Page 66 of The Lady Glass
He was right. Their kiss had the ability to change the future,but only if they let it. All she’d wanted for years was to return to her homeland and never speak to an Englishman ever again. That she was even considering otherwise because Rolland had showed her a moment of affection should trouble her more than it did. And yet, she wanted him to confuse her—to touch her hair again, to look at her the way he was now, to lean ever closer.
Taking this one day at a time, for now, was just what she needed.
Chapter 31
Rolland stared into the mirrorat the burn on his shoulder. It was healing well, but the skin would never be the same. Would Theresia be repulsed if she saw it? Unless she’d peeked behind the curtains that night, she had seen only his bandages.
Granger applied ointment to the area and covered it with fresh linen strips, effectively cutting off the subject of Rolland’s thoughts.
“Thank you, Granger.”
“Nothin’ to it. ’Night, Cap’n.”
Rolland blew out the last candle and collapsed onto his bed. A yawn escaped, and he burrowed under the covers. It had been a good day. The duchess had set up lawn games, and everyone had thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Lewis had been a bit annoying with his obvious fawning over Miss Yearsley, and Father had been a little grumpy, but no day could be perfect. There had been no thought about war or responsibility or what the future would bring.
Theresia had insisted on feeding crumbs to the birds and even the squirrels, and the animals had flocked to her like she was their princess. He’d even stolen her hand when they’d been the last two to return inside. He closed his eyes and smiled to himself. Sleep was going to come easily tonight. The last thing he thought of before drifting off was Theresia.
A loud noise made him shoot up into sitting position. Was that a gunshot? A scream echoed from somewhere outside his room. Catapulting himself from his bed, he called out to Granger.
The closet door flew open, and Granger stumbled out. “I heard it too.” He tossed Rolland his breeches.
Rolland caught them and shoved his legs into them. “Grab my pistol.”
With haphazard movements, he pushed his nightshirt partiallyinto his breeches. Granger rushed to him, pistol in hand. Rolland accepted it and raced from the room.
His eyes adjusted enough to see the door across the corridor from him wide open.No!His instinct was to dart into his parents’ bedchamber with blind fury, but training told him to do otherwise. He moved silently across the corridor, anxiety for his parents pumping in his veins. Slipping into the room, he kept his back along the wall, his gun at the ready.
This was what they had been trying to avoid. But they had failed.
He sensed movement by the bed, and he pointed the tip of his gun toward it. He knew what he had to do, but identifying the person had to come first.
A strike of flint sparked a small glow into the room, revealing his father’s form. Rolland swallowed, relief soaring through him. He lowered his gun only a fraction and continued to scan the dark room. The candle his father lit revealed his mother sitting up in bed, her face blank with shock. Thankfully, no one else was in the room.
Rolland dropped his gun hand to his side. “Father, I’m here.”
“Rolland!” Father jumped, just seeing Rolland for the first time. He marched toward him, the candlelight dancing in every direction. “That was close. Too close.”
“What happened?” Marcus appeared at the door, short of breath, followed by Granger and Lewis.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Father explained. “If I hadn’t been on my way to the door when it opened, I wouldn’t have surprised the intruder. He grazed me with a shot, but it could’ve been worse.” He held up his arm, and Rolland saw a dark patch soaking through his father’s linen nightshirt.
“Ring for the housekeeper to look at your arm, and I’ll have the house searched.” Marcus darted from the room.
Granger went straight to tend to his father’s wound. Hisexperience from the war made him a better choice than any housekeeper. Lewis lit a few more candles. His mother took a good look at his father’s arm and started to weep. Rolland’s pulse was still pounding recklessly in his veins, and he wanted nothing more than to chase down the culprit responsible. The duchess stopped in long enough to say she would keep the others out of the family wing, before disappearing herself.
Theresia, however, appeared just before the door shut completely. Her robe was tied tight around her waist, and her hair hung over her shoulder in a braid. “Captain?”
She had no idea how relieved he was to see her in one piece. “Everyone is all right,” he said.
She cast one swoop of the room with her eyes and stopped on his mother. “I’ll fetch her something to drink.”
Her thoughtfulness impressed him. “Lewis, do you mind helping Marcus search? I’ll stay here. And, for heaven’s sake, find out where Michael is. He should’ve been standing guard in front of this room, but I haven’t seen any sight of him.”
Lewis gave a salute. He looked tired. They probably all did. But Rolland had never been more grateful to have these men on his side. His parents could’ve been killed tonight, and the reality of the danger became more real than ever.
It was not an hour later when Lewis returned. Theresia had taken over caring for his mother, and Rolland and his father had whispered in the corner one theory after another. Rolland was anxious for answers. He and his father pulled Lewis aside. “What news do you have?”
Lewis scrubbed a hand down his bloodshot eyes and prickled face. “The search of the house has been completed, and the staff is continuing to comb the grounds.”
