Page 41 of The Lady Glass

Theresia was thrown behind the side of the bed, away from the broken vase, and cushioned only by Rolland’s protective arms. If she were not so frightened by the person on the other side of the door, and so completely overcome by Rolland’s body hovering over her own, she’d wonder how many times a woman was to be taken down by the man she loved before she should become worried.

“If he or she comes in, hide under the bed,” Rolland whispered. “Whoever it is, I think we can both imagine what they’re capable of.”

“What about you?” There was nowhere in the room capable of hiding his tall form.

Another knock sounded, cutting off any response.

They stilled as they heard the faintest sound of the latch turning. Neither one of them dared breathe.

“Lewis?” The whispered hiss was low enough that it was impossible to identify whether it came from a male or female.

Theresia tightened her grip on Rolland’s sleeve.

The door shut, and an agonizing minute passed without any sound to give away the location of Lewis’s partner. At any moment a candle would be lit, and then who knew what danger would follow?

Another minute passed, possibly less.

Nothing.

“I think whoever it was is gone.” Rolland rolled to the side and helped Theresia sit up. “We need to find them.”

He was already hurling himself over the bed toward the door before she could process what he’d said.

“Wait!”

“Stay here,” he said, but she was already following him to the door.

“I’m not staying here with a dead body!”

He yanked open the door and looked both ways. “No matter how many times you break into Ashbury Court, you always get caught.”

She was already moving toward him. “That’s only a problem if you don’t like catching me.”

The light in the corridor illuminated his exasperated grin. “Stay in my bedchamber, then, and wait for me.”

She shook her head. “I’ll take the secret passage; you take the stairs. Between the two of us, we’ll see anyone who is trying to return to the ballroom.”

With no time to argue, Rolland growled and grabbed her hand. They ran down the empty corridor together until they reached the top of the stairs. She let go of his hand, but Rolland pulled her to him, catching her off guard. He kissed her soundly on the mouth, stealing away her breath, before releasing her just as quickly.

“Stay safe.” He was already descending before she registered to keep going herself.

“Confounded man.” A smile hovered over her lips as she slipped behind the potted tree to open the passage. It took too many seconds to find the secret handhold and open the door. She threw herself inside and was immediately plummeted into darkness. Fear stole over her when she realized she no longer had Rolland’s presence to protect her.

She had to keep going. She forced her foot down the first step, but before her foot could take purchase a second time, she heard something that sent a cold shiver down her spine. Breathing.

Only a fool would leap into a passage without looking first.

And she was the biggest fool of them all.

She pushed herself back up to the top step and fumbled behind her for the latch to open the door. Where was it? Her hand moved frantically against the dusty wall. A small step sounded below her, but between her fear and the echo in the passage, she couldn’t tell how close. Another step, and another, coming closer to her.

She found the latch and pushed it open, throwing herself out with more momentum than she’d thrown herself in with. Stumbling, she barely made it around the tree before she felt a strong hand grip her arm from behind.

Scream. Yell. Anything!

But when Theresia’s lips parted, it was a second too late.

A hand clamped over her mouth at the same time she got her first glimpse of Lewis’s partner.

She never would have guessed him to be Mr. Stewart. She overcame her shock quickly, knowing that escaping now in the corridor would be far easier than once she was locked in a room. She kicked the pot of the tree hard, trying to knock it over. It hit the wall and stopped, the branches silencing any alarm she’d hoped to sound. Throwing her elbows against him, she valiantly attempted to break away, but he was stronger. Just like Lewis.

“Careful, Lady Glass,” Mr. Stewart said into her ear, pulling her deeper into the corridor toward his bedchamber. “This only has to be difficult if you make it that way.”

No! Rolland wouldn’t know where to look for her.

Would Mr. Stewart throw her from the window like he and Mr. Lewis had done to Michael?

She did her best to impede his progress, but he was winning. They were almost to his door. Desperate to retaliate in any way, she managed to open her mouth enough to bite down on Mr. Stewart’s fingers.

He howled and squeezed her cheeks with his hand. The pain had only begun when she heard a voice calling her name. It had to be Rolland! He must be at the bottom of the passage.

Mr. Stewart swore and pushed open his door. He hauled her inside and kicked the door shut behind her. As he turned away, she managed to grab the handle and clung to it with all her might.

“Dratted woman.” Mr. Stewart hit down on her wrist with the hand not still clamped over her mouth, the pain breaking her hold. She stumbled, tripping Mr. Stewart and causing them both to fall to the ground. This time the fall was not so smoothly orchestrated as when Rolland had pulled her down, and their bodies slapped the wood beneath them.

She stretched her foot out, and it hit the door. Brilliant. With all her might she kicked it once. Twice. The third kick was muffled by Mr. Stewart’s leg kicking her own. His hand fell from the corner of her mouth in his attempt to lift her back to her feet. A partial scream formed before being cut off once more.

The door behind them flew open, and Rolland barged in.

Mr. Stewart pulled her into a bear hug. “Some privacy, if you please.”

Rolland didn’t hesitate to try to pull her from his arms. “When was kidnapping ever a form of romance, Mr. Stewart?”

Mr. Stewart released her. He had no weapon and was clearly no match for Rolland’s strength.

Rolland put her behind him and grabbed Mr. Stewart by the cravat. “There is a footman near the bottom of the stairs. Call for help, Theresia.”

She nodded and ran, loath to be away from him again. She was halfway down the stairs, calling to the footman leaning against the bottom rail, when Mr. Plasil burst inside the front door, two more footmen following him.

“You cannot enter without an invitation, sir,” the first footman said.

“I can if my goddaughter is inside.”

“Mr. Plasil!” Theresia cried, hurrying toward him.

“Lady Glass.” The second footman bowed and the first followed. Whether they were surprised by her sudden appearance or not, she did not give them time to react. “I need both of you in Mr. Stewart’s room. Captain Reese requires your immediate assistance.”

She watched them obey before stopping the footman stationed near the bottom of the stairs. “Send for His Grace and Lord Cadogen, but do not alarm the other guests.”

“What has happened?” Mr. Plasil asked, taking her hands. “Your cheeks are red, and the pins are falling from your hair.” Next he saw the bruise already forming on her wrist and gasped.

“I’m well enough.” She was ready to race back upstairs, but suddenly she was overcome with a voice inside telling her to run away while she still could. If she remained, she’d have to face everyone again and endure a second goodbye from Rolland.

She glanced at the door and the freedom it represented. Running was the easier way. She took the smallest step toward the door, and the glass flower of her slipper poked out from under her gown. The slipper Rolland had replaced on her foot. Shame coursed through her. Of course she couldn’t leave him. Not like this. She wouldn’t.

A thousand mortifying moments wouldn’t send her running again. She was Theresia Dvorak, a merchant’s daughter, a Roma, and the goddaughter of Mr. Plasil. And she was strong enough to face her fate.

“Come.” She pulled Mr. Plasil toward the stairs. “You’re practically a spy anyway, with your experience following me, so we might as well finish this together.”