Page 17 of The Lady Glass
He waved his hand and shook his head.
“Then, you are dismissing me?”
He crossed the room to her and whispered, “Someone was passing in the corridor.”
“Ah,” she said, understanding brightening the blue in her eyes. “Your parents?”
“I cannot say, but I would prefer not to be caught in here with you.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “I do not appreciate the emphasis on that last word. There is nothing wrong with me. If you had to get caught with someone, you should celebrate that it is me and not another.”
“Why would I have to get caught with someone at all?” This woman came up with the most outlandish things. “Just tell me what to look for so you can leave.”
“I am still deciding whether I trust you enough.”
He sighed. “Then, you can think it over at home. When you decide whether I am trustworthy, you can send me a missive.”
“A single woman does not correspond with a gentleman she is not engaged to.”
“A comparatively lesser discretion than this, wouldn’t you say? Pen your name as Mr. Sneak, and I will know exactly who it is from.” The violinist snorted at this, but he ignored it. “Besides,there is a maid in this house who probably wants her dress back. Come. Let’s get you out of here.”
She squinted her eyes and assessed him. “Very well. I will think it over and do as you have said.”
She marched to the door with her shoulders back and head held high. With such pomp, she’d not make it far. He hurried to stop her. “Wait.”
Her nose wrinkled. “You aren’t going to make me go through the window in full daylight, are you? My ankle is much improved, but it would not be very gentlemanly of you. And don’t even think of suggesting one of us sleep in the closet. One night together was enough for me.”
Ifshehad to be stuck in a room with someone, she should be grateful it was him. Good grief. The words sounded as ridiculous in his head as they had when she had said them aloud. “I merely stopped you to say that if you intend to take on the role of a maid, you must act like one.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t smile—it’s distracting. Keep your head down, and don’t make eye contact with anyone. A dress cannot hide everything.” She was far too confident to be a maid. The best help were subtle and discreet. There was nothing for it; she would stand out like a glaring lantern on a moonless night, distracting their guests and the male staff from their duties. “I won’t suggest the servants’ stairs because you might have higher chances of being caught in that direction.” He reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. “Take this and pretend you are polishing the banister as you make your way down to the front door.” He glanced around for anything else that could be of use, and his eyes went to the cold fireplace. “One last thing.”
He strode to the hearth and dipped his finger into a pile of ash. His stomach pitched with a flash of memory from the night of the fire. His shoulder burned in response. He could’ve died thatnight. The folly of one careless sailor had led to a preventable yet horrific accident. His marred body now resembled the cinders of his war-ravaged heart.
Out of the corner of his eye, the woman shifted, and his dark thoughts dispersed. He straightened and moved toward her.
“What are you doing?” Theresia eyed the ash on his finger and took an involuntary step back.
“It will be harder for you to go unnoticed midmorning than when you left at dawn.” He came closer. “Hold still.” His finger met her smooth cheek and left behind a gray streak. She inhaled sharply, her expressive eyes wary. “I’m trying my best to protect you,” he murmured, not sure how else to reassure her. He was used to giving commands, not coddling. He reached out again to smudge the streak and dirty up her too-perfect complexion, his finger lingering a mite longer than necessary. Even covered in ash, she would still catch the attention of any footman with eyes.
She scowled at him when he finished. “Have you impersonated a maid before?”
He frowned. “Certainly not.”
“I do wonder. You seem to know the part well.” She accepted his handkerchief and pulled the door open.
When she disappeared through it, he could finally fully exhale. He glanced at his hand, his fingertips tingling from touching her skin. Five minutes together, and his emotions had ranged from worried to confused to annoyed to effectively flustered. Dealing with this woman was completely beyond his expertise. How did any man have the energy for this?
And how was it that after such memorable encounters, he still did not know her name?
Sighing, he waited a full minute before following her into the corridor. He might not want her in his bedchamber, but he did want to make certain she escaped without being caught.
Chapter 9
The fabric walls of thetent rippled gently in the cool morning air, barely filtering a mumble of conversation from her itinerant neighbors. Theresia tried to ignore the uneasy feeling in her middle while she tidied the small space around her, but her circumstances made it difficult to do so. The stories of the old country and the company of her childhood friends had been comforting these past days, but the Roma camp was unpredictable, with the leering eyes of men, impoverished families, and strange customs. Not to mention the eerie tales of murdering dukes and ghosts haunting the area. Needless to say, she was anxious to return to Ashbury Court to finish her quest. Time was not on her side either. She had to find her vase before Johan and his family returned to London.
At least she had a few more days until the inevitable. Johan had secured another job for his traveling troupe, and they had plans to perform for a dinner party. Mrs. Bedrich would not allow Theresia to join, reminding her that she was not a Roma or a traveling performer but a refined lady. The lines between the two seemed terribly blurred these days. Her eye caught on her violin case. If her determination failed her and her reputation with it, would she be forced to live by her instrument for good?
