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Chapter 42

Rolland, surrounded by his friends, finished listening to the limited information Mr. Stewart had for them. Mr. Stewart had aided in the attempt on his father's life at the ruins by leveraging a stone with a long stick, only narrowly missing both of Rolland's parents.

When Rolland had told the others that Theresia had heard Lewis speaking French, Lewis had traced his steps back to the alcove and discovered the hidden passage. He and Stewart had used it to attack Michael.

Who knew what he would have done to Theresia had Rolland not heard the commotion against the door?

Mr. Stewart had no French background or loyalty, but he did know a little French, having studied a few languages with a tutor as a boy. He also claimed a personal grudge against Lord Castlereagh. This was not the first time the esteemed lord had gained an enemy, and Lewis had used that grudge to sway Stewart. Who knew how many others had fallen for Lewis's promise of retribution and money from a glassblower's nonexistent treasure?

Mr. Stewart referenced only one other partner he was certain of. It wasn't Miss Yearsley, like Rolland would have guessed. It was someone Mr. Stewart had never even met. Lewis had referred to him as the investor . He had temporarily backed Lewis financially and had a prominent position of authority in the House of Lords.

It was not enough to go off of, but it was something. Thank heavens Mr. Stewart had not been trained, as some were, to withhold information when caught, even if his information was limited. He'd been told just enough that he wouldn't be a risk to anyone but himself. The good news was that Lewis had concocted the entire plan, and without a leader or a promise of treasure, the mission fell apart. For now, Rolland's father was safe.

Rolland ran a hand through the hair on the side of his head and stole a glance at Theresia. A maid had come in to tend to a few scratches on her arms and had replaced a few of her hairpins. Nothing could be done at the moment for the bruises, most of which were likely hidden under her beautiful gown and the long gloves she now donned.

Still, she stood like a quiet pillar of strength beside Mr. Plasil, speaking quietly to him by the door. It was hard not to overfocus on the older man, who had revealed himself as Theresia's godfather. Rolland wasn't happy that she'd run off to live with a stranger over staying with him, but matters with Mr. Stewart had taken priority over that discussion. Now he couldn't bring himself to wait any longer to settle things between them. "Will you excuse me for a moment?"

Cadogen followed Rolland's eyes toward Theresia. "We can take it from here," he said. "Go and end your misery."

Marcus slapped him on the back. "Tansy won't forgive you if you mess this up. She's quite fond of Lady—er, Miss Dvorak."

Rolland's father might not forgive him if he didn't mess it up.

"Thanks for the encouragement." They'd all lost a friend tonight, but they were pulling for Rolland. They had no idea how grateful he was to them right now. He gave them a nod and slipped past them to Theresia. He stopped in front of her. "Can we take a walk?"

"Is it safe?" Mr. Plasil asked.

"I believe it is now." There was still a ball going on downstairs, and there were guests milling about, but the greatest threat had been eliminated. "We will stay inside if it makes you feel any better, and we won't be long."

"Shall I come along, just to be certain?" Mr. Plasil said. "Nothing good happens after midnight."

Theresia set a hand on Mr. Plasil's arm. "This time nothing good happened before midnight. You needn't worry about a short walk in this full house." She looked up at Rolland with a questioning stare. "That is, if the captain promises to speak of only pleasant things. I'm not certain I am strong enough for anything else."

He knew what she meant, but hoped this was going to be the most pleasant conversation she could imagine. She had nothing to fear. "You have my word."

Together, she and Rolland slipped back into the corridor.

The words that tumbled out were not the ones he'd planned to say. "When you realized it was Lewis, why did you not come find me?" Did she not know that he would do anything to keep her safe?

He watched her visibly swallow. "I was afraid seeing you would... hurt too much."

The hurt he understood all too well, even if he wished she would've responded differently. "How did you know it was him?"

