Page 76 of The Lady Glass
Rolland thought her a servant.
He was going to marry Helena.
His mother must hate her now.
She hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye to Tansy, and she hadn’t thanked her properly for everything. And when would she ever have a chance to see her or Andalin again? She knew they’d been too easily won. No friendship for her was meant to last.
It was time, regrets or not, to find out how serious her godfather was about helping her.
“Are you certain you don’t want me to see you inside?” Andalin asked, darting her gaze out the carriage window. Unease pulled her mouth tight.
Theresia shook her head. Her friend’s curiosity was going to kill her, but Theresia couldn’t satisfy it. It was best to make a clean break. “Remember, you promised.”
“I know. And I shan’t tell a soul. But please be careful. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I’d hate to lose one of the few good friends I have.”
“I’ll miss you.” Theresia reached across the seat and hugged her friend. “Tell Tansy goodbye, and thank her for everything.”
A footman helped Theresia from the carriage, and then she ran through the rain to the door of the small cottage before her. She took one last glance up at the cottage, catching the cold sprinkle across her face, before hitting the knocker against the wood. She prayed with every breath that her godfather’s heart was softlike she’d imagined it to be. A nondescript butler answered and invited her in, taking her dripping cloak.
A dog with a yellow-orange coat burst into the vestibule through an open door, trotting directly to her.
Wait! She knew this dog. She hunched down, and Poutník ran to her. She scratched behind her ears, her fur much cleaner than it had been at the camp. “What are you doing here?” Poutník nuzzled against her. “Did you miss me? I missed you.”
“Just this way,” the butler said. He let her into a small drawing room opposite from where the dog had entered the vestibule. She hadn’t much time to observe the tidy, barely furnished drawing room when her godfather entered. She held her breath and dipped a curtsy.
“You came.” Her godfather slapped his leg with his hand, making her jump. He grinned widely, like he’d been waiting years for her to visit him.
“Yes, I came.” Her relief was only partial. There was much to say still.
“And I see you’ve been reunited with Pumpkin.” He motioned to his dog.
“She is yours?”
“I lent her to a friend for a while, but she is mine.”
The name fit the dog even better than Poutník. Knowing he cared for such a sweet, well-mannered dog made Theresia trust him a little more. They stood across from each other, neither knowing how to start.
He broke the silence first. “You must be hungry, no?”
“A little. And homeless, if you must know,” she blurted before she could talk herself out of it. “This is terribly embarrassing, but may I trespass on your kindness until I can secure a coach to the nearest port tomorrow?”
She bit the inside of her cheek, waiting with bated breath for his response. If he’d taken in Pumpkin, could he extend the samekindness to her?
His gray brow furrowed—not exactly the reaction she’d hoped for. “Sit, please. Tell me everything.”
Dare she sit? Shehadasked to stay the night, but it felt too presumptuous. “It’s true that I hardly know you. I shouldn’t have troubled you at all, but I don’t have many friends. Your letter led me to presume—”
“Yes, you should have troubled me. And you know me better than you think.”
“I do?”
“Sit first.”
She obeyed, perching on the edge of the sofa. Pumpkin lay down near her feet while her godfather took a chair across from her, near the fire. Its light flickered across his wrinkled features. “You were but a girl when I knew you, so you likely do not remember your father’s closest friend.”
Her brow pinched tight. What close friend? She traced her memory back all those years and suddenly gasped. “Mr.—Mr. Plasil?” He was a glassblower, too, and a sort of business partner to her father.
He laughed. “Yes.”
