The Fleeing Heiress: A funny flight into love. (20 page)

“Out of the question! Thea has no claim on you or her
uncle,” said Mr. Stafford quickly, instantly firing up again.
“She will come home with me.”

“You forget, Stafford! Your daughter’s reputation is compromised,” said Mr. Owen irascibly. “Everyone will
whisper about her. There will be no end to it. She will live
the remainder of her days in disgrace.”

“Thea’s place is at home,” said Mr. Stafford stubbornly.

“No, Papa.” Thea drew in her breath. She folded her hands tightly in her lap. “I am sorry that I must disobey
you, Papa. I am staying with my uncle and aunt. I cannot go
back with you. You firmly compromised my reputation
when you would not take me home at once when I begged you. Now I am offered a way to retrieve my good name and
I am accepting it.”

“I am your father, my girl! You will do as I say!” shouted
Mr. Stafford.

Cardiff leaped to his feet, his fists clenched. His eyes
were blazing. “Mr. Stafford, not many days since I saved
your daughter from an unprincipled bully. I will not now
stand by while you browbeat Miss Stafford,” he said
harshly.

“And
I
shall not allow it to take place under my roof,”
said Mr. Owen, shifting his weight so that he was squared
up to his brother-in-law.

Mr. Stafford glanced from Lord Cardiff’s tense attitude
to Mr. Owen. He stood up and faced his brother-in-law. He
was breathing heavily through his nose. “Then I shall take
leave of your roof, and gladly,” he declared.

“Er—Papa, we are snowed in,” Thea quietly reminded
him.

Mr. Stafford, who had turned on his heel and started for
the parlor door, stopped. He swung around and glared im
potently at the assembled group. He was cheated of a grand
exit and he knew it, but he did not know what to do next.

Once more it was Mrs. Owen who poured the soothing
oil on the roiling waters. Gently, she said, “Carter, you are
our guest. Pray accept our hospitality for as long as you
wish.”

Mr. Stafford growled something indistinguishable,
which might have been reluctant agreement.

Mr. Owen expelled an angry snort but he held his
tongue. He turned his back and stared into the leaping
flames as though he were washing his hands of the busi
ness.

Seeing that her father was struggling to maintain a civil
front, Thea said hastily, “My father thanks you, Aunt.”

Mr. Stafford gave an abrupt nod. “Aye. That is what I
meant!”

“Nicely said,” said Mrs. Owen, looking at her brother-
in-law with approval as though he had uttered the gracious words himself.

Mr. Stafford visibly relaxed under Mrs. Owen’s kindly
gaze. He unexpectedly executed a bow to her. “You are
kindness itself, ma’am,” he said gruffly.

Mrs. Owen inclined her head in acknowledgment before rising gracefully to her feet. She said placidly, “I think perhaps it would be best if Thea is allowed to talk to her father
alone for a few minutes. What do you think, Thea?”

Thea nodded, grateful for her aunt’s exquisite tact. Al
ready too much had been aired that should never have been said in company. In particular she regretted calling her parent an idiot. She had known instantly that she had wounded
his pride and that had been an added goad to his uneven
temper. “Yes, ma’am. I would indeed like to speak to my fa
ther.”

“But my dear—!” exclaimed Mr. Owen, throwing a
meaningful glance in his brother-in-law’s direction.

Mrs. Owen took her husband’s arm firmly between her
hands. “It will be quite all right, I am persuaded. Lord
Cardiff? Will you accompany us to the front parlor?”

“As you wish, Mrs. Owen,” said Cardiff politely. How
ever, before he moved, he looked across at Miss Stafford.
“Are you certain, Miss Stafford?”

Thea smiled at his lordship. “I am certain, my lord.”

“Very well.” Cardiff bowed to her, including Mr.
Stafford in his civil gesture by nodding to the gentleman.

He departed with the Owens.

Despite her assurances to the contrary, Thea wasn’t at all
certain about the prospect of a private interview with
her parent. She could discern from her father’s hard jawline
and the lowering of his brows that he was still out of temper.
She disliked the prospect of the parental storm that would
most likely break over her head in a very few minutes. How
ever, her father’s displeasure had to be faced sometime, and at least now she had others to call on if she needed bolster
ing in making her wishes known. It was simply unfortunate that it was always difficult to persuade her father to a differ
ent viewpoint once he had taken a notion into his head.

The glimmer of an idea came to her. Perhaps there was a
way to appeal to her father without causing a widening of the rift between them, which would only give them both
pain.

Mr. Stafford had followed the rest of the company to the door in order to be certain he and his daughter would be left
in privacy. When he closed the door and turned to stare
frowningly at Thea, she at once hurried into speech in an ef
fort to forestall his scold. “Papa, did you not meet Mama at
an assembly?”

