The Fleeing Heiress: A funny flight into love. (11 page)

Cardiff glanced over at Thomas thoughtfully. He found
the information regarding the Staffords’ finances to be of
vast interest. Even if he had not already decided to be rid of
their company, it was quite possible their scheme would
have run aground for lack of funds before very many more
miles had been covered. More to the point, once he effected his escape with Miss Stafford (assuming, of course, that she was amenable to his offer for her hand and his plans for their
wedding), it might be rather difficult for the Stafford broth
ers to run them to ground as easily as they had Miss Stafford
when she boarded the stagecoach.

Fortunately for him, he always carried his purse on his
person and so he had never been without it even through
such a disgraceful episode as he had lately endured. His own
funds were still ample to handle whatever charges he might incur on his journey.

He wondered idly how long it would have taken the
Staffords to screw up their courage and decide to plunder his
purse in order to continue the journey to Gretna Green. But
perhaps he was underestimating their code of honor. He
liked to think so, for they were to be his brothers-in-law,
after all.

Unaware of his lordship’s regard, Thomas continued, “I
had no notion of the price of things. I suspect I was charged
more by some of the tradespeople only because I am a
stranger.”

“You did not allow yourself to be cheated, surely!” said
Philip with a quick frown.

“No, of course not! At least—well, not so that you would
notice,” said Thomas. His recollections seemed to become a
bit uncomfortable, bringing a deep scowl to his face.

“If you were overcharged, Thomas, it was not an unusual
thing to have happen. It is like that for strangers anywhere they may find themselves. The trick is to make oneself ac
ceptable to the locals,” said Cardiff casually. “The Por
tuguese tradespeople have never fared better than they do
since our army arrived in their country. We British pay for our goods, whereas the French were wont simply to seize whatever it was they wanted. It is the difference between an
army that is supplied by a baggage train and an army that is
expected to forage from the countryside.”

“I should like to sit down with you one day, my lord, and
talk about your experiences in the war,” said Thomas with quick interest. He shook his head with a sigh. “It is as close I shall ever get to the actual thing.”

“Perhaps we shall do that very thing one day, Thomas.
But I think not tonight. After dinner, I should like an hour in
private with Miss Stafford, if that is agreeable to you both,” said Cardiff.

“Quite agreeable, my lord. Thomas and I shall take ourselves off as soon as the covers are removed,” said Philip, making the slightest of bows.

“Oh, I see! Yes, that is just what we’ll do, indeed,” agreed
Thomas. He was pleased to comprehend the purpose behind Lord Cardiff’s request. “You’ll wish time to make your offer
to our sister in form, of course.”

“Precisely,” said Cardiff dryly. “However, after Miss
Stafford and I come to an agreement and she withdraws for
the evening, perhaps you and Philip would be good enough
to rejoin me here in the parlor. I have ordered the ingredients for a rare bowl of punch, over which I thought we might dis
cuss the outcome of my formal offer for Miss Stafford’s
hand and begin talking over the preliminary details of the settlements.”

“Settlements?” repeated Philip, looking as though he was
mouthing an unfamiliar word.

His brother as usual zeroed in on what was most impor
tant to his own desires. “A bowl of hot punch! Marvelous!”
exclaimed Thomas, rubbing his hands together. His bland
blue eyes were bright with anticipation. “That is something
like, my lord!”

Cardiff nodded and smiled at Thomas, but otherwise con
fined himself to replying to Philip. “In the absence of your
father and as Miss Stafford’s brothers, you are naturally to
become his mouthpieces. Surely I may rely upon you in that
capacity?” He raised his brows, allowing mild surprise to
thread his voice, making it obvious that he thought there
could be little question of their willingness to comply with his request.

As Cardiff had known he would, Philip Stafford rose to the challenge. Philip threw out his wide chest. “Of course, my lord! Thomas and I shall be happy to act as our father’s proxy in this matter. We shall hold ourselves at your ser
vice.”

“Now there’s a good notion for a cold night, my lord,”
said Thomas with deep approval. “A bowl of hot punch and
solemn business to discuss over it.”

