Chapter 30

After the events at the ruins, the ladies retired earlier than normal to their chambers to dress for dinner. Theresia made her way to Lady Barrack's room, clutching the book Mr. Stewart had brought her. She had been pleasantly surprised to find it was a book of poetry.

Reaching out, she knocked on Rolland's parents' bedchamber door. She did not think Lord Barrack was with his wife, but the possibility made her nervous. But no matter how unapproachable the man was, Theresia still intended to check on Lady Barrack. Maybe it was because of the way she had tended to Theresia's hair and made her feel valued, or maybe it was a desire to be kind—a feeling Theresia could never suppress long, even with her persistent prejudices against the English. Regardless of the reason, Lady Barrack was suffering, and Theresia wanted to reassure herself that she was well.

"Come in, dear," Lady Barrack said upon opening the door. She waved Theresia inside.

With the door shut behind them, they both settled on the edge of the bed. Just as Theresia feared, Lady Barrack's color had not improved. And how could it? A death threat hung over her husband's head, and today must have emphasized the reality of their situation.

Theresia handed her the book. "In case you cannot sleep, this might help distract you."

"How thoughtful."

"I took the liberty of asking a maid to bring up some lavender tea. I am sorry you had such an awful scare today."

They visited for a few minutes, but Theresia refused to stay long. Lady Barrack needed to rest. When she opened the door to leave, Lord Barrack was speaking to Rolland in the corridor. "If anything, the situation is more dire than before, son. It's imperative you do your part to help unify England. The Western world, and maybe the whole of it, depends on this conference. We must do our part."

Theresia couldn't stay hidden and eavesdropping in the doorframe, so she swung the door wide, calling loudly to Lady Barrack behind her. "Rest well."

Lord Barrack started, and both he and Rolland turned to face her. Lord Barrack spoke first. "Is something amiss with my wife?"

She forced a friendly smile. "I only wanted to see if there was anything I could do for her after her trying morning."

Lord Barrack's brow raised. Was he so wholly surprised she could be nice? It seemed she gave that impression to many. The ladies at the seminary had reacted similarly to her.

Theresia would never admit it out loud, but Lord Barrack was nearly as intimidating as his son had been the night Rolland had pinned her to the ground thinking she was an intruder. The only difference was she knew now that Rolland liked her, whereas with a few exceptions, Lord Barrack had made it a point to ignore her.

"Very good." His voice was as dismissive as his demeanor, so she stepped forward to move around the men.

"Lady Glass?"

She paused, meeting Rolland's eyes. "Yes?"

"Thank you for your kindness." There was warmth there that was absent from his father's gaze.

"You're welcome."

Rolland might care for her now, but would he go against his father? Would he risk the future of England? Tomorrow he would surely forget all about today and what had happened in the tower. And it would be for the best. Wouldn't it?

The next morning Theresia's doubts were chased away when she entered the breakfast room and discovered the only other occupant was Rolland. His smile—close-mouthed but decidedly pleased to see her—filled her with inexpressible comfort.

"Good morning." He was filling his plate at the sideboard and handed her a plate so she could do the same.

"What's this? I don't even have to force a smile out of you? You're choosing to do so of your own accord?"

He stabbed a piece of ham and held it up. "I happen to like the breakfast selection today. Can't a man take pleasure in his food?" He set the ham on her plate. "But you could also argue it's the beautiful company at my side."

When her eyes widened, his smile grew until his cheeks lifted under his eyes. She would never get used how handsome he looked when happy or how his sweet compliments made her heart soar. She had so seldom heard him compliment anyone—he was more an observer than a conversationalist. It made his words now all the more meaningful.

He continued down the sideboard, dishing more for her than for himself. Soon her plate was heavy and full.

"Do you really think I can eat all of this?"

"I hope you do so you have an excuse to stay in here with me for as long as possible."

She had thought him handsome, protective, safe—even a tease when they were alone, but Rolland Reese was also a charmer. What a wonderful surprise. Did he really desire her company as much as he implied? She bit her lip and took a seat at the table.

Rolland set his plate down next to hers and scooted his chair closer. Heavens, what would Mrs. Stone say about this? Theresia was pleased she did not have to find out. She dug into her eggs but quickly found she wanted to talk more than eat. "Did you sleep well?"

Rolland swallowed his own bite and sat back in his chair. "Interesting you should ask."

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged, looking at nothing in particular. "I don't remember the last time I've slept so well."

"What made the difference?" After the heated conversation with his father last night and the scare they'd had at the ruins, she would not have guessed this of him.

His tongue pushed out the side of his cheek. "I have a guess."

"Oh?"

He reached forward and tucked her hair around her ear, sending gooseflesh down her arms. "Maybe I finally have something worth dreaming about."

For a heart-pounding second, she thought she might be in heaven. But eventually the voice of reason in her head grounded her again. She wanted to bask in the warmth of his deep brown eyes and stay there forever, but it wouldn't erase their very real and very troubling circumstances.

"We need to talk, Rolland."

He rested his arm over the back of her seat and leaned closer. "We are talking."

"About us. If there even is an us."

His lips pressed into a thoughtful line, his eyes tracing her face. "I agree. There is much to speak of."

"I can't be Lady Glass forever."

"I know." There was no disappointment, guilt, or frustration in his expression—just understanding. She wondered if he had already thought through all her concerns and was unruffled by them. "Did I give you the impression I wanted that?"

"No, but it would make life easier."

"For whom? You were born Theresia Dvorak, and all your experiences for better and worse are what make you special."

"Then, what next?"

"Let's see how today goes, shall we? No reason to jump to the end when we are only at the beginning."

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.