Page 58 of The Lady Glass
Theresia latched on to that idea. “I am not certain that is so.” This would be the perfect time to bring up the arranged marriage.
“It’s not like you are a criminal or a Roma.”
Theresia nearly choked on the sudden stale air. She knew the general attitude of the upper-class English, but it hurt coming so casually from Lady Barrack.
Lady Barrack was unaware of anything wrong and kept on talking. “You have everything to recommend yourself, so whatever political aspirations my husband is scheming will have to be put to rest. I haven’t disagreed with him in probably a decade, but this time I will put my foot down.”
Would Lady Barrack be so ready to champion Theresia’s secret feelings for her son if she knew the whole truth? It was better not to find out. Theresia had to control her feelings in Rolland’s presence. No more fingers brushing, no more wishing for him to seek her out, and no more getting her hair tangled and forcing the space between them to disappear. She needed to find her vase and leave fate to give Rolland the heroic ending he had planned for.
Chapter 27
Rolland’s father was growing restless.His daily correspondence was not sufficient enough to keep him occupied, and the house party was growing tedious for him. Marcus and Her Grace had recognized the signs before Rolland could express his concern and planned a tour of some nearby ruins. They were no closer to finding their spy at home, so another day out was better than being sequestered inside and hoping for a clue that might never come.
The Penwarick Castle ruins were close to the border of Yorkshire and cast a beautiful but eerie shadow just before the moors. The group gathered outside of the carriages for a brief history lesson from Marcus describing the fifteenth-century fortress and the victories and calamities that had befallen it since.
Rolland listened with half an ear, but his eyes sought out Theresia. Her arm was linked through Lady Cadogen’s and both seemed fascinated by the stories of war and ravage that had left a broken edifice behind. Theresia looked lovely today, with her hair low on her neck and soft tendrils framing her face beneath her new bonnet. Rolland took his fill of her and then forced himself to scan the rest of the group. His gaze landed on his parents, his father’s guard watching discreetly beside a carriage. Every day Rolland had been on British soil again, he’d been grateful that his father still lived. With his distracted mind, he hoped he could keep it that way.
After a few minutes the group collectively moved into what was once the bailey and crossed into the keep. Lady Cadogen rushed inside, her obvious curiosity making him chuckle. Everyone took the stairs to see the view on the roof, but Theresia trailed back, her gaze taking in every detail of the main room.
Without his giving them direction, his feet crossed the distanceto Theresia’s side.
“I was hoping you would come find me,” Theresia said in a near whisper.
Rolland’s chest expanded. “Oh?”
“Yes. You see, while you were planning the logistics of the carriages with His Grace, Lady Cadogen, Her Grace and I have casually been asking all the guests what languages they know. We made it into a sort of game to see who is the most cultured by listing all the places they’ve traveled. I don’t know why we didn’t think of something so simple earlier.”
The news was great, but somehow he wished she’d wanted to speak to him for other reasons. “What were the results?”
“Mr. Haversham and Miss Yearsley are the only ones who do not know French. Mr. Stewart admits to knowing only a basic vocabulary.”
That meant both Lord Vernon and Mr. Hawke were fluent, but that didn’t mean someone hadn’t been lying either. “Interesting.”
“It does disprove your theory about Miss Yearsley and Mr. Hawke. I think she ignores him simply because she cannot tolerate his flirtations.”
“You might be right. It also makes Mr. Haversham’s presence in London a mere coincidence.”
“What about Mr. Stewart?”
“Is his gun still bothering you?”
“Maybe. But, besides that, is our information helpful?”
His mouth pulled up on one side. “You narrowed down our suspects better than my friends and I could, a miracle we are in dire need of.”
“I only wish we would’ve discovered a way to hear Lord Vernon and Mr. Hawke speak the language. Their tones in English are too dissimilar to the thief’s.”
Her eagerness touched him. “It was a clever idea and is anotherstep forward. You did well.”
She smiled, making something shift in his middle. He forced himself to look at the ruins. “What do you think of the castle?”
“All it needs is a chandelier just there.” She pointed to the center of the ceiling.
Rolland scrunched up his face, his eyes going upward. “What about a door and a proper floor first?”
She laughed. “But the open light would capture the crystal in the chandelier just so and make this entire space sparkle.”
She never ceased to amuse him. “Very well. I can see how a sparkling room would be better than warmth come winter.”
