Chapter 14

An entire week passed, and Theresia was on the verge of madness. Johan and his troupe had traveled north for a few more performances, leaving her behind with Mrs. Bedrich. It had bought her a bit more time in Westmorland, but the days before they would be for London were all but expired. Johan was meant to retun that evening, and they would pack up their camp come morning. How could a week have passed without a single word of assurance from Ashbury Court? She had to go back to the house and search for the vase again herself. She had trusted Rolland Reese, and he had failed her.

As if Mrs. Bedrich sensed her intentions, she sat Theresia down on a stool outside the tent, Poutník circling her, and handed Theresia a kolá?e. Theresia took a large bite, hoping to satisfy her emotions along with her stomach, and fed the dog a piece too. But before she could eat any more, a footman with His Grace's livery rode up.

"Stay here." Mrs. Bedrich's voice held no nonsense. She tied her pink scarf over her hair and approached the rider. She returned a moment later with a missive.

"It's for you, my zlato."

Finally! Theresia jumped to her feet and set her half-eaten roll down on the stool for Poutník. "My vase! He must've found it!" She dusted her trembling hands off on her dress and accepted the parchment. Somehow she managed to unfold it. After scanning the contents, she swallowed.

Mrs. Bedrich took a step closer. "What is it? Good news or bad?"

Theresia glanced up at Mrs. Bedrich. "My vase hasn't been found, but the captain would like to discuss his ideas on the matter. He requests I meet him at one o'clock this afternoon at Rose Cottage, the small house before Ashbury Court. He said you may accompany me for propriety's sake."

"Meet him? Then, he will finally confess?" Mrs. Bedrich clapped her hands together. "I knew he had love in his gaze when he looked at you. The fortune-teller saw it too."

Theresia gave a short laugh. "It's not like that between us. We are only friends who are thrown together over and over again in the worst possible circumstances."

"Love has to start somewhere, no?"

Theresia shook her head vigorously. "No. Not here. I am returning to our homeland, remember? It is there I will find my match." The captain might be a good man, but he barely tolerated her. Just like Mrs. Stone. Just like her stepmother. That was not what she wanted for the rest of her life.

Mrs. Bedrich covered Theresia's hands with her own. "No one spends a week talking about a man she does not care for."

"Really, Mrs. Bedrich. I only mentioned him a time or two." Hadn't she?

"A time or two every hour of every day." Mrs. Bedrich put her hand to her heart and attempted to mimic Theresia's voice. "‘How can a man be so strong? Is he always so serious, do you think? I bet he dances like an ox. Would you think his eyes more hazel or brown? Do you think he would be more handsome if he smiled?'"

Theresia grimaced, but her cheeks warmed without her permission. "So he caught my attention. What am I to do? I am camping with the Roma and am far beneath him. Just look at me. I am in need of a good bath and a few less kolá?e rolls."

Mrs. Bedrich shrugged. "Johan returns tomorrow. I cannot leave you alone here, and I doubt you would leave without your vase. This might be your only hope. Besides, you are too fine for this sort of life. You were born for more."

Moisture gathered at the corners of Theresia's eyes. "Differences aside, I will meet him to discuss the particulars. For my vase, of course."

"But you must show him you are interested in him. Do not waste any time being subtle with your feelings."

"Feelings?" Theresia sputtered. "Mrs. Bedrich!"

The woman waved a short, thick finger at Theresia. "At times like these, a man is more important than a vase."

The captain probably had a dozen women fawning over him, and whomever he chose would be most fortunate. But Theresia had thought and dreamed of only one thing all these years—to retrieve her vase and return home. Rolland might be impossibly handsome with an unexplainable penchant for protecting her, but at the end of the day, he owed her no promise. No matter how smoldering his gaze was, she couldn't rely on any Englishman to secure her future.

Despite what Mrs. Bedrich said, Theresia's vase was her only security for her future.

***

Rose Cottage was everything a country cottage should be, with a quaint white fence lining the perimeter, a neat garden, and large willows framing the back. Rolland had never been inside the cottage before, but when he entered, he felt at ease. The tidy sitting room was small but elegant. Beautiful landscaped paintings hung from every wall, and evidence of the owners' needlework were everywhere: the blanket draped over the sewing basket, the lace on the mantel, and the embroidered pillows. The only thing needing to be remedied was the window. He pushed it ajar, and the room filled with fresh air. Now he was content to wait on the sofa in solitude.

