The Fleeing Heiress: A funny flight into love. (13 page)

The miles rolled swiftly past. It was a much more pleasant journey than before, reflected Thea, simply because she was not so anxious or angry. She realized also that the carriage was being driven at a far faster pace than it had been
while her brothers were aboard. Obviously, Lord Cardiff’s
servants had disobliged her brothers as much as they dared
while their master was perceived to be in danger.

Altogether this was a different sort of journey, attended
as it was by the proper chaperone of a maid. Also Lord
Cardiff was abiding by the conventions by riding outside
rather than being driven inside with her. Thea contrasted the
two journeys and discovered to her surprise that she felt a
twinge of regret that the first one had finally ended. The
easy camaraderie between herself and Lord Cardiff was at
an end, and she wished that it was not,

Thea and Lord Cardiff arrived at her great-aunt’s resi
dence in midmorning. The house was a modest country
manor set in depressing, overgrown grounds.

The porter who opened the door to the visitors acknowl
edged grudgingly that Mrs. Partridge was at home and he reluctantly moved aside to allow them to enter. Thea and Lord
Cardiff stepped inside, followed by the chambermaid they had brought with them from the inn.

The porter left Thea and Lord Cardiff standing in the nar
row entry hall and disappeared through a paneled door, ap
parently to announce the unexpected visitors. The porter’s
attitude made it obvious that he considered the visitors in the
light of unwelcome intruders.

“I am afraid that my great-aunt is not particularly socia
ble,” said Thea apologetically.

Cardiff said nothing, merely nodding in acknowledgment
of Miss Stafford’s observation. He had already formed the opinion that if the porter’s sloppy attention to his duty was
any example, Mrs. Partridge’s household left much to be de
sired.

The porter shortly returned and silently led the way to
show Thea and Lord Cardiff into a side parlor. The chamber
maid was ignored and left to her own devices in the entry
hall.

Cardiff crossed the threshold, only to be brought up short by an astonishing sight. His gaze was bemused as he swept
the room with a single comprehensive glance. “My word!”

A decrepit old woman attired in the wide panniers of a
former era was seated on a large divan, which she shared
with three or four cats. It was impossible to tell how many,
since the animals were curled in a tumbled heap of fur. Cats
lay drowsing on the oriental carpet in front of the blazing
fire. Cats slept on the wing chairs. Small kittens rolled and
tumbled with great balls of yarn, snarling their infant ferocity. Others galloped round and round through the chair legs,
chasing one another.

Thea ignored Lord Cardiff’s stupefaction. His lordship
had been warned by her brother Thomas, after all. She
stepped across the cats scattered over the carpet, making her way over to her great-aunt, Mrs. Partridge. Thea leaned over to affectionately kiss the old woman’s hollow cheek. “Thank
you for receiving me, Aunt Theresa.”

“The only reason I did was because I was curious.” Mrs.
Partridge’s pale, sharp eyes centered on her great-niece’s companion. “Who is that with you?”

“I am Lord David Cardiff, ma’am, at your service.”
Cardiff had recovered his usual aplomb and executed an el
egant bow.

The old lady snorted and eyed Lord Cardiff askance.
“Vastly pretty. You may sit down.” She turned her attention to her great-niece, obviously dismissing her unknown guest.
“Now, Thea, give me the tale.”

Cardiff looked around. There was not a vacant chair in
sight. Coolly, he plucked a heavy cat from a wing chair and
sat down. The big ginger cat instantly jumped back up and
turned itself on his lordship’s lap before settling down with
a lazy yawn. Cardiff grinned and shrugged.
When in
Rome
...
He fondled the cat’s torn ears and it began sounding a loud, ragged purr.

Mrs. Partridge approvingly observed Lord Cardiff’s interaction with her cat. “Ginger-boy likes you.”

“So I observe,” said Cardiff suavely.

Thea made a place for herself in the same way as had
Lord Cardiff. She was well enough acquainted with her
great-aunt’s eccentricities that the cats did not bother her. Instead she focused on relating her recent history to Mrs. Partridge. With a smile, she ended, “And so, dear ma’am, I have
come to you hoping that I may stay with you.”

