once? She could hardly trust it any more than she could her selfish stepmother. However, there was no denying that the events leading to this moment had been most miraculous.
She forced herself to review the last several days, hoping to relieve the anxiety mounting with each song. She tuned out the room brimming with lavishly dressed people and focused on Johan. His genius had allowed them to get her trunk by Mrs. Bevin. Who knew that breaking into a locked cabinet and hiding the tea leaves could cause such a frantic distraction for a housekeeper?
After leaving Lady Caspar’s home behind, Johan had brought Theresia to his brother-in-law’s small tenant house he lived in along with Johan’s wife and his mother, Mrs. Bedrich. Theresia had thrown herself into Mrs. Bedrich’s familiar arms, a sob catching in her throat at the feeling it brought. Mrs. Bedrich looked and smelled like home.
Even now, thinking of her gave Theresia a moment of reprieve, and her lips curled with a glimmer of happiness. Mrs. Bedrich was short and stout, unlike her taller son, but those small arms had made Theresia feel safe and protected, as had her words: “My precious zlatícko!” Her thick accent had tickled Theresia’s ears, making her laugh. But soon the laugh was replaced with her watery eyes and trembling voice as she explained about the stolen vase and that her only lead pointed to the Duke of Westmorland’s house party.
The thought sent her spiraling back to the present. Her fingers moved effortlessly up and down the neck of her violin, but her nerves were still too fraught; she knew what needed to happennext, but would she be brave enough? She shouldn’t even be here to begin with. She shouldn’t be playing in public. Someone was bound to catch her the moment she left her seat. She closed her eyes, thinking of Mrs. Bedrich again.
“Stop fussing,” Mrs. Bedrich said. “Do you still have your violin?”
Theresia nodded.
“Dust it off, myzlato. You are going to need it.”
No one had called her the mature version of her nickname before, and neither had anyone ever thought it appropriate for Theresia to perform on her violin. Her favorite instrument had transformed into the only means of saving her future. As they’d concocted a plan, relief had filled Theresia’s frenzied mind. With her old family friends as her allies, Theresia’s vase would be far easier to obtain. So she’d put her reputation on the line, dressed like a Roma, and joined the traveling musicians. Giving up was too bleak an alternative.
And now here she was at Ashbury Court, the glamorous home of a duke, playing like her future depended on it—for it did. The evening had waxed long, but there were still hours before it faded into dawn and the ball ended. It was time.
She discreetly laid down her violin, resolution battling her fears. Johan gave her a nod just before she slipped away out a servants’ door. If anyone caught her wandering through the house, her chance to find the vase would be over. Instead of sneaking around the corridors, waiting for someone to cross her path, she planned to reenter through a window, search the room, and leave again without anyone being the wiser.
In theory, it made perfect sense. In reality, she had never done anything remotely like this in her life. She had always been stubborn and opinionated, but she had also been disciplined. Despite the danger of what she was doing and that it went against everything Mrs. Stone had taught her about the properbehavior of a lady, she would persist until the vase was in her hands once more. It was time to be bold, like Papa had been while chasing his dreams.
With this in mind, she hovered for a moment, reassuring herself that no one was aware of her, before finding her way outside. The stars dotted the otherwise inky night, leading her away from the gardens and wandering guests. Keeping to the perimeter of the house and the shadows where she would not be seen, she found the first window on the ground floor. It was on the side of the house closest to the tree line that bordered one side of the property. Unfortunately, this was all the privacy she could be afforded. She prodded the seal of the sash window, but to her dismay, it was locked from the inside. She proceeded to the next window. It, too, was stuck tight.
She squeezed her fists. She would not be thwarted. Not after the years she had endured to get to this point. Several fruitless attempts later, she noticed an open window on the second floor. She was not comfortable with heights, but fate had once again smiled upon her. A lattice partially covered in ivy scaled the wall almost adjacent to the window. If she could pretend to be a Roma to stop a thief, couldn’t she climb this? Letting out a shaky breath, she gripped the woven wooden structure. It was time to prove how brave she truly was.
“For you, Papa.”
***
With the ball still in full force after the supper dance, Rolland made his excuses and bid his friends good night. He was capable of staying up into the early hours of the morning, but his bad shoulder ached from dancing. Had he admitted to his injury, no one would have insisted he participate, but he did not deserve anyone’s pity over a mere wound. Not when so many of his friends lay lifeless at the bottom of the ocean.
When he entered his bedchamber, there was no sign of his valet. He went to his closet, a rather large one for a guest room. He had forgotten to thank Marcus for his generous accommodations. Inside his closet was Granger, fast asleep on the floor, with a thin blanket pulled up to his white, scruffy chin. Rolland hated to disturb the old man. He undid his own cravat and managed all his buttons, but slipping out of his jacket and shirt would be quite a feat. He finally kicked Granger’s foot with the toe of his boot to wake him.
Granger moaned and pulled himself to his feet. “Back already, Cap’n?”
“I stayed as long as I was able.”
With careful fingers, Granger tugged off Rolland’s jacket and other articles until Rolland was bare-chested.
“I’ve got the salve ready so we can change the dressings on your shoulder before you rest.” Granger retreated inside the closet once more and brought out the needed supplies.
Rolland resisted groaning. He would endure the pain quietly. It was his way of remembering those who had gone before him and paying penance for living.
Granger peeled off the bandages, and Rolland was certain his skin came off with them. Gritting his teeth, he collected the bloody bandages on his lap. It was no surprise that the pain was worse than yesterday. The salve eased the burning sensation, but it would not last. It never did. Granger wrapped Rolland’s arm once more with clean strips of linen. Every accidental touch, every pressure applied, stole Rolland’s breath.
“Some of the blisters are finally healing.” Granger’s voice was too cheerful for Rolland’s taste.
“Good.” The word came out as a whisper, and with his good hand, Rolland wiped a bead of perspiration from his brow. He had battled some infection before he’d been sent home, and he knew he was fortunate to be alive. The worst of it should bebehind him now.
After Granger helped him into his shirtsleeves, Rolland desperately needed fresh air. His eyes drifted to the window, but it was closed. He’d opened it before he’d gone down to the ball, hoping the cool night air would help him sleep when he returned. In fact, he’d told Granger specifically to leave it open. Granger never disobeyed orders. “Did a maid come in while I was out?”
“No, sir. I knows I fell asleep, but I wasn’t out long.”
Rolland’s brow lowered. He knew there was a murderer in their midst, but what reason would someone have to sneak into his room? No, a maid had to have come in. He scanned the room to make sure everything else was in order before studying the window again. Tilting his head, he observed the heavy damask drapes. Was one fuller than the other? His hand slid around Granger’s wrist before he could see to any of the buttons on his shirt.