Cardiff smiled. “I am glad you welcome my suggestion, Thomas.” He rubbed one hand over his roughened chin
thoughtfully. “I believe I shall call for a basin of hot water
and shave myself before dinner. I shall leave you to your
own company, gentlemen.” He picked up his own bundles
from the table and began to saunter across the parlor.

“Are you in the habit of shaving yourself, my lord?”
asked Thomas, disconcerted. He had assumed that Lord
Cardiff would call upon one of the waiters to perform that service for him.

Cardiff looked back at the younger man, a prominent gleam of mockery in his eyes. “A soldier must be able to
care for himself, Thomas.”

“Of course—of course,” said Thomas hastily.

Carrying the bundles containing a new shirt and other personal sundries, Cardiff approached the door of the small
bedchamber that had been allotted to him for his own use. It
had not escaped his notice that the bedchamber was situated where he would have to pass through the parlor in order to
gain access to the hall. He had gained a measure of trust but
not all. Philip and Thomas apparently believed he might change his mind about being willing to wed their sister.

The Stafford brothers had elected to share the larger
chamber, which also adjoined the parlor. Cardiff suspected
that they meant to leave their door open in order to be awakened by any attempt on his part to escape from them during the night. It amused him, for he rather thought he could steal
past any number of open doorways with as little sound as a
ghost. After all, he had been on more than one reconnaissance of the enemy.

On the thought, Cardiff paused on the threshold before
entering his bedchamber. He looked directly at Philip
Stafford with a cool expression. “You’ll not need the pistol any longer,” he said quietly, deliberately.

“No, my lord. So I believe, too,” said Philip with a slight
bow.

It was a concession and they both knew it.

Cardiff smiled and went into the bedchamber with the ad
mirable object of making himself presentable before dinner. After all, it was not every evening of his life that he made a formal offer of marriage. He discovered that he was actually
anticipating the event.

Since all parties concerned were determined to be ami
able, dinner was a convivial meal. The pleasant atmos
phere was undoubtedly furthered by the opportunity
afforded the ill-assorted travelers to refresh themselves and
refurbish their appearances.

Thea had with relief been able to put off her own soiled
gown and replace it with one that the modiste had brought
to her. The new gown was not of the same quality fabric or
fashion as were her own and it did not fit quite properly
through the bosom, but Thea was nonetheless immensely
pleased with it.

The modiste had had three made-up gowns in her pos
session that had been left on her hands by dissatisfied
clients. Thea had instantly rejected one as being far too ugly.
It had also been too short. The other two were found to be
acceptable once the sides had been taken in a little. The
gown she wore to dinner had been intended for a lady with
a more sparing bosom, so that when she tried it on she had
felt herself to be displaying a bit more of her charms than
she was used to doing. However, a lace fichu stitched strate
gically into place had served admirably to camouflage the
defect.

Thea had also accepted the other gown, which was a
modest blue merino walking dress made up with large
mother-of-pearl buttons. Since the modiste had had the
happy thought of bringing a chemise and unmentionables
and an extra pair of stockings, Thea had experienced the exquisite pleasure of putting on fresh undergarments after her
bath. She had very nearly purred with satisfaction.

A price had been negotiated with the modiste, and her
brother Philip had been applied to for the necessary funds. The modiste had gone away as pleased as Thea by the unexpected transaction.

Thea’s own walking dress and smallclothes had been washed out and were drying in front of the fire in her bed
chamber. What with the acquisition of two changes of cloth
ing, a hairbrush and a few other personal items and the portmanteau in which to pack them, Thea felt herself to be rich indeed.

When she looked at her brothers, it pleased her that they
had obviously taken pains to improve their appearance.
Whatever else might be lacking in them, their sense of worth
was well ingrained. The thick curling hair that graced both
their heads was combed into shining order and their coats
had been brushed free of dirt. Their boots had undergone
cleaning, as well. They presented a tidy, respectable appear
ance even though their cravats were sadly crushed.