She hugged herself. He would have done the honors for her, sweeping her into his arms, but there was an unexplainable tension still radiating between them. They needed to talk first, even if he wasn't the best at that sort of thing.

Theresia dropped her arms, running her hands down the sides of her beautiful gown, now torn along the bottom hem. "It was Lewis's behavior that first gave him away. You said your friends were relentless in their efforts, but Lewis never seemed to be. He was never wary of anyone. He exuded an unnatural confidence. I thought it his personality at first, but for someone who loved puzzles, he did not seem anxious to solve this one. He was outwardly focused on the upcoming ball, flirting with Miss Yearsley and having a good time."

What she said made sense. Lewis had always desired entertainment, but this had been excessive. Rolland easily recalled the conversation about wanting to play croquet with Miss Yearsley over discussing their next strategy. For a man who had sorted out many difficult cases, Lewis had been more placating than productive for the entire house party. Rolland had chalked it up to Lewis falling in love with Miss Yearsley.

"His was also one of the few bedchambers I hadn't searched," Theresia continued. "I knew he had an express interest in the crystal too. When he pulled me aside at the picnic, he pressed me about the bohemian treasure, though he claimed to be rescuing me from that very conversation."

"I had no idea." Rolland hated to think of all the clues he'd missed.

She gave him a sheepish smile. "He distracted me with a story about how you'd joined the navy, talking about how your devotions would always be there now. I thought he was cautioning me, but he was venting his own frustrations. In truth, I thought nothing of it until I realized his voice was that of the Frenchmen. I played it over and over in my head, and soon his English and French were like a song, the tones a perfect match."

"I knew you could do it. I am glad I trusted my instincts."

Her smile was small. "You had greater faith in me than I did. Will you forgive me for not realizing it sooner... and for not coming to you?"

"It is your forgiveness I want to beg. If I could undo what you've endured this night, I would."

"What we've both endured."

They stared quietly at each other for a moment, the difficulties of the night preying on them as much as the relief from having it all behind them.

"Are you certain neither Mr. Stewart or Lewis hurt you?" he asked, studying her profile. Mr. Stewart would be punished by law, but it would take some time to let go of his anger toward both him and Lewis.

"Just a few bruises and scratches. Nothing that won't fade in a few days."

"If anything bothers you, Granger is quite the nursemaid."

She ducked her head to hide her amusement. "How is your shoulder?"

He shrugged. "I haven't thought much about it, so that has to be a good sign."

"I'll ask Granger later for a full report."

He smiled, not doubting her, and motioned for her to walk with him toward the staircase. When he passed the secret passage, his grin faded. "I'd take you through the passage again to avoid the guests, but I don't think you'd want to relive that experience anytime soon."

"I think facing Lady Caspar would be a far easier feat to endure."

His hand brushed against hers, and the temptation was too strong. He wanted her to know she wasn't going to face anyone alone. Capturing her hand, he slid his fingers through hers, reveling in the rightness of it.

She glanced at him while they walked toward the stairs. "What if someone sees us?"

"Then, I will bid them good night."

"Rolland . . ."

Her voice held censure, but he wasn't letting go and neither was she. He led her down the stairs and slipped into the blessedly empty library. Mr. Hobson had taken up guard by the front door, so Rolland turned to the butler. "Do me a favor and don't let anyone in here for a bit."

Mr. Hobson grinned and nodded.

Rolland shut the door behind them and turned to find a surprised Theresia facing him, with the hearth just behind her.

"Should you be closing that?" she asked.

He laughed. "Isn't a library by the front door far safer than the many bedchambers we've been alone in?"

"Yes, but you never had that look in your eye that you do now." She tucked her hands behind her back and adopted an adorable sheepish expression.

"What sort of look is that?" His feet moved with purpose, closing the gap between them.

"The kind that could devour a woman." She bit back her smile, but it slipped through anyway.

"Just a taste for now." He lowered his head toward her.

She put her hand up, covering his mouth. "You're engaged, Rolland."

