Page 36 of The Lady Glass
“How about that tour, Lady Glass?” Rolland’s head bent toward her, his low voice sending warmth through every inch of her. “Since Her Grace is not here, we can stick to the common rooms.” How easily he captured her focused attention and set her at ease.
She nodded and pushed back in her seat.
Once they were outside the breakfast room, Rolland pointed back toward the entrance hall. “Let’s start with the library since it is at the front of the house, and then we can move toward the portrait gallery.”
The mention of the library made her forget her unease at breakfast. “I like libraries.”
He looked at her and gave her a half smile followed by a chuckle. “Is that so?”
Maybe not conversing all through breakfast had made her tongue loose, or maybe it was the preview of his smile, but she wanted to tell Rolland something she hadn’t told anyone before. “I was different from the other girls at the seminary. When I arrived, I had a thick accent like Mrs. Bedrich’s and did not understand many of the strict rules of English culture. It turns out people do not always like those who are different. The library became my solace.”
“Is that where you studied languages?” They paused outside the library door.
She slowed. “How did you know?”
“It seems you know English, German, and French, at least. One would have to practice diligently to learn so many.”
He did not miss a thing. “After I mastered English, I wanted to feel comfortable no matter where I went. I know some Italian as well, though I likely read it better than I speak it.”
“A difficult situation often turns into an opportunity to grow. You should feel proud you did not shirk a challenge.”
Parts of her had blossomed, but other parts had turned bitter. She wasn’t ready to divulge all of her story yet, so she deflected. “Hiding in a library is no challenge; it’s a literary paradise.”
With that, Rolland pushed open the door, and Theresia got her first look at Ashbury Court’s library. The fireplace held a small glow of a morning fire that would soon need to be put out when the day warmed, illuminating the wide hearth and the many bricks encasing it. Above it was a ducal portrait standing guard over the rows of books, with his majestic gaze. A large window had the drapes pulled back, casting a soft honey glow over a desk in the corner. Several wooden chairs with cushioned seats crowded near it.
Rolland motioned to the desk. “This library also acts as a second study for the duke.”
“I see. Will he mind that we are here?”
“He is likely overseeing the plans for the outing this morning with Her Grace. It’s all yours for the time being.”
The smell of paper and wood polish filled her senses, while her eyes roved over title after title—some familiar, others new. Books were comforting things, challenging her mind, unwinding her thoughts, and sending her emotions in every direction under the sun. She hadn’t felt any sense of home in a long time, but for a moment in this library, the books made space for her.
“Thank you for bringing me here. It isn’t a house sweep for my vase, but I appreciate it.” She almost asked if they could turn it into one, but when she looked up, she found Rolland staring at her, and she found she could not voice her request. With his back to the window, the dark flecks in his eyes deepened their brown shade, making his gaze appear all the more intent upon her.
He took a step closer. “You’re welcome. We can finish the tour later. Take a book, if you’d like.”
“There is nothing I would like more, but should I not be using this time to”—her eyes went to the open door—“you know.”
“I don’t want to overwhelm you, but I confess I’d hoped you’d learned something useful last night and could tell me on our tour or, at the very least, you could ask me any questions you have.”
She lowered her voice. “I was so busy trying to remember who was who and following the conversation should I be called upon to speak that I couldn’t simply observe. I can tell you this much: their English accents do no more than tell me what part of the country they are from. On first assessment, I would say they are all native speakers.” She hated to disappoint him, but she had to be honest. “I need more time conversing with each of them.”
“We did not invite you for dinner alone for this exact reason. You will be in the same carriage as Miss Yearsley, Mr. Hawke, and myself on our outing to town. We have strategically come up with ways for you to interact with each guest for the next several days.”
That meant she still had time to prepare to speak with Lord Vernon, and she would be ready when the opportunity came.
“Do let me know if it becomes too much,” Rolland added.
Under his initial gruffness, this man was terribly thoughtful. “I don’t shrink easily, Captain. I might be uncomfortable or say the wrong thing, but you can depend on my fortitude.” She fingered the spine of a farmer’s almanac. “There is one thing you can do for me. I would like to know more about the guestsbefore I interact with them. If I can spend less time coming up with conversation and more time listening, I shall have a greater chance at being useful to you.”
Rolland leaned his good shoulder against the shelf so his body faced hers. If anyone walked by, they might think Rolland’s posture one of a man trying to woo a lady. She knew differently. He’d made it all too clear where his plans lay, that he intended to marry whomever his father selected. But that knowledge didn’t keep her heart from racing or her ears from temporarily thrumming from the sound of it.
“I shall do all in my power to help you.” He glanced up at the door, but even though he knew as well she did that anyone could walk by and assume whatever they liked about them, he did not move away. In fact, he leaned all the closer. He studied her for a mere second before whispering, “Miss Yearsley is an heiress and outwardly the catch of the Season, but she has a sordid history. Her fiancé, a powerful politician, was killed the night before their wedding, and she was the primary suspect. She had no alibi, but no one could prove her guilty either.”
When Theresia felt his breath on her forehead, she had to put her hand around her middle to still the fluttering there. “The vase thief I heard was decidedly male.”
“We have no reason to think our traitor has accomplices, but we cannot rule out the possibility. Miss Yearsley was within a few miles of this recent murder, the same as all our suspects.”