“Well, you can’t,” said Mrs. Partridge flatly. At Thea’s shocked expression, she softened her refusal. “This is no
place for a young girl like you, Thea. I never entertain and my neighbors know better than to bother me.”

“But what shall I do, then?” asked Thea, not of anyone in
particular. She had been thrown completely off balance. It had never occurred to her that her great-aunt might refuse
her.

Mrs. Partridge directed her keen gaze at Lord Cardiff.
She snapped, “You had best marry the girl.”

Cardiff smiled at Miss Stafford, whose face had pinkened
quite becomingly. “I have offered to do so.”

“I don’t wish to wed Lord Cardiff!” exclaimed Thea. Her
eyes sparkled with irritation. “Why does everyone keep say
ing I must?”

“I don’t blame you. I don’t care for men much myself.
However, this one likes cats and so I suspect he may be bet
ter than most,” said Mrs. Partridge placatingly. “You might
try to like him, my dear. You’ll not find any gentleman
around this vicinity who will suit you better. They have all
got a preference for hunting and dogs. Awful creatures!”

Thea rolled her eyes. She dared not speculate what Lord Cardiff must think about her great-aunt’s assessment of his
character. His lordship was the model of a gentleman and he
had been reduced to the level of a mere cat lover.

“I like Lord Cardiff very well, Aunt. That does not mean
I wish to wed him.”

“I am cut to the heart, ma’am,” murmured Cardiff. He did
not respond to Miss Stafford’s indignant glance, but managed to retain his wounded expression.

“Sickly, that is what I call it,” said Mrs. Partridge, gri
macing at Lord Cardiff’s soulful look.

Cardiff gave a laugh, which he quickly changed to a
cough. “My apologies, ma’am. You were saying?”

With a last glance of disgust, Mrs. Partridge turned back
to Thea.

“However, if you cannot stomach the notion, I suggest
you apply to your Uncle Owen,” she said in a brisk voice. “You’ve the look of your mother about you. If I know any
thing about Owen, it is that he’ll do what he can for you.”

“My Uncle Owen?” repeated Thea, astonished.

“Don’t gawk so, girl. It makes you appear stupid. Yes, the
Owens. Your mother’s people,” said Mrs. Partridge impa
tiently.

“You have a maternal uncle, Miss Stafford?” asked
Cardiff in surprise. He had gathered from the talk between
her and her brothers that she had no other close relations be
sides the one great-aunt.

“And an aunt, too, unless she has died in the last few
months,” said Mrs. Partridge dryly. “The Owens are decent
people. They sent me a nice letter when I was ailing last
year.”

The elderly lady’s hands constantly caressed the cats
tucked about her and in her lap. Cardiff watched in fascina
tion and made an attempt to count the number of cats, but he
was never quite certain that he had gotten them all.

“I had quite forgotten Mama’s brother and his wife. Papa quarreled horribly with my uncle when I was a small girl. I
don’t know what the quarrel was about but it put an end to
all communication between the families. I have not seen
them for several years,” said Thea slowly, a slight frown forming between her brows.

“Your Papa quarrels with everyone. He even quarreled
with me and I am the most temperate creature imaginable,”
said Mrs. Partridge in an irascible tone.

“I am certain of it, ma’am,” said Cardiff suavely, the
barest hint of laughter in his voice. He was enjoying the old lady and her eccentricities.

Mrs. Partridge allowed a somewhat toothless smile to
stretch her withered lips. She bestowed a nod on Lord
Cardiff. In her forthright way, she said, “My niece is a fool.
She should have you to the altar.”

Cardiff smiled. He was beginning to think so also, the
longer he was in Miss Stafford’s company. “You flatter me,
Mrs. Partridge.”

“I probably do.” Mrs. Partridge ignored the strangled
sounds coming from Thea’s direction and continued, “I shall write a note for Thea to carry with you to the Owens. It will
look better.”

Mrs. Partridge had evidently taken it for granted that
Lord Cardiff would continue to act as her great-niece’s es
cort. Cardiff managed a credible bow from the waist, despite
the obstruction of the fat tabby filling his lap. “Thank you,
ma’am.”

The old lady leveled a scolding expression on Lord
Cardiff. “You shouldn’t be bouncing around the countryside
with my great-niece in this very odd fashion, my lord.”