Mr. Stafford was thrown off guard by her unexpected
question. A confused look entered his hard eyes. “Aye, that
is indeed how we came to meet. What of it, daughter?”

“Mama confided to me once that you were the most
handsome gentleman she had ever seen,” said Thea, smiling
slightly.

Mr. Stafford’s expression softened perceptibly. He came
back towards the hearth and settled into a wing chair close
to the flickering fire. “Your mother was partial, Thea. I was
not the handsomest, but she was certainly the prettiest.”

“And you courted her for the whole summer before she consented to wed you,” prompted Thea.

Mr. Stafford chuckled at his resurrected memories. “It
was a pleasant but anxious summer, as I recall. Your mother
took her time to decide to accept my offer for her hand. I
was always driving over to pay my respects to your grand
parents, hoping each time to learn the outcome of my suit.
But at last I was rewarded for my patience. Your mother
consented and we were wed a few months later during the Christmas holiday season. It was an unusual time of year for a wedding, but your mother insisted that she was enchanted
with the notion of a winter wedding.”

“I should like a courtship like that, Papa,” said Thea qui
etly.

There was a long silence, broken only by a log splintering in the fire with a shower of sparks, as Mr. Stafford and Thea solemnly regarded one another. It was a moment that she would long remember for being one when she and her father shared a rare meeting of minds.

At last Mr. Stafford sighed. He slowly nodded his head.
“I understand you, Thea. I am sorry I did not see it before.
If your dear mother had been alive, I know she would have pointed out my error long since. I shall not press you any
more about Lord Cardiff, I give you my word.”

“Thank you, Papa,” said Thea gratefully. She was re
lieved. Finally, her father had come to realize something of her position, and his understanding had come about without a dreadful scene preceding it. “And—and do you also un
derstand why I cannot return home with you just now?”

Mr. Stafford scowled, though without his former anger.

“Perhaps I do. Of course I do. But that does not mean that I
approve of you remaining under your uncle’s roof!”

“Well, where else can I go, Papa? I am quite willing to
entertain another possibility, for naturally I am hesitant to be
a burden on an uncle and aunt whom I scarcely know,” said
Thea. “In fact, I told my aunt just that, but she was kind
enough to insist upon giving me a season anyway. So what
shall I do, Papa?”

Mollified by his daughter’s humbly put question, Mr.
Stafford puffed out his cheeks in a considering way. “I
haven’t given it much thought, Thea.”

“Aunt Theresa would not have me, you know,” said
Thea, reminding her father of the defection of their one
other respectable relation.

Mr. Stafford flushed angrily. “I shall not easily forgive
your great-aunt’s slight! Turn you away, indeed! I was never
more incensed when your brothers told me that old harridan
had actually admitted to it.”

“It is just as well she did, Papa,” said Thea hastily. It was
not her desire to inflame her parent against the aged lady, however shabbily she had also felt that her great-aunt had treated her. “I should probably have grown to be as eccen
tric as Aunt Theresa. You would not like me to gain the rep
utation of being odd.”

Her father looked to be much struck by her observation. “That certainly would not do, Thea, not at all. No. The more
I think about it, the more convinced I become that your
place is with your aunt Owen. Aye, she will take good care
of you, and even though your uncle is a great deal too set up
in his own self-worth, I am certain I can trust him to look
after your welfare properly.”

“This is praise indeed,” said Thea with a quizzical look.

Mr. Stafford acknowledged his daughter’s teasing with a
reluctant chuckle. “Cozening me, are you? Well, I do not
mind it. I prefer it to Tabitha’s sighs and tearful pleadings,
believe me. I was not at all unhappy to leave her behind in
the care of our good housekeeper. I only pray the woman has
the strength of mind to exert some influence upon your sis
ter in my absence!”

“Why, what is wrong with Tabitha?” asked Thea, in
stantly concerned. She was half afraid that her sister was an
gered over her misadventure with Mr. Quarles. It would be
like Tabitha to blame her for all of it, she thought in resignation. It was what she had thought would happen from the
very beginning, when she originally discussed her situation with Lord Cardiff.

Mr. Stafford’s expression grew grim again as his mouth
tightened. “Your foolish sister begs me to consider my deci
sion to send that Quarles fellow to the rightabout. I suppose
in the end I must give way. I will have no peace in the house
otherwise. He is forever calling at the house—not that he
gets in!—or laying for Tabitha in the village so that he may make up to her and encourage her to press me about letting
them wed as soon as they may.”

“Papa, you are not actually going to allow Tabitha to wed Mr. Quarles now, are you?” asked Thea tentatively. She was appalled by the possibility, not only from the question of her
sister’s welfare but also from her own standpoint. She could
not imagine being forced to meet Mr. Quarles in the guise of
a brother-in-law. It was more than could be borne, she
thought. Whatever could Tabitha be thinking?

