Page 51 of The Lady Glass
His steps were not quite muffled, but he made good time descending. She saw a little flash of light when he exited and then started focusing on her counting. She didn’t wait the sixty seconds he’d said to before letting herself out. She wanted—no needed—to find the thief.
She peered past the potted tree Rolland had told her would be there but saw nothing beyond the alcove. She waited a moment before letting herself out the rest of the way and shut the jib door quickly behind her, amazed by how perfectly disguised it was. With no time to think on it longer, she slipped around the tree to peek into the corridor. Empty. She darted to the right, her hasty steps turning into a jog.
She was on the second floor not many doors from her own bedchamber and moving toward the staircase. Where was he? At the top of the steps, she froze in dismay.
Rolland was at the bottom.
She shook her head, and he did the same. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. They’d been so close. A few moments later he was by her side. “To the third floor.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her down a short central corridor to a third staircase she had not even been up before. If she had been thinking clearly, she would have turned and fled up that staircase sooner.
When they reached the landing, they met up with their tour group. Rolland instantly released her grip and stepped away. So the chase was over? They had lost? Or was the culprit someone among the tour? Everyone was accounted for. Even Mr. Stewart, who had joined the group at some point. That meant there wasno one to eliminate and no one to pin the crime on.
Tansy met her gaze and gave her a curious look. Theresia’s dismay was likely written all over her face. Forcing a smile, she tried to focus on His Grace, though his words only buzzed in her head. Beside her, Rolland stepped closer once more, his hands clasped behind his back. When his arm touched her own, she was filled with a strange wave of comfort.
They had missed their man this time, but they wouldn’t fail again.
Rolland had promised to help her, and right now that was everything to her.
Chapter 24
The morning dawned and thesky was clear. All the guests were excited about the prospect of venturing outside for a picnic. To Rolland, relaxing after what had happened the day before seemed impossible. It was all right by him that he was sent to ride the grounds to make certain it was not too muddy. There hadn’t been any opportunity to discuss the coded note he’d sent to his friends the night before, alerting them that Lady Glass had heard someone speak French from a distance but had been unable to identify the man. Rolland had a spy to catch and more than just his parents to protect, but apparently a picnic would come first.
With Ashbury Court as large as it was, the guests opted to stay close and lunch by a small stream not half a mile from the house. Her Grace instructed that large blankets to be spread across a grassy area near the dowager house. Mr. Stewart and Lord Vernon seemed to be in a contest as to who would sit by Theresia. Not wanting to appear too eager, Rolland silently bowed out of the competition. He took a seat beside his parents, situating himself so he could see everyone. Servants carried platters of sandwiches and fruit to serve them, and everyone ate heartily.
When the meal waned, a few of the party stood to walk the grounds, including his parents, the Havershams, and the duke and duchess. He noted that Michael, whom Rolland had come to respect as a truly remarkable footman, stepped forward to trail his father. They were fortunate that Marcus employed such a loyal man. Before Rolland could stand to stretch his own legs, the conversation next to him stole his attention.
“I wonder why I’ve never heard your title before, Lady Glass,” Lord Vernon said, his voice oddly patronizing. “It’s unique enough that I would’ve remembered it. Did your late husband never sit in parliament?”
Rolland shifted subtly to see Theresia’s reaction around Lord Vernon’s tall torso.
Her shoulder came up. “He did not care for politics.”
“Some do not, I suppose.” Mr. Stewart leaned back against the trunk of an oak, unaware of the way Lord Vernon’s fists tightened when he stole into the conversation. “You know, your title reminds me of a fable.”
“Oh?”
“You’ve likely already heard the tales circulated around the glassblowers, especially since you are from the Austrian Empire.”
Theresia’s body went rigid. “I’m afraid not.”
“The glassblowers were a secretive group—still are, so I hear—and not just to protect their trade either.”
“What do you mean?” She leaned forward, eyes round with equal curiosity and no doubt suspicion.
Rolland could do nothing but will her not to give herself away.
Mr. Stewart continued. “They say they received both knowledge and treasure from the gods and swore to protect them both from anyone else.”
“Surely notrealtreasure,” Theresia argued.
“That’s not what I’ve heard.” Lewis stepped up to the edge of the blanket nearest Theresia, his arms folded. “The master craftsmen protect a horde of wealth to this day, passing it down through the generations.”
Theresia’s hand balled the fabric of her gown in her lap, barely hiding how flustered she was becoming. “I’ve never heard such wild tales. Surely you cannot believe there is an actual treasure. These men labor diligently to create such beautiful glass, and still they struggle to support their families. Only a few extremely talented ones get commissions to decorate the royal houses.”
“The stories are older than you or me,” Lewis explained. “It’s hard to say what is true and what isn’t.”
Miss Yearsley and Lady Cadogen came up beside Lewis. Miss Yearsley’s eyes widened. “You’re not talking about the glassblower code, are you? I’ve heard very little about it, but I confess I find it fascinating. I just adore their crystal. I even had a pair of earrings specially made.”
Rolland’s eyes flew to Theresia’s the same time hers met his. Before he could think about her revelation, Miss Yearsley spoke again. “Does anyone know more about this code or treasure?” She glanced around, her gaze hungry.