“That has been my thought from the beginning ma’am.”
Cardiff tried and failed to hide the flash of grin. The lady
had no notion how strongly he had felt about the necessity,
he reflected with ruefulness.

“It was Lord Cardiff’s notion to hire the chambermaid as a companion for me,” said Thea quickly. “His lordship has behaved very circumspectly.”

Mrs. Partridge snorted. “Chambermaids! Ravishers! My brain is still spinning from this tangled tale of yours, Thea.”

A high, wavering shriek broke, followed by a second
awful squall. Mrs. Partridge palpably jumped. She clasped a
bony hand to her chest, moaning in agitation, “Oh, my heart!
My heart!” One of her lap cats stretched and yawned un
concernedly.

Thea also started, her gaze flying to the parlor door. The
unearthly sound seemed to be coming from the entry hall.
“Goodness! Aunt Theresa, what other beasts do you house?”

Mrs. Partridge sat up, abandoning her wilted pose.
“None!” she snapped.

“What the devil!” exclaimed Cardiff, unceremoniously
dumping the cat off his lap and striding quickly to the parlor door. He neglected to watch his step and tripped over one of the cats that suddenly leaped up between his feet. He flailed wildly in the air, unavailingly, and crashed to the carpet. He
lay there, blinking up at the plastered ceiling. It was a good thing, he thought resignedly, that he had not landed on his
right shoulder.

Sight of the ceiling was replaced by a view of Miss
Stafford’s concerned face as she bent over him. “My lord! Are you quite all right?”

“Do you know, you look charmingly upside-down,” remarked Cardiff in a detached voice.

“What a nonsensical thing to say! You must have
wounded your head,” said Miss Stafford with a frown, lay
ing her hand lightly across his brow.

“I think my dignity is more wounded than my head,” commented Cardiff. He sat up and then got to his feet. An
other squall penetrated to the parlor. “There is that ghastly
sound again!” He continued his progress to the parlor door, but negotiated it more carefully, wary of the unpredictable cats.

Thea also jumped up and followed his lordship. She was
close behind Lord Cardiff when he yanked the door open.

The sight that met their combined, alarmed gaze was astonishing. The chambermaid, who had been left in the
entry hall, was backed up against the wall, her hands
splayed against the dark wainscoting. Her face was a study
in terror as she stared wild-eyed down at the half-dozen cats
that stalked up and down in front of her. One of the cats brushed up against the chambermaid’s ankles, and another shattering shriek broke from her throat.

“My babies always know when someone doesn’t like
them,” observed Mrs. Partridge mildly. She had hobbled up
behind Thea and Lord Cardiff, and she looked at the terri
fied chambermaid with disapprobation. “Quiet that creature at once. She is giving me the migraine, and my heart is still
jumping in my chest like a cricket. I am an old woman. I
cannot support such excitement. I shall go write that note for
you, Thea.” With that, Mrs. Partridge turned back into the
parlor. Her interest in the matter was obviously extin
guished.

The chambermaid’s terror had been penetrated by the old
lady’s shrill voice. She looked up quickly, and upon catch
ing sight of her mistress, she broke free from the wall and
stumbled over to Thea. Falling to her knees and snatching
Thea’s hands, she panted, “Save me, miss! They be devils from the pits!”

Thea struggled to free her hands from the woman’s tight
clutch but to no avail. “We are leaving very soon. Why don’t
you go out to wait in the carriage?” she suggested desper
ately.

“Thank you, miss!” The chambermaid leaped to her feet
and ran as fast as she was capable towards the front door.
Cats scattered every which way, yowling complaints. The
porter barely had time to throw the door open. The woman
whisked herself out of the house, and the porter slammed shut the door with a peculiar satisfaction on his sour face.

Cardiff burst out laughing. “I have never in my life wit
nessed such a hilarious scene!”

Trying to control her own quivering lips, Thea regarded
his lordship reprovingly. “It is not very seemly to laugh at the poor ignorant girl, my lord.”

“I wasn’t. At least, not much. I was just remembering what Thomas said about the cats,” said Cardiff, grinning.
His eyes glinted with humor. “Do you recall? He didn’t like
‘all of them staring’ at him.”