Mr. Stafford looked at his youngest daughter from under
gathered brows. There was trouble in his expression. “I own,
it is not what I like, but it is what Tabitha wishes.”

Thea knew well enough that her sister was not in love
with Mr. Quarles but merely liked the notion of being mis
tress of her own establishment. Tabitha had made no secret
of it. As for Mr. Quarles, Thea was perfectly sure of that gentleman’s motivation. “Papa, Mr. Quarles set off with me
because he has pressing financial embarrassments. He told me of it himself! I suspect his circumstances will not be
changed even if he weds Tabitha, for he is not a very prudent
person. He could not even plan an abduction properly! If he
weds Tabitha, he will likely press her to ask you for funds
over and over to meet his newest obligations.”

Mr. Stafford pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I am glad you
have told me this, Thea. It puts a clearer perspective on the
matter. You are undoubtedly correct, for Quarles had already
begun to hint to me that he is dissatisfied with Tabitha’s
dowry. No, I have made up my mind at last, and not another
shed tear will have the power to sway me. Tabitha shall not
be allowed to throw herself away on such a ne’er-do-well.”

“What will you tell her, Papa?” asked Thea, impressed by
her parent’s forceful wording but placing little reliance on
his strength of purpose. He could be obstinate and pig
headed, but he had already virtually admitted that he could
not hold out against Tabitha’s feminine distress.

Mr. Stafford considered the matter for a long moment.
“Tabitha will squall, of course. But she’ll perk up soon
enough with the promise of a shopping expedition and a few
select parties.”

“That will be just the thing, Papa!” exclaimed Thea, sur
prised that her father had thought of something so practical.
“And perhaps she will find someone who suits her better
than Mr. Quarles.”

“I hope so, indeed. I wish you would do the same during
this season that your aunt is footing for you,” said Mr.
Stafford. “It will relieve my mind of a great care when my two beloved daughters are well settled.”

Thea laughed. At that moment she felt herself to be in charity with her father, and she could afford to be conciliat
ing. “I shall do my utter best to honor your wishes, sir.”

Mr. Stafford grunted. “It’s too bad you did not think
enough of your duty to me when I provided you with an ac
ceptable bridegroom in Lord Cardiff.”

“We have already gone through that. Papa,” said Thea
sternly.

“Indeed we have,” sighed Mr. Stafford. He shrugged in
resignation. “Ah, well! You have a wise head on your shoul
ders, Thea. I shall henceforth trust you to do just as you ought.”

“Why, thank you, Papa!” said Thea, quite touched. On
impulse she got out of her chair and went over to kiss her fa
ther’s cheek. Unexpected tears swam into her eyes as she
looked down at him. His hair had grown sparse and he
moved more ponderously than he used to in years past. Thea
realized for perhaps the first time that her father was aging,
and the fact mildly disconcerted her. She had never thought
of him except as a pillar of strength, many times too loud,
but always fond. She rested her hand on his wide shoulder.
“I love you, Papa.”

Mr. Stafford reddened. He patted her arm and said
gruffly, “Now, now, there’s no need to turn all female on me. Let us rejoin the others, shall we? There is something of par
ticularity I wish to say to Lord Cardiff.”

Thea assented and together she and her father left the
parlor. They sought out the rest of the company in the front
parlor, and when they entered the room, all eyes came to rest
on them. The buzz of polite conversation died away on the instant as though it had been choked off.

Mr. Stafford hesitated, as though embarrassed to be
watched by such a crowd of witnesses, but then he went
over to Lord Cardiff. Somewhat stiffly but loudly enough
for all to hear him, he said, “My lord, I have come to realize
that I owe you an apology. It is late in coming, but I hope you will accept it.”

Thomas appeared to strangle on something, and his
brother absently pounded on his broad back. Even in his dis
tress, Thomas’s eyes never wavered from his father’s stolid
figure, and neither did Philip’s.

Aware that the entire company was watching and listen
ing, Cardiff smiled and held out his hand. It was not in Lord
Cardiff to reject a man who showed such character that he would risk public humiliation in order to offer an apology.
“Let’s let bygones be bygones, Mr. Stafford.”

Mr. Stafford grasped his lordship’s hand in a firm hand
shake. “Thank you, my lord.”

There was a collective sigh as a flickering of smiles was exchanged amongst the company. Even Mr. Owen allowed himself the slightest easing of expression as he nodded towards his brother-in-law. Mr. Stafford seemed surprised by
Mr. Owen’s gesture of approval, then gratified.

“Aunt, my father has granted me permission to stay with
you and my uncle and to travel up to London with you for
the season,” said Thea with a smiling glance in her father’s
direction.