However, Thea thought neither of her brothers could ever
hold a candle to Lord Cardiff. She did not know how it was,
but he had all the appearance of a man who had just come
from the able hands of his valet. Clean-shaven, his cropped
hair neat, his coat brushed and his boots polished, Lord Cardiff should not have appeared one whit different from
the Staffords. Obviously, he had put on a new shirt and his cravat had been freshly starched and ironed before he put it
on. Yet Thea suspected that even without those extra
touches, Lord Cardiff would have stood out in any company.
His lordship carried himself with an innate assuredness and
confidence that could not be duplicated by her brothers.

Lord Cardiff was an attractive gentleman, Thea reflected idly as she watched the varied expressions flicker across his
tanned face during the conversation. He was not exception
ally tall; both of her brothers topped him by a couple of
inches. However, Lord Cardiff’s straight military bearing,
with his shoulders well back and his head carried at a proud
angle, gave him a presence that was undeniable and made him appear taller than most men.

Handsome, very tanned, possessing an easy smile. Thea decidedly liked the gentleman, for she could think of noth
ing about him that gave her pause. Of all Lord Cardiff’s
good qualities, however, Thea liked best his frank, open
gaze and the twinkle that was generally lurking in the depths
of his penetrating blue eyes.

Thea gave a tiny sigh as her reflections inevitably led her
to contemplation of her present situation and the company
she found herself in. It had been so like Lord Cardiff to re
spond in chivalry when it became clear that she faced social ruin. As the gentleman most nearly involved, outside her fa
ther and her brothers, Lord Cardiff had seen the protection
of her good name as his responsibility. His offer of marriage
was therefore perfectly understandable in the context of
what she knew of his character.

Indeed, Thea was honest enough to admit to herself that
Lord Cardiff’s offer was very tempting. She had thought
about little else while she bathed.

If she had met Lord Cardiff under normal circumstances, in an unexceptional manner as befitting their social stations,
Thea knew she would not have hesitated an instant in ac
cepting his suit. It was a pity indeed that the circumstances
were far otherwise. Thea gave another tiny sigh.

“Woolgathering, Miss Stafford?”

Thea looked up, mildly startled. She had been slowly running her finger round and round the edge of her wine
glass and apparently Lord Cardiff had taken note of it. She saw that he was still watching her, his brows quirked as he
awaited her reply. The slow smile that played across his face
made her heart contract and suddenly beat a little faster.

Careful to cover any sign of her inner turbulence, Thea returned his lordship’s smile. With a hint of ruefulness, she
said, “Rather, I should call it being sunk in a brown study,
my lord.”

“Inevitable, I suppose,” murmured Cardiff. “I, too, have
had a great deal for reflection pressing on my mind.”

“My lord, we must talk,” said Thea, lowering her voice.
Her brothers had fallen into friendly disagreement about the differing merits of hunting country they had both attempted,
and she had no apprehension of being overheard and ques
tioned. She knew that Philip and Thomas could discuss such
things almost indefinitely.

“I agree, for we must do something about our present situation,” said Cardiff. He glanced at Miss Stafford’s brothers
and his mouth tightened momentarily, then relaxed again. He raised his voice to address the bickering brothers. “Gentlemen, the covers have been removed and I ask that
you will excuse us now. I should like to speak privately to Miss Stafford.”

Thea was surprised when her brothers at once agreed.
She had expected suspicious queries, at the very least, and
quite probably a rejection of Lord Cardiff’s request.

“Of course, my lord.”

Her brothers rose from the table and let themselves out of
the parlor. They closed the door behind them, shutting off
the renewal of their former argument.

Thea had watched them go with her mouth slightly
agape, surprise holding her still. When the door closed, she turned back to Lord Cardiff. It was quite plain to her that his
lordship had somehow caused her brothers to agree to his re
quest prior to dinner. At once Thea thought she understood
how it came about that her brothers had had no objection to
an unchaperoned meeting between their sister and Lord
Cardiff. There could be only one explanation. Her stomach
fluttered with nervousness, for now that the time had come,
Thea was not as sure about the rightness of her decision as
she would have liked to be.