Except he couldn't relax. He sat back in the chair by the fireplace and shifted again and again. What was this nervous anticipation he was experiencing? It certainly wasn't because he was to see Theresia again. Not that window-climbing, vase- obsessed woman that the fortune-teller had predicted he'd have a dozen children with.

He scowled and forced himself to think of Marcus. This cottage belonged to the duke and his wife's family. Everyone referred to the residents of Rose Cottage as the ducal aunts, and Rolland felt like he should know them since they were so often talked of. Unfortunately, they had traveled to the seaside, and he would have to make their acquaintance another time, but Marcus had generously opened up their house for Rolland to use for a meeting place with Theresia. If anyone discovered them, it would be quite the scandal.

Then maybe those twelve children would come to fruition when he was forced to marry her to save her reputation. He could think of worse things, oddly enough, but that certainly wouldn't happen. Marcus had directed Rolland to hide his horse some distance away, so who would guess he was here?

It was a risky, crazed idea of his, for certain, but he had to trust that his proposed ruse would save lives. Every day that brought them closer to the Congress of Vienna brought a sense of urgency with it. Some risks had to be taken.

After a few unsettled moments to himself, he heard a soft knock on the door.

She was here.

He stood and shook his hands out at his side. With the servants conveniently gone for the afternoon, he opened the front door himself. He caught sight of Theresia's stunning amber eyes right off, framed perfectly beneath her bonnet. But what caught him off guard was her normal attire—at least, compared to her previous costumes, this one was simple, with straight lines to match her trim figure and the higher waistline to match the style of the day.

Her appearance did the oddest thing to him. He could suddenly see her as part of his world. Appropriate attire was necessary if he were to pull off his mad plan, but seeing her clothed in the dress of his station also led to other thoughts that were perhaps even more mad since they evoked an involuntary tug in his chest. He stumbled over his greeting. "G-good day to you both." Odd. That had never happened before when addressing anyone. He cleared his throat and motioned to Theresia and a curious Mrs. Bedrich. "Please come in." He stepped back against the wall so they could pass by him in the narrow vestibule. "Just to the left is the sitting room."

Theresia set her bonnet on one of the hooks that lined one side of the wall, turning slightly to give him a small, unsure smile. She and Mrs. Bedrich turned the corner, and he followed them, berating himself for his fanciful ideas. Maybe he had spent too much time at sea.

He motioned for them to sit on one of two sofas in the room, and he stole the single chair by the cold fireplace he'd occupied earlier.

"Are you both in good health?" He was still rusty with the niceties of genteel conversation, so this was the best he could do. They both murmured the affirmative, and he could think of nothing else but to jump in to his business. "As you can tell by the lack of servants and the borrowed use of this home, this meeting requires the utmost secrecy. I must apologize that I have not discovered your vase yet, but I have a proposition that might lead us to it and benefit my mission too."

Mrs. Bedrich patted Theresia's lap. "I told you he would propose marriage."

Rolland gaped. "Pardon?"

Theresia coughed. "Mrs. Bedrich, you cannot say such things."

Mrs. Bedrich batted the scold away with her hand. "Why must the English dance around the important topics? Must I find a matchmaker for two grown adults who are capable of speaking for themselves?"

How had the conversation gone so far south? Rolland had to rein it in before he found himself engaged to the wrong woman. "I apologize if I misled anyone, but my proposition is strictly a business arrangement."

"Is that what they call marriage these days?" Mrs. Bedrich scoffed and shook her head.

"This is about my vase, isn't it?" Theresia said quickly.

Rolland latched on to the saving topic and pointed at her. "Yes, it is entirely about the vase."

"That again?" Mrs. Bedrich sighed. "The crystal might put food in your mouth for a few years, but it will not satisfy for long." She folded her short arms over her thick girth, solidifying her opinion.

After a tense pause, Rolland caught Theresia's apologetic gaze and started again. "I have thought on what you said about identifying the voice of the thief. It might be a difficult task, but I cannot rid the possibility from my mind. We ought to try it. And what better way for you to accomplish it than to be a guest at the house party yourself?"

Theresia leaned forward in her seat. "You cannot be serious. You want me to come to a duke's house party?" She scoffed. "I would stand out like a thistle among roses."

She might stand out, but being a thistle was far from why. "Some of the guests have more thorns than blooms, I'm afraid. Seeing you dressed as you are now removes any concern about your ability to appear the part. You have the speech and mannerisms to solidify the idea already."