“He—he did seem to have an inordinate distaste for
them,” admitted Thea, her voice wobbling. Meeting the
laughing expression in Lord Cardiff’s eyes, she started gig
gling. “Oh, poor Thomas!”

“Has he ever dashed out of the house like that, struck by
horror?” asked Cardiff with interest. He nudged a particu
larly inquisitive feline away from his boots. It stalked away,
tail held stiffly upright.

“No; at least, I do not think so. But Thomas never did like
visiting Aunt Theresa as a boy. He was glad when Papa
quarreled with her and we did not visit as often,” said Thea,
gurgling still with laughter.

Mrs. Partridge came hobbling back into the entry hall, trailed by several curious cats. She carried a sealed note in
her gnarled hand. “Here you are. You may easily reach the
Owens before tea, so I will not keep you standing here any
longer.”

Thea thanked her great-aunt politely, taking the letter and
tucking it safely away in her reticule. It was no use to reiterate the desperateness of her plight. Mrs. Partridge appar
ently thought she was safe enough in Lord Cardiff’s
company, which of course she was. However, Thea did wish
that she could simply become settled safely somewhere.
There was no denying that it had been a blow when her
great-aunt rejected her. Now she was being sent to relations she had not seen in years, and a queasy feeling of apprehension touched her.

Lord Cardiff took his leave of the redoubtable old lady as
though she were a duchess, bowing over her blue-veined
hand and saluting her thin fingers with the brush of a kiss.

Mrs. Partridge smiled up at his lordship again. She turned back to her niece and said in a resigned tone, “You’re a fool,
girl. All the Staffords are, more’s the pity. If the Owens
won’t have you, come back to me. I haven’t anything to
offer you. I don’t entertain, so there would be no parties and
no beaus. However, I’ve taken in strays aplenty. One more
won’t make much difference. But I won’t have that creature
of yours back, mind! My nerves wouldn’t stand it.”

“Thank you, Aunt,” said Thea, careful to keep her ex
pression neutral. She felt a brighter flare of indignation than
she did of gratitude at her great-aunt’s apparent willingness
to take her in only when she was hardly out the door. “I shall
remember that.”

Lord Cardiff started to usher Thea out, but she stopped
him with a touch on his sleeve. She glanced back at her
great-aunt. “By the way, Aunt Theresa, my brothers may
think to look for me here.”

A martial light entered the old lady’s keen, pale eyes and
she snapped, “Never fear. If they dare to set foot here, I shall
send them to the right about with a rare bug in their ears!”

Thea smiled a bit helplessly and Lord Cardiff once more
took her elbow. Together they left the house, and the door
was shut behind them with firm finality. Thea could almost
swear that she heard a rusty bolt being shot home.

As they went down the icy steps, Thea felt impelled to
apologize to Lord Cardiff. “I am sorry, my lord. My great-
aunt is not only unsociable but very inhospitable, too, I
fear.”

“True; but Mrs. Partridge is an authentic eccentric and so
must be forgiven much,” said Cardiff cheerfully.

“She did not even offer us refreshment,” said Thea with rising indignation,

“My dear Miss Stafford, I didn’t mind sharing my lap
with a cat, but I draw the line at sharing a bowl of cream!”
said Cardiff firmly.

Thea burst out laughing. She cast a rueful glance up
wards at his handsome profile. “It seems all my relations are odd creatures, at best! I feel for you, my lord. You have had
much to endure!”

“I suspect that is the grossest understatement I have ever
heard,” said Cardiff civilly. “I do not think 1 have ever been
in such peril of my life during my whole career as a soldier
as I have been since I met you and your family, Miss
Stafford.”

Thea laughed again. She knew that his teasing words
were meant to ease her embarrassment over the awkward situation, and she appreciated his lordship’s tact.

Cardiff stopped her at the bottom of the steps, so that they
were still a little distance from the carriage. “Miss Stafford,
I should like to say something.”

Thea looked up at him inquiringly with still-sparkling
eyes. “Yes, my lord?”

“Miss Stafford, now that we have a few minutes to think,
perhaps you had better make clearer to me the nature of your
relationship with your maternal uncle. Since he did not
come to your mind earlier, I gather that there is extremely
bad blood between him and your father,” said Cardiff
gravely.

