The Fleeing Heiress: A funny flight into love. (10 page)

All at once she became aware of Lord Cardiff’s entrance
and she blushed, suspecting that he had overheard her indel
icate speech. Her suspicion was proven correct.

“Bravo, Miss Stafford. I was just saying to your brother
Philip that we would appear eminently more respectable
with a bit of baggage. An abduction or a kidnapping is
deuced uncomfortable without a change of clothing and
one’s nightgear and a few personal items,” said Cardiff in a cheerful fashion.

“Just so, my lord,” said Thea, recovering her counte
nance quickly. It was just like his lordship to turn it all aside
as a commonplace and thus spare her from further embar
rassment.

Cardiff turned from her to direct a query to Philip. Rais
ing his brows, he asked, “Have you yet engaged the services
of a decent chambermaid for Miss Stafford?”

“I was just about to attend to the matter,” said Philip, very
much on his dignity. He disliked that it was Lord Cardiff
who should recall such a necessity when it should have been
his own responsibility. He turned to his brother. “And you,
Thomas, must go to the shops before they are closed and
buy such things as Thea and his lordship might require.”

Thomas frowned, and Thea said quickly, reassuringly, “I
will make out a list.” There was a battered desk standing
against one wall and she sat down at it, opening drawers in
search of ink and paper. She gave a small cry of triumph and
brought out the necessary supplies. Trimming the pen
quickly, she said, “My lord, what do you wish for me to put
down?”

Cardiff swiftly reeled off a small number of require
ments, not having to give it particular thought. As a soldier, he had too often been in unexpectedly straightened circum
stances to be in much doubt of what was most necessary.

Shaving soap and razor, a clean cravat and shirt, hairbrush
and toothpowder were the most pressing items.

“I should like a few things, too, Thea,” said Thomas, hav
ing decided from Lord Cardiff’s example what he needed.

Thea nodded, writing swiftly. “Very well.”

While the list was lengthening, Philip withdrew from the
parlor, ostensibly to engage a chambermaid. After supplying
Miss Stafford with the few items he considered essential, Cardiff was left to his own devices. A swift survey of his
surroundings informed him of the nicety of the furnishings,
and a glance through the window overlooking the busy inn
yard confirmed his assumption that the hostel enjoyed
greater commerce than the one where he had first become
embroiled in Miss Stafford’s troubled affairs. As a last re
sort, he thought, he could call upon the services of whatever
bystanders there might be in the inn if he needed assistance
in ridding himself of the Stafford brothers. However, his in
nate dislike of attracting unwelcome attention persuaded
him to try his original tack first.

And that reflection brought him round to what it was he
intended to do later that evening.

Cardiff was fully aware that his future would be radically
altered once he had spoken with Miss Stafford that
evening. He casually turned around in order to observe the
lady while she was busy at her task and oblivious to him.
With cool detachment, he began to inspect his prospective bride. He had not really had an opportunity to do so before.
Miss Stafford was of medium height, a brunette of a
pleasing honey brown shade. Her eyes were so dark a blue
as to appear black when she was frightened or angry. Cardiff
was compelled to compare Miss Stafford’s eyes to a starlit,
midnight blue sky. The flight of fancy mildly surprised him by its existence.

Slightly disconcerted, he forced himself to continue with
his unemotional catalog of the lady’s assets. Miss Stafford’s figure was neat and trim and at all times she moved gracefully. Cardiff did not think he had ever seen Miss Stafford look at a disadvantage, except perhaps when her nose had
been reddened from crying. She was not a beauty in the
truest sense of the word, but lovely enough to command attention wherever she might find herself. She was not displeasing to him, in any event. Thea Stafford would even
compare favorably with Miss Cummings, whom he had thought was a lovely lady.

Quite aside from Miss Stafford’s obvious physical attrib
utes, Cardiff had already seen her calibre when afraid and
tired and angered. She had borne up amazingly well under
the harrowing experiences which she had undergone over
the past day and a half, he reflected. Her entire world had been shattered and yet, with the notable exception of that
bout of tears, which had been most pardonable under the ex
tremity of her circumstances, she had not succumbed to her emotions. Another woman might have gone into flat hyster
ics or fallen prey to self-pity.