"Captain, you have been away from Society for too long. Even I, with my little experience, know this dress might be cut similarly to that of your friends at Ashbury Court, but it is outdated and cheaply made. It will not stand the test against the company you keep."

"What if I told you we could take care of your wardrobe?"

"I would say it was the least of our problems. I know I said I was good with tones, but it is a hope more than a guarantee. I cannot promise a victory after a single night. It would be easier if you would rid the house of guests and let me search it from top to bottom."

"Perhaps, if the thief leaves the vase in the house."

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"If it's as valuable as you say, there is a high probability it's already been moved to a safer location."

"Don't say that! It has to be there."

He held up a hand to calm her. "I have not had sufficient opportunity for a thorough search, but I did a quick walk-through of the house and found nothing."

"We must try again and search every nook and cranny."

"Then, think of this as a trade. You come to the house party, and we help each other. We need as many eyes and ears on our side as possible. The safety of Great Britain's foreign council depends on it."

Theresia shook her head. "If the thief learns my real name, he will rid himself of the vase immediately and likely throw off your entire investigation."

Rolland scratched his jaw. "Does he have any means of recognizing you?"

Theresia hesitated. "There is no reason he would've seen me before. I haven't been out in Society or even lived at home, for that matter, in years." Before Rolland could react, she quickly added, "For reasons irrelevant to this conversation. Regardless, my name alone would condemn me."

Rolland wanted to delve into the story behind her name, but he would not be dissuaded from convincing her. "We will give you a false name."

Her eyes went to the ceiling in exasperation. "Like Miss Smith?"

"No. It must hold up to the standard of His Grace's company, and Smith is too common. What about..." He thought for a moment, trying to think of something to adequately capture the anomaly of the woman in front of him. "What about Freiin Glas?"

"Freiin?" Theresia sputtered. "A daughter of a baron sounds presumptuous. Besides, Glas might be a surname in the German states or Austria or Hungary, but it is decidedly not a title."

"No one will question what they don't know for certain. What do you think, Freiin Glas from Vienna?"

"I think it a mouthful for the English and will only draw undue attention to me."

She was right about that. "Many adopt the English form of their title when they move here. We shall keep it Lady Glass, with no added accent. Several upper-class families sent their daughters here to attend seminaries and keep them safe from Napoleon's armies. It's an excuse we can use to explain why your English is so good and why you returned to a familiar place."

Theresia bit her lip, stewing over his words. "The English might like when foreigners want to conform to their ways, but it doesn't mean they will welcome me or deign to confide their secrets to me."

Rolland had the answer for this. "If you are the particular friend of the Duke of Westmorland, then you have nothing to worry about."

A light laugh escaped her throat. "What a thought—me, the particular friend of a duke?" Her disbelieving smile disappeared under a wrinkled nose.

"Should we give you a fake husband and make you a baroness? I just realized the English do not give titles to daughters of barons like the Austrians do, and I do think an air of authority is important."

"Oh no. I wouldn't know the first thing about what it is like to be married to a baron."

"I should say not!" Mrs. Bedrich speared him with her glare.

"Widowed, then?" His brow raised to test her response. A married woman might be easier to protect than a single one, with so many bachelors as guests.

This didn't seem to make her or Mrs. Bedrich any happier. "Do you think I'm more capable of mourning a husband than feigning attachment to a living one? I could never pretend either way. It goes against my principles."

"Principles?" he teased. "I didn't know you were so scrupulous." They shared a knowing look based on their shared memories, and he was gratified to see that he'd almost made her smile.

Mrs. Bedrich tsked her tongue, her disapproval mounting every time he opened his mouth. She had a right to disapprove too. The rough sailor life had worn off on him. It was one matter to banter with Theresia in private, but what sort of gentleman made such disparaging comments while in company?

Theresia patted Mrs. Bedrich's arm again. "It's a great joke and not at all what you think."

"Forgive me," he said quickly. "I never should have been so flippant with my words."

Theresia glowered at him. "Especially to a baroness ."

His brow raised a notch. "Then, do we have a deal? A short marriage followed by a year out of mourning? You wouldn't have to shed a single tear for our guests, or wear black, and if questioned, you can merely say it is too difficult for you to speak of. It's the perfect cover to keep others from prying too much."

Theresia looked from his eager gaze to Mrs. Bedrich's concerned one. "I... I... don't know."