He pulled her hand down. "I hope so."

She scowled and pushed against him.

He caught her hands, holding them to his chest. "I hope to be engaged to you."

Her eyes widened. How could she be surprised? He'd kissed her twice now. "I couldn't go through with marrying Miss Shields. I couldn't let them make the announcement, not tonight or ever. My father and Lord Caspar are upset, and I am sorry if I've hurt Miss Shields, but God has other plans for me. He sent a Bohemian violinist through my window and into my heart."

Theresia's rigid posture relaxed. "You tackled me."

He laughed. "I most certainly did." He lifted his hand and tucked back a curl that the maid had not quite secured in her hurry. "Theresia, don't you know how I feel about you?"

Her cheeks darkened, and she shook her head. Her dazzling amber eyes connected with his, and he could see the vulnerability staring back at him. "I know you gave yourself to the war and to the sea. Mr. Lewis told me about how your uncle's death affected you. He said it broke you. It seems like a great deal to ask for even a corner of your heart after all you've endured."

"I'd never had anyone close to me die before. The loss of my uncle was the first of many. So many I cannot count them. I was afraid to attach myself to anyone, and my willpower was only strengthened when I felt my sacrifice justified. I hardened myself in my grief, and I was certain I had conquered every weakness and longing for companionship."

Theresia set her hand on his chest. "So you swore to give yourself to an honorable cause."

"I did." He wasn't good with words, but he wanted her to know exactly how he felt. "I ignored the unsettling feelings that told me such a choice was not meant to be. Until I met you." He encircled her neck with his hand, rubbing the smooth skin with his thumb. "No matter the years I spent fortifying my defenses, one minute in your company and my resolve began to crumble. The risk of losing you is worth any chance I have to be at your side. Every minute, every hour, is better with you in it. I love you, Theresia." Her eyes warmed at his words—words he promised himself he would say every day for the rest of their lives, should she accept him. "I'm offering you all my heart, if you want it."

She bit her lip, and her gaze went to his cravat. His stomach dropped. Was she trying to make him nervous? "I do, desperately, but what about your father's blessing?"

This he could answer easily. "You can be a Roma, a maid, or a spy named Lady Glass, but the title I hope you choose is Mrs. Rolland Reese. I'm not losing you again, and my father will have to accept that."

She grinned. "I like that title best too. My week as a Roma taught me to value home more, and I do not regret my time there. But you can reference Mr. Plasil's good name if my connections will soften your father. And I wasn't treated well at the seminary, but I wasn't a servant, like my stepmother suggested.

He braced his hands on her arms to contain his shock. "Wait. Stepmother?"

"Yes, though neither of us would call each other family any longer. Not after she sold my vase to Mr. Lewis without my permission."

"Let me clarify. Lady Caspar is your stepmother, and she sold your vase?"

"My dowry."

"But why? There was no way she required the money, so what was her motive?"

She shrugged. "She never wanted anything to do with me from the beginning. Why give me what I wanted most when she could punish me for being left in her care?" Her features went slack. "Wait. Mr. Lewis was already on his way to the house when I arrived. Lady Caspar couldn't have known I was coming. She was in a hurry to get rid of my vase for another reason entirely."

Rolland's mind raced. "Could she have any loyalties to France?" Theresia's continued safety depended upon them getting to the bottom of this.

"Not that I know of. She said Lord Caspar hates foreigners, and her position in Society is extremely important to her."

There was a clue here they were missing. A big one.

Big... as in a bigger picture. In his mind Rolland drew a map of the large European powers: Russia, Prussia, Austria, France, and Great Britain. He and his friends had focused on what the other countries might do to prevent Great Britain from their equal say. It seemed strange to think it, but was there a benefit to Great Britain if France joined the negotiations at the conference?

No, not one Rolland could see. But in planning a good strategy, one had to look at every perspective, every possible angle. It had to center on France. As it stood, France was not invited to the conference. Would any power benefit from having them absent?