Thea discovered her companion to be frowning down at his wineglass. Attempting to get over the awkward silence that had fallen, she said lightly, “My lord, this is rather unorthodox.”

He looked up quickly, meeting her smiling gaze, and
laughed. “My dear Miss Stafford, our entire history up to
now has been completely unorthodox. I hope, in speaking
with you now, that we may bring some semblance of nor
malcy to our association.”

Thea set her napkin on the table and dropped her hands
into her lap. She clasped her fingers tightly together. She was glad when her voice did not betray her nervousness
when she spoke. “My lord, if you mean to refer to the most obliging offer which you made to me earlier, I must tell you
that I am of the same mind.”

“Dear Miss Stafford, pray do not reject my suit out of
hand. I ask that you give it grave thought, for I believe a
marriage between us will prove to be the best solution for
one in your peculiar circumstances,” said Cardiff in a quiet
fashion. There was not an ounce of emotion reflected in ei
ther his sober expression or his voice.

Thea hurried into speech again, as much to forestall
whatever else he was going to say as to be as plain as possible with him. “What you mean, but do not say, is my ruined
reputation,” she said with a quick grimace.

Cardiff hesitated fractionally, as though reluctant to
agree. Slowly, he nodded. “As you say, Miss Stafford.”

Thea drew a deep breath. She said earnestly, “Lord
Cardiff, I am fully sensible to the honor you do me. But I am
also aware of the sacrifice involved on your side. You are
too good and kind a gentleman to be entrapped and snared
into an unwanted marriage.”

Cardiff straightened in his chair, watching her face.
“Miss Stafford, I assure you that I quite understand your feelings, but I do not see our marriage as a sacrifice. On the contrary—“

Thea flung up a hand to put a stop to his lordship’s stiffly polite phrases. She did not think that she could bear to hear
him out. “Pray do not, my lord! Let us have honesty between
us, I beg of you!”

There was a short, poignant silence. They looked at one
another, neither gaze wavering. Thea was breathing shal
lowly, just as though she had been hurrying somewhere. She
waited in tense suspense for her companion’s reaction, for
she very much feared that she might have offended his lord
ship with her blunt speech.

Cardiff got up from the tale and walked over to the
hearth. He laid one arm along the mantel and looked down
while he nudged the log burning in the grate with one booted
toe. When he glanced over at her again, his smile was
twisted. “You will not allow me to wrap it up in pretty tis
sue, will you?”

A smile came trembling to her lips. He was not offended,
at least. She met his gaze steadfastly. “No, my lord.”

“Very well.” Cardiff left his place beside the fire and
came back to the table. He held out his hand, and when she had laid her own in it, he gently brought her standing to her
feet. Still holding her hand, he said quietly, “Miss Stafford,
while it is true that I did not plan to wed thus early in my
life, nevertheless I formally beg of you to accept my suit. I
promise you that I shall honor you and protect you for all of
our natural lives.”

Thea stared up into his earnest face. There was a grave expression in the depths of his eyes which told her that he
had spoken out of complete sincerity. She felt herself wa
vering, which would not do at all.

“Oh dear! I must be all about in my head,” said Thea with
more than a hint of regret.

While Cardiff regarded her quizzingly, she quietly with
drew her hand from his warm clasp. She took a step backwards to place a little distance between them. “But really,
really, I must be resolute. My lord, I thank you from the bot
tom of my heart. But I cannot accept your suit. I have an
other avenue in mind besides wedlock, which I believe wilt
suit us both much better.”

“If it is your intent to become a governess or take a posi
tion as a cook or some such thing rather than wed me, I must inform you that I am insulted,” said Cardiff, only half in jest. His alert, half-narrowed gaze remained fixed on her face. He
felt strangely disappointed by her rejection.

“No, it is a much better scheme than that,” said Thea,
purposely ignoring the frown in his eyes.

She moved away from him again because his proximity
was distracting to her. She placed her hands on the back of
a chair, half turned away from him. Even so, she was vitally
aware of his regard.