Rolland wasn't impatient with her hesitancy. There was too much at stake to take the decision lightly. "Might I add a caution before you agree?"

"Please," Theresia said. "Whether you want to talk me in or out of this, you'd better speak your piece."

Her frankness was one thing he liked about her, so it was easy to be equally as frank with her. "While you would be doing our country a great service, there are greater risks than your reputation at stake should we fail. One person has already been killed, and more lives have been threatened, including that of my father, who is a member of the foreign council."

"You could've started with that," Mrs. Bedrich mumbled.

"Perhaps I should have." He wasn't trying to frighten Theresia, but it was better for her to go in with both eyes wide open. "We would be indebted to you if you were able to find this man for us. Please, tell me what concerns you have. I will do my best to alleviate them."

Theresia was quiet for a long moment. "I have never had any desire to do England any service, but I cannot condone a lack of respect for human life. I have my reservations, but if my doing this helps us both, then I will consider it. However, if I am to be Lady Glass, I need more of a background than a dead husband should someone ask about my life."

"His Grace and I have taken the liberties of creating all of that for you. If you agree, I will meet you here tomorrow. We will apprise you of the details, arrange for some borrowed gowns to be brought over, and host your grand arrival at dinner."

Theresia looked at Mrs. Bedrich, who was surprisingly silent. "What do you make of this?"

"I think... if you must go, I wish I could come with you."

Rolland interjected. "I had hoped you would act as her chaperone."

Mrs. Bedrich gave Theresia a sorrowful look before facing him. "I must return on the morrow for London with my son. We have a small tenant home there. While I would like to let him live his own life without me, acting as a temporary chaperone can offer me no stability. It would be better for me to leave and find employment so I can care for Theresia when she is finished here."

Leave? Rolland couldn't imagine the older woman abandoning Theresia. "Then, Miss Dvorak had planned to go with you?" But there was no way she would leave without her vase. Not the Theresia he knew.

Mrs. Bedrich lifted her hands in a helpless manner. "I'd hoped you would ask for her hand before then. I did not think I could convince her to leave without her crystal. Can you not marry first and simply present her at the house party as your wife?"

He ignored Theresia's groan, disappointed to hear Mrs. Bedrich would not be joining her. The weight of his plans pushed him deeper into his seat. He was taking full responsibility for a woman unrelated to him. If they were found out... no, that wasn't an option. He could, however, address this romantic fantasy Mrs. Bedrich had once and for all.

"I have no intentions to marry at present, and when I do, it will not be a match of my choosing. My father is already in the process of securing me a wife." He avoided Theresia's eyes. They had no understanding, but the admission still filled him with guilt. He cleared his throat. "So you see, I cannot offer for Miss Dvorak. I also cannot guarantee she'll receive her vase for her endeavors. I can only offer the opportunity and my assistance."

"No wedding at all? Of all the high-handed methods to secure a mistress." Mrs. Bedrich clamored to her feet. "Next you'll be telling me that you've had the vase all along, keeping my dívka tied to you and this place."

Rolland stood too, his hands out to calm her. "You read me wrong, madam. I swear on my position as a gentleman and as an officer of the British navy, I won't do anything to compromise Miss Dvorak. She will be properly chaperoned and in the company of my own mother. My friends are relentless in their intelligence efforts and will be fully on her side. I myself will offer my full protection and see her returned safely to your care in..."

"London," Mrs. Bedrich reminded him with a huff. With her hands on her hips, she faced Theresia. "Well, if I refuse him, will you?"

Theresia shifted in her seat.

"I thought not." Mrs. Bedrich sighed. She tapped her foot for a moment before her shoulders sagged. "My zlato is meant for more than the Roma life. Beyond her Bohemian heritage and impulsive ways is a kindhearted, intelligent woman. Anyone who cannot see her worth is blind."

Rolland believed every word. He glanced at Theresia to see the brave, spirited woman he knew blushing and avoiding his gaze.

"Regardless of my foolish dreams for her, Captain," Mrs. Bedrich continued, "I cannot force a grown woman to obey me. I'll have to hold you to your word, won't I?"

"I won't disappoint you." He'd been trained for this. Nothing would keep him from showing Theresia the same level of protection he would his father. The undefinable tie he felt to her wouldn't let him if he tried. He held Mrs. Bedrich's gaze, but a thought caused his confidence in his promise to suddenly waver. How many people was he capable of protecting while in the same house as a murderer?