Page 41 of The Lady Glass
“We insist,” Andalin said, cutting her off. “Remember, we love to play dress-up. Just content yourself with thoughts of how well Captain Reese thinks of you ineverycolor while we make the purchases.”
When they exited the store, each of them carried one of Theresia’s packages. She protested against their generosity, but neither of them seemed to hear her. It was decided that they should deposit their goods in the carriage before continuing their shopping, so they made their way toward the conveyance, their purchases in tow. Theresia hoped their next purchases would be for them and not her.
They began the short trek along the storefronts toward the line of black carriages when a moving conveyance passed them, the horses plodding at a walking pace. Theresia glanced up to see an older man’s arm perched on the edge of the carriage window and his aged face framed from the inside.
It couldn’t be! It was hergodfather! The benevolent man who had gifted her the full purse. Well, not her real godfather, but she knew no other name for him.
He met her gaze and grinned knowingly.
Her mouth sputtered when she tried to call out to him, remembering her desire to thank him. He waved like he was aware of her intentions before slapping the side of the carriage and signaling his driver to hasten their speed. The horses broke into a trot, carrying her godfather away.
“What is it?” Andalin asked.
How could she explain? “Nothing. I thought I recognized the man in the carriage is all.”
“Can I take your packages for you, ladies?” His Grace stepped in front of them and took the hatbox from Tansy’s arm, receiving her many thanks.
Theresia mumbled her own gratitude when the duke took her package of ribbons from her, before she took a distracted look down the road again. What was her godfather doing in this small corner of Westmorland? And why had he smiled without an ounce of surprise in his features? Had he passed by on this street at this exact moment with the express purpose to greet her, only to pull away before she could ask a single question?
Her gaze lifted of its own accord and somehow connected with that of Rolland, who now stood in front of their line of carriages beside his parents. He tilted his head in a show of concern, and she quickly smiled to hide her thoughts. His lips followed suit, offering her a closed-lipped grin of his own. A swirl of pleasure coursed through her. It was only her second time seeing such an expression on him.
No one had asked him to worry or send her a look of comfort, but he’d done so once again of his own volition. Tansy and Andalin’s musing came back to her. Was it silly to think his concern romantic? Part of her couldn’t help it. He was still thehero she had first imagined him to be when he’d rescued her from the thief. She sighed inwardly and stared after him. It was a shame that such a fine man had to be an Englishman.
Chapter 20
Rolland went shooting with themen the following morning, with the exception of Cadogen, who had finally left to Lord Vernon’s estate. When they finished their hunt, the correspondence kept him occupied through the afternoon. It was his turn to go through the post. He hated invading others’ privacy, but lives depended upon it. Searching for codes or unique turns of phrases proved tedious and dull, until he read a few lines Mr. Hawke had written to his mother.
You are remiss in mentioning your gratitude for the doubling of your pin money. Did not your son reward you handsomely with his great intelligence and cunning investments? And now he honors you by being the duke’s particular guest. You should be excessively proud of your son instead of whining about your insipid neighbors and their infernal new carriage.
Rolland repeated the phrasecunning investmentsto himself. The pompous man might have revealed an important clue. It sounded like Mr. Hawke had drastically increased his income. He and his friends couldn’t wait for their connections at the Home Office to discover any leads. They really needed Mr. Hawke to show his hand here at Ashbury Court.
When Rolland finished his work, he stretched his arms over his head and immediately thought of Theresia. He’d not seen her all day, and he hoped she had kept herself out of trouble. He half expected someone to report they had found her searching their rooms.
Dinners’ seating had been fairly informal at the house part thus far, so when he saw Theresia enter the drawing room in a pale-yellow muslin that evening, he knew he wanted to be the one to escort her into the dining hall so they might eat by each other. Lord Vernon, Mr. Hawke, and Mr. Stewart clamored aroundher before he could have a chance to fully cross the room. He fought his desire to shove the men aside. Theresia was capable of holding her own. And wasn’t this why she was here? She wasmeantto integrate herself with the guests. How else would she discover their secrets?
He took a step back, swallowing down a bitter taste in his mouth. Was he jealous? He set his jaw. What nonsense. He didn’t have the appetite for jealousy, and there was no reason to give himself a helping of it now, especially when any of the three men she was speaking to could be murderers and Theresia was well aware of that fact.
Dinner ended up being a long affair with him seated next to Miss Haversham, her nasally voice making his ears ring. On the far end of the table from him, Theresia was flanked by Mr. Hawke and Mr. Stewart. Lord Vernon bore his loss with a pouting frown. He’d had to settle for a chair across from Theresia with a whole table between them.
Was every single man in attendance smitten with her? Rolland even noticed Lewis stealing a few glances of his own, although those might have been out of curiosity. He was trying to respect Rolland’s decision for secrecy but in the next breath was annoyingly curious.
Rolland pushed aside his annoyance the best he could, nodding patiently during Miss Haversham’s stories and responding politely to any of her questions. It was an utter relief when the women excused themselves, leaving the men to their port. His nerves were exhausted.
“What’s the latest news of the ambassadors headed to Vienna?” Lord Vernon asked Rolland’s father.
His father stiffened. Out of the corner of his eye, Rolland noticed Mr. Stewart did as well. But Mr. Stewart, if his intentions were pure in joining the representatives, was likely equally anxious about the death of Lord Castlereagh’s secretary.
“All is proceeding as planned,” his father said calmly, his smile forced.
“Do you intend to convince the other powers at large to broaden Great Britain’s reach?” Lord Vernon asked, his stare pointed.
“We are primarily going to restore peace and balance as representatives of the Regent.” The diplomatic answer was not enough for Lord Vernon, who was already in a foul mood.
“What right do we have to tell other countries what to do? Certainly a simple baron like yourself cannot pretend to have influence over a duke, let alone foreign kingdoms.”
“I pretend no such thing, Lord Vernon.”
Lord Vernon leaned over the table. “Then, why go at all? We have problems enough at home, but we’re too worried about our neighbors to see it. The war is over, Lord Barrack! And what are we doing? We’re bothering the Americans and every country we can think of instead of seeing to the poor and the hungry here. It’s time to clean up our mess at home and stay out of everyone else’s business.”
