Page 79 of The Lady Glass
Rolland managed to avoid everyoneall evening, but when it was time to retire, his father followed him into his bedchamber.
“A servant, Rolland? I can’t fathom what you were thinking.”
Rolland sank into the chair at his desk, watching his father pace. What was he to say? He’d believed Theresia had attended the lady’s seminary herself, but could she have been a maid? She might have been Miss Shield’s lady’s maid, considering their close relationship. “A maid, a Roma, what does it matter? No one thought any less of her this morning.”
“ARoma?” His father pulled at his cravat. “Heaven forbid. Which is it?”
“I didn’t demand her life story.” Perhaps he should have. But he could string the clues together in his mind just as easily. She had lost her father, then fallen in Society and been forced to seek a life of servitude. A knot formed in his stomach at the very thought of it. No, he wouldn’t force her to relive her past until she was ready to speak of it. Perhaps, in time, she would trust him with her story.
“What’s going on, Rolland?” his father barked, coming to a stop directly in front of him. “And the whole truth, if you please.”
“Lady Glass is a linguist I hired to help us discover who was after you.”
“You told us that much in the library. But are you in love with this Roma linguist?”
Rolland’s jaw clenched. “That was the furthest thing from my mind when I asked her to become Lady Glass. After seeing so many men die in the war, I thought my heart dead to any such sensibilities.” He had to look away. He didn’t talk about this sort of thing with anyone, let alone his father.
“But you are, aren’t you?”
Rolland balled his fists together but said nothing. This wasworse than losing any of his men. He’d felt empty then. So completely empty. But Theresia had filled him with so much light and hope that he craved more. He needed her like he needed air. He’d soon suffocate without her.
“Rolland, this is no trivial matter.”
He stared his father hard in the eyes, admitting to himself as well as to his father, “Yes, I love her.”
His father made a wheezing sound and coughed into his hand. “I need to take a walk.”
“You can’t. It’s too dangerous.”
“Confounded house party. Very well. Don’t make any decisions tonight. You’ll see things more clearly in the morning.”
If his father was counting on Rolland’s heart changing overnight, he was going to be even more disappointed than he was right now. Rolland himself had preached the same advice to take life one day at a time, and in the past, it had served him well. But he wanted more than just days now; he wanted forever with a woman of his choosing. And forever with Theresia didn’t seem long enough.
***
When Rolland’s father arranged for him to take tea together with Miss Shields in the drawing room the next week, he reluctantly agreed. The others were playing lawn bowls outside, and he hadn’t been exactly available these past days. The least he could do was suppress his worry for Theresia for an hour and do his duty by their guest.
His mother played a soft tune at the piano, allowing them a chaperone and a bit of privacy at the same time. Unfortunately, agreeing to tea meant conversation, and Miss Shields was most reserved. It made him miss Theresia all the more.
“Do you have a favorite pastime?” he asked.
“Needlework.”
One word was not much to go off of. “I see.” He downed his tea like it was a much stronger drink. “Do you prefer the countryside or town?”
“I can be happy anywhere there is good company.”
A good answer. A very good answer. But it was said with so little passion. Theresia would have turned the question on him, and... He shook his head. He was trying to be a gentleman for at least five minutes strung together. Shifting in his seat, he dismissed his good intentions and blurted impatiently the topic they had both avoided for the past week.
“It cannot be easy for you that our fathers have arranged a marriage between us.”
She glanced down at her teacup. She was pretty, to be sure, with light-blonde hair and rosy cheeks. But she was not Theresia.
“It isn’t easy, no.” She lifted one shoulder in a timid shrug. “My stepfather and mother can be...” Her voice trailed off.
“Persuasive?” he offered.
“Intimidating.”