He had already learned to admire Miss Stafford’s spirit. Her character and innate breeding had also earned his re
spect. Miss Stafford was an exceptional young woman and
one who would in all probability make him an admirable
wife. She possessed the stuff that a soldier’s wife must have,
especially one like himself, who closely served the com
mander of the British forces. The social demands of his position would in all probability not faze her. As for the rest of it, if he chanced to be appointed to a particularly interesting task, he trusted that she would bear up well under the un
certainty of his absences in the service of his country.

Of course, he must marry her. There was really no choice left to him, in all honor. Oddly enough, it did not seem to be
as much of a sacrifice as he assumed it would be. At all
events, he would not be able to reconcile it with his con
science if he left the lady to her fate. In the eyes of the
world, Miss Stafford was ruined. She would never be able to
live down the damage done to her reputation. The fact that
her brothers had been with her at all times would not be
enough to save her. In fact, the gossipmongers would dis
believe it, and the Staffords were not agile enough to spin an
acceptable tale.

Cardiff smiled in self-mockery. He and Miss Stafford had
been neatly boxed after all, despite all of their vigorous
protestations. He was confident that Miss Stafford would
see the advantages to his suit, and as for himself, he was al
ready reconciled to the necessity. Actually, it would not be a
bad thing to have a wife, reflected Cardiff, since at some
point he would need to produce an heir to carry on the fam
ily name. He felt a quickening in him as he glanced again at
Miss Stafford. A smile touched his lips. He did not think it
would be difficult to make love to Thea Stafford.

His gaze was drawn to Thomas Stafford as the young
man leaned over his sister’s chair to point out something on her list. Cardiff’s mouth tightened, his former smile extin
guished. Wed he undoubtedly would be, but he was damned
if he would tie the knot in the company of any of Miss
Stafford’s mad relations. He had already made that decision
when he spoke to his servants.

Really, the one and most formidable drawback to a union with Miss Stafford was undoubtedly her family. Cardiff felt
that honor carried obligation only so far. He would have
Miss Stafford to wife, but he drew the line at living hand in
glove with her family.

However, the very fact that he was in the army, seeing
duty on the Peninsula, must preclude too frequent visits. As
his wife, she would naturally go with him. Miss Stafford
was undoubtedly fond of her family, despite their rough handling of her, and would miss them. There was a tight English
society established in Portugal, and Cardiff hoped she would
settle in contentedly enough with the other British wives.

“Right then,” murmured Lord Cardiff to himself. The
first order of business was to come to a perfect understand
ing with Miss Stafford. He did not foresee much difficulty
in that, for it must be as clear to her as it was to him that
marriage to him was her best option. The second task would be to divest themselves of her brothers. For the latter, he al
ready had the rudiments of a plan. He hoped that it would be
successful since he did not really wish to call upon his ser
vants for succor.

“Did you say something, my lord?” asked Thea, looking
across at Lord Cardiff inquiringly. She did not know how it
was, but she was at all times sensitive to Lord Cardiff’s
presence. Even though she had been concentrating on the
list for Thomas, she had been aware of his lordship’s somewhat restless wanderings about the room. She saw that he
wore a peculiar smile and that there was a strange light in his
eyes. Startled, she realized it was the same expression he
had worn when he had interrupted her and Mr. Quarles.

Thomas straightened and also looked over at Lord
Cardiff. There was a considering expression in his eyes, as
though he was wondering what Lord Cardiff might he contemplating.

Though Cardiff did not place much emphasis on Thomas Stafford’s powers of cogitation, he still did not want to give
the young gentleman any reason to suspect that he was planning something. In an effort to appear casual, he made a pre
tense of adjusting his coat cuffs.

“I was merely thinking aloud. Of our dinner, actually. I’ll
call for a waiter,” drawled Cardiff. He stepped over to the
bell pull, which was hanging near the hearth, and gave it a decided tug.

Thomas nodded approvingly. He liked to keep the im
portant things in life well in mind himself. “A good thought,
my lord.”

Cardiff sketched an ironic bow before he turned to lean
against the mantel. Ignoring his companions, he stared med
itatively into the fire.

Thea drew her brother’s attention again to her list by ask
ing a pertinent question.

Cardiff paid little attention to their renewed discussion, having other matters besides a shopping list to occupy him.