Rolland rubbed his jaw. Russia? Austria? Prussia... Prussia! They would likely fight the hardest to gain the states closest to France, but in doing so, they'd have too much power. Inviting France would keep Prussia in check and therefore benefit Great Britain. The investor, whoever he was, wanted Great Britain to come out the strongest. And Stewart had said he was a lord.

Rolland sucked air between his teeth. This had been an inside job from start to finish.

Theresia had provided the missing clue. Lady Caspar's motivation for selling the vase had had a different primary motivation than Theresia had thought. Lady Caspar had done it for her new husband. Lord Caspar did not have to like France to want their representatives to come to Vienna. In fact, France would not have to gain anything. Their presence was needed only to act as a buffer against another thriving hungry power.

But England was hungry too. Hungry enough to kill.

"Come. We have a ball to attend."

"What?" Theresia's hand went to her hair. "You want to dance? Now?"

He set his hands on her forearms, careful to avoid the bruise by her wrist. "Lady Caspar was helping her husband. We cannot risk them leaving once they discover Lewis and Mr. Stewart are missing."

"Are you certain they're involved?"

"There's only one way to find out. But I won't pressure you to join me."

"I thank you for the choice, but after what happened upstairs, I would prefer to stay together this time." Her hands went back to her hair. "The tear in my hem is minor enough that it might be hidden with the crush, but is the rest of me passable?"

"You exceed the word. You'll put all the other debutantes to shame." He took her hand and squeezed it. "I won't let anything happen to you this time."

"I know."

He wanted to assure her of so much more, but time was of the essence. "Our previous discussion is temporarily on hold, but we will finish. I promise."

Her smile was all he needed. At the door he instructed Mr. Hobson to hold the room for him.

"What's your plan?" she asked him as they rushed down the corridor to the ballroom.

"We need to lure them away from the others. We can't make a scene. I don't want anything to reflect poorly on Her Grace after all she has sacrificed this last month."

"Let me do it."

"Are you certain?"

"You're not the only one who wants to hurry back to the library." She caught his eye and grinned.

"Don't distract me. You're staying by my side. And no unnecessary risks!" He pulled open the door to the ballroom and led Theresia inside. It wasn't nearly as crowded as the previous ball the month before. In his quick scan he noticed for the first time the beautiful late summer blooms in colorful boughs and garlands accenting the room. With Theresia near him, the room had far more color than before.

"They're along the wall, just there." Theresia nudged him with her arm. "Thank heavens we're not too late."

He searched in the direction of her gaze, through couples gathering for the next set, until he found Lord and Lady Caspar and their daughter conversing with Her Grace and Lady Cadogen. Were Her Grace and Lady Cadogen even now telling them about what had happened upstairs?

"Oh, Captain Reese!"

He glanced over to see a matron clasping her daughter's hand and yanking her toward him. He vaguely remembered meeting her and her unattached daughter at the duke's first ball. Another matron caught his eye and waved.

Time to move. "Let's dance," he said to Theresia.

"Now?"

He pulled her into the line of dancers promenading around the room. He hoped anyone interested in him was taking note of his beautiful partner and his preference for her. He might have returned to the ballroom for other reasons, but he was not against accomplishing two tasks at once.

They had not traveled far when Theresia squeezed his hand. "Rolland, they're leaving."

Lord Caspar and his family had stepped away from Her Grace and Lady Cadogen and were moving in the opposite direction.

"Keep going behind them, and I will try to cut them off by the door," Theresia said.

"Theresia—"

"One of us has to keep them from leaving." She released him before he could stop her and disappeared behind a gentleman. Rolland stepped out of the line of dancers, trusting Theresia's plan, and kept his course to follow Lord Caspar. He prayed Theresia would be well, but he didn't like that he could no longer see her.

No one else could die over this. It was time to end this once and for all.

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