Thea nodded, her amusement at once quenched. “When
my mother was alive, a dreadful quarrel sprang up between
her only living relation, a brother, and my father. The quar
rel resulted in a schism between them. We have had no deal
ings with my mother’s brother and his wife for several
years, or otherwise I might have thought of him before,” she
said somberly.

“My dear Miss Stafford! Are you quite certain you wish
to attempt this? From everything you have said, it is not
likely that your uncle will welcome you with open arms,”
said Cardiff, concerned.

“You mean, any more than my great-aunt did?” asked
Thea. She saw that she had discomfited him and she touched his sleeve. “I am sorry, my lord. I should not have said that.
You have asked a valid question, of course.”

Thea had thought of the same likelihood herself, and at
his lordship’s words, once more a sick feeling of uncertainty
had washed over her. However, she refused to give in to the
fear that tried to creep its way through her.

“I am said to favor my mother and that, coupled with my
uncle’s animosity towards my father, I hope to turn to good
account,” said Thea. She clasped her hands in front of her in
an unconscious gesture of earnestness and looked up at her companion. “My lord, since my great-aunt has failed me, I
believe now it may be my best route.”

“Perhaps,” said Cardiff slowly. He was frowning, turning
over in his mind what she had told him and weighing its worth. There was so much at question and he wondered if
she even guessed how much she risked. The maternal uncle
upon whom she was pinning all of her hopes might be to
tally dead to all family feeling or, worse yet, might even be deceased. He placed little dependence upon Mrs. Partridge’s assurances, for that lady was so far removed from everyone
she would likely be the last to hear of anyone’s death. As for
the aunt, it was anyone’s guess how the lady might react at
the sudden, unheralded arrival of an unknown niece. “Miss Stafford, what is your uncle’s Christian name? Perhaps I am
familiar with his reputation.”

“His name is Mr. Thatcher Owen. I know that is correct,
for I recall my mother talking about him,” said Thea. She
looked at him anxiously. “Have you heard of him, my lord?”

Lord Cardiff shook his head. “I fear not. I wish I had so that I could better advise you.”

“It matters very little at this juncture, I think. I am will
ing to take the chance that my uncle will take me in. I recall Mama saying how fond they had been of one another. It was
a great sadness to her when my father quarreled with my
uncle. Perhaps my great-aunt was correct when she said
some of his attachment to my mother will be transferred to me when he sees me,” said Thea hopefully.

“Perhaps,” said Cardiff. He smiled and took her arm to walk with her the few steps remaining to the waiting car
riage, then helped her up into the vehicle. When Miss
Stafford was comfortably settled, Lord Cardiff shut the door
and gave the coachman the new direction. He mounted his
horse and the cavalcade once more took to the road.

The chambermaid was shivering and shaking, her face
pallid. Thea deduced that her companion was suffering more from fear than cold and sighed. It was too bad that her great-
aunt had not seen fit to offer the shelter of her roof to her.
Then she could have sent the silly chambermaid back to the
inn.

They stopped for luncheon and a change of horses sev
eral hours after they had started. Lord Cardiff, observing how chilled Miss Stafford appeared when he helped her
down, arranged for hot bricks to be placed on the floor of the
carriage just before they would be ready to leave.

After she had eaten and refreshed herself, Thea took the
opportunity to stretch her legs by walking a little way down the deserted lane. She pulled the cloak closely about her for warmth, but her face was exposed to the chill air and soon roses were whipped into her cheeks. The scent of ice was on
the air, she thought. Soon there would be snow.

Cardiff followed, his long legs easily catching her up. He was punctilious in inquiring about her, and Thea readily as
sured him that she was doing very well. “However, it is
good to be able to walk about a little,” she added.

“Yes; I am enjoying the ride even if it is cold. It is infinitely preferable to being cooped up for hours at a time in
side the carriage,” said Cardiff, modifying his stride to
match her shorter one.

It was the first time since their meeting that Lord Cardiff
had referred in any but a laughing way to the unpleasant experience he had had at the hands of Thea’s brothers. She felt
some awkwardness attending to the conversation and was
relieved when the coachman came up to inform Lord Cardiff
that they were ready to go on.