The waiter must have been near to hand because before many minutes elapsed a knock sounded and he appeared at
the door. Cardiff ordered a neat dinner for four and also
something extra for afterwards, which he hoped would
prove the key to becoming painlessly rid of Miss Stafford’s brothers.

Cardiff had long since judged the Staffords to be minor landed gentry, generations of the family undoubtedly being entrenched in the country with only rare trips up to London, which would account for both their arrogance and their ig
norance concerning his own antecedents. He hoped that
Philip and Thomas Stafford were too countrified to have yet come across some of the more potable entertainments. What
he had in mind was a recipe notorious for its potency.

With an anticipatory smile, Cardiff found that he was ac
tually looking forward to that evening. At last he would be
taking a step to once again become the master of his own
fate.

When Cardiff was done making his wishes known re
garding dinner, an afterthought came to him, and he also
asked for the services of the boots. He pulled his purse out
of his pocket and negligently tossed the waiter a coin. In his
confident manner, he said, “I should like dinner within the
hour. Pray inform the cook.”

With a professional eye, the waiter gauged the weight of
the purse and concluded that this was a patron worth serving
well. He left assuring his lordship of service on the instant.

Thomas’s exit with the finished list in hand coincided
with Philip’s return. It occurred to Cardiff that Philip had
been gone too long on the simple errand of procuring the
services of the chambermaid for Miss Stafford. He narrowed
his eyes speculatively. He hoped Philip had not also started
to arrange for a new team, only to discover that one had al
ready been requested to be put to the carriage before sunrise.

However, Cardiff’s apprehension was proven to be un
founded when Philip unwittingly provided the answer.

“Thea, I have spoken to the innkeeper’s wife at length
and discovered that there is a modiste here who is a capable
needlewoman. I told her that we had lost our baggage and
asked whether she thought the modiste could be expected to
have an extra gown or two already made up that could be altered for you. She has promised to send someone to fetch the
woman,” said Philip.

Thea was quick to show her gratitude.
“Thank
you,
Philip!” She bounced up from the desk to give her brother a spontaneous hug. Her brilliant eyes gleamed above a beam
ing smile.

Philip reddened, gratified that he had pleased her. Awk
wardly he patted her shoulder as she drew away from him.
“Now that’s enough, Thea. What will his lordship think
about such hoydenish tricks? Besides, I just saw a chamber
maid bringing up hot water to your room and—
”

“A bath?
How heavenly! Pray excuse me, Philip, my
lord!”

Thea practically ran from the parlor. The two gentlemen
were left to stare at the spot that she had so abruptly vacated.
Cardiff met Philip’s gaze and suddenly they were both
laughing.

“Women are the same, whether in England or elsewhere.
They will endure the most unimaginable discomfort, as long as they may bathe,” said Cardiff humorously.

“Yes, females like their creature comforts,” said Philip in
amiable agreement. His grin faded as he regarded Lord
Cardiff for a lengthening moment. His expression altered so
that he almost looked to be pleading. “We—Thomas and I—
meant it all for the best, my lord.”

Despite himself, Cardiff felt his own sympathetic re
sponse. If he had had a sister he probably would have gone
to incredible lengths to secure her future happiness. Of
course, it went without saying that he would not have gone about it the same way. However, that was neither here nor
there. He could still appreciate Philip Stafford’s position.

“I am aware of that. I also understand it. And I assure you
that if your sister will agree to accept me, I shall do honor
ably by her,” said Cardiff quietly.

Philip nodded. He appeared about to say something more
when the boots came to the door. In the flurry of instructions
for the cleaning of all three gentlemen’s footgear, whatever
other confidences might have been forthcoming were never
made.

A quarter hour later, Thomas returned. He triumphantly
flourished various bundles tied up in paper and string, as
well as a small portmanteau. He delivered the portmanteau
and some of the bundles across the hall into the hands of the
chambermaid who came to Miss Stafford’s door when he
knocked. The rest of the various personal items the three
gentlemen divided between them.

“I don’t mind telling you that my pockets are almost to
let, Philip,” said Thomas frankly, busily breaking the string
on one of his bundles. “I wanted this shirt and had to dig
deep to come up with what the shopkeeper asked for it.”