Page 43 of The Lady Glass
Mr. and Mrs. Haversham sat down at their table, and immediately Rolland was alert again. This man had bank accounts in Prussia and, according to his correspondence that morning, Austria as well. They still needed to ascertain the specific transactions. Had he been accepting bribes and from whom?
The cards were dealt and another game began.
Theresia did not wait long to open the conversation, a task Rolland was grateful to her for. “Do you care for traveling, Mrs. Haversham?”
“Oh yes. We love to travel, particularly to the Continent. Don’t we, Mr. Haversham?” Mr. Haversham barely nodded before his wife jumped back into the conversation, all too happy to be the one speaking. “In fact, we were hoping to sail out a fortnight ago, but Mr. Haversham couldn’t miss out on a house party with the new Duke of Westmorland. Can you blame him?”
“Did you say you missed your sail date a fortnight ago?” The words tumbled from Rolland’s lips before he could check them.
“Oh yes, we were at the London port when the invitation came.”
Not far from where the murder had taken place. Had they been fleeing their crime? Luckily, Cadogen and Lewis had been in London when the news had reached them. Rolland had learned that Cadogen had immediately contacted the Home Office and volunteered to assist in the investigation, while Lewis had waited to tell Rolland the news and escort him to Westmorland. But they had not known about Mr. Haversham’s plans to leave the country. It could be an innocent coincidence, or it could be the clue they’d been waiting for.
“Do you care for traveling, Lady Glass?” Mrs. Haversham asked.
Rolland’s attention was brought back to the conversation. Theresia’s cover story was dependent on her traveling andbeing unknown to Society. He’d relied on Her Grace and Lady Cadogen to rehearse with her the details, but would she remember them so their stories stayed consistent?
“How could I not?” Theresia said, her lashes fluttering against her staid expression. “The world has so much beauty in it.”
“And where is your favorite place to travel to?” Mrs. Haversham asked.
Rolland tightened his grip on his cards, once again nervous for Theresia’s response.
“Bohemia.”
Bohemia? Couldn’t she have picked a well-known destination for travelers? What if someone caught on to her identity? He braced himself for their reaction.
Mrs. Haversham frowned. “Bohemia? Is there much to see there?”
“Nothing like Rome or Paris, but it made an impression on me that I cannot forget.” Theresia’s warm amber eyes cooled and glassed over for a moment.
Mrs. Haversham patted her husband’s shoulder. “May we include Bohemia on our next trip?”
“If you insist.” Mr. Haversham did not look up from his cards, but it was clear he was accustomed to placating his wife.
Rolland stole a glance at Theresia, noting the sudden turn in her demeanor. He wanted to know what about Bohemia called to her. She seemed far away, visiting a place lost to her in her mind. There was a story there, a story that likely involved Mrs. Bedrich and the other musicians who’d played at the ball. It might even include her treasured vase and her drive to get it back. What he did know was that he didn’t like seeing her eyes dull and her spirits low. It ate at him through the duration of the card game. He struggled more than usual to carry on conversation with the Havershams. Theresia did her best, but something was clearly bothering her.
A strategy formed in his mind to cheer her up. It wasn’t as daring as battling a heavily armed frigate in a squall, and if caught, he could do far more harm than good. Still, he wasn’t one to sit back and twirl his thumbs through painstaking conversation either, especially once his mind was set on something. And right now, he needed to cheer up Theresia and solve a murder mystery. Why not accomplish them both at the same time?
When the next rotation was announced, Rolland snagged Theresia’s arm. He leaned closer and whispered, “Play along.” He stumbled forward and slapped his hand on a card table as if the effort kept him from falling to the ground. The commotion drew a few eyes, and the conversation in the room stopped. “Forgive me. I tripped over Lady Glass’s foot. I daresay I stepped on it in the process. My apologies, Lady Glass.” He maneuvered back to her side, taking in her wide eyes. “It must hurt a great deal.” He raised his brow expectantly.
“Oh . . . yes. It, um, hurts. A lot.”
“I’m completely to blame. Please allow me to escort you to your room so you might recover. I wanted to check on my valet, who has come down with a cold, anyway.”
Her Grace hurried over. “If it’s not too terrible, we can prop it up on the sofa. I would hate for you to be forced to retire so early in the evening.”
Theresia glanced at him for help, and he moved his head to the side ever so slightly. It would be her choice, but he was staking his hope on her curiosity.
“Actually, some privacy while I look at it might be for the best.”
Her Grace bobbed her head. “I understand. If there is anything I can do, please send for me.”
Rolland stuck out his arm for her to take before anyone else jumped to express their sympathies. Theresia threaded her arm through his, and they began to cross the room to the door.“Limp,” he whispered.
Immediately she shifted her weight and produced a pronounced limp. It was a bit too exaggerated and nearly made him laugh. It would be harder for her to be suddenly recovered on the morrow if she overdid it.
After they slipped into the corridor and shut the drawing room door behind them, Theresia straightened. “What on earth was that about?”
