The Fleeing Heiress: A funny flight into love. (14 page)

Cardiff nodded, “Very well, John Coachman. Miss
Stafford, let us turn back.” He took her arm as he spoke and
walked with her quickly back to the inn yard. The hard
ground crunched underfoot where there had been a patch of
moisture. Cardiff cast a knowledgeable eye up at the leaden
sky. “It appears we are in for snow.” His breath frosted on the air as he spoke.

Thea did not reply except with a nod. Her thoughts had flown ahead, and they were not precisely happy reflections.
This time, she was determined she would take her leave of
Lord Cardiff at last. She wouldn’t be faced again with the option of accepting his lordship’s offer for her hand. She
owed him so much that she did not wish to burden him with
a wife whom he did not want.

Of course, there was naturally the chance that Lord
Cardiff had thought better altogether of offering marriage to
her. She wouldn’t blame him in the least, after his unfortu
nate exposure to so many of her relations. Such an experi
ence must give pause to the bravest or even stupidest of
men.

“You are silent suddenly, Miss Stafford.”

Thea cast a fleeting glance up into his face. “I was only
thinking how much I regret our meeting as we did, my lord.”

“I do not. Miss Stafford. It was a truly unique experi
ence,” said Cardiff on a short laugh.

“You do not mind, really?” asked Thea, stopping and facing him.

Cardiff looked down at her with surprise. He was not at
all in the dark to what she referred. “My dear lady, of course I minded being trussed up and kidnapped! But I would not
have missed it for worlds.”

Thea shook her head as she began walking again. “You are an odd man, my lord.”

“I very much fear it is my nature to be quixotic and to
enjoy what others might regard with repugnance,” said
Cardiff affably.

Thea could not think of a reply which would not expose her feelings. She was wondering if his lordship had found
her company to be repugnant and came to the dismal con
clusion that he could have thought it nothing else. After all, every appalling thing that had happened to Lord Cardiff had
taken place because of her. In a way it would be a relief
when she arrived at her uncle’s home and it came time to say
good-bye to Lord Cardiff. Perhaps then she would stop feeling this awful guilt.             

Cardiff caught a glimpse of her somber expression. “Is
something troubling you, Miss Stafford?”

Thea gave a quick smile, about to deny it until she
glanced up at him. She hesitated, then said, “Not precisely, my lord. I was just wondering how much longer it will be
before we reach our destination.”

“I estimate that we shall arrive at your uncle’s home be
fore the dinner hour,” said Cardiff.

When she did not comment, he glanced down at her
again. “Anxious, Miss Stafford?”

Thea raised her head and frankly met his eyes. “I admit
to beginning to feel some trepidation, my lord. I—I do not
know what to expect. Lord Cardiff, what shall I do if my uncle refuses to receive me?”

Cardiff had wondered how long it would be before the
thought occurred to her. He had no ready answer for her, but
he tried to reassure her. “Let us leave off thinking about that
until and if the eventuality arises.”

“That may be very good advice, my lord, but I find it
most difficult to put it into practice,” said Thea with a touch
of asperity.

“Nonetheless, you must try not to fret, Miss Stafford,”
said Cardiff firmly.

“Is it your usual habit to plunge blindly into a situation without first thinking about all the possibilities, my lord?”
asked Thea.

“I like to get the lay of the land beforehand, so that I do not worry unnecessarily,” said Cardiff.

“Oh!” Thea was slightly taken aback by his swift reproof,
but then she chuckled. She shook her head, throwing up a
glance at his tanned face. “I believe I have just been admin
istered a salutatory set down!”

“Perhaps,” said Cardiff with the flicker of a smile. He
handed her up into the carriage. Before he shut the door, he added, “It is quite useless to speculate, Miss Stafford. Only
rest assured that whatever the outcome, I shall stand as your
friend.”

“Thank you, Lord Cardiff.” Thea’s tone was subdued, but however much she disliked how she sounded, she could not
infuse more enthusiasm into her voice.

She was grateful to Lord Cardiff. Of course she was. It
would be odd indeed if she were not. She could never suffi
ciently thank his lordship for all he had done on her behalf.
The heat of the brick beneath her feet testified to Lord
Cardiff’s care. However, there was no denying the slight depression of spirits that came over her when he referred to
himself as her friend.

“What else could he ever be, after all?” she murmured in
a self-scold, even as her eyes sought for a glimpse of that
trim figure bestride his mount.

“Miss? Did you say anything?” asked the chambermaid.

“Oh! No, no. I was merely thinking out loud,” said Thea
hastily, feeling some heat stealing into her cheeks.

Quite contrary to Thea’s expectations, the chambermaid
showed little curiosity. The young woman shrugged and
closed her eyes, completely unconcerned.

Thea regarded the chambermaid with growing disfavor,
contrasting the woman’s attitude to that of her own lady’s
maid. Dear Hitchins! She would never have allowed such a telling comment to pass without pumping her mistress as to
its cause, and Thea would have felt better for unburdening
at least some of her reflections.

However, the chambermaid who shared the carriage with
Thea was not like her own dear Hitchins. This woman did
not care about Thea in the least. The only thing she cared for
was her own financial gain. Mr. Quarles, too, had cared
nothing about Thea. It had been her newly acquired fortune
which had drawn him into her orbit.

It was really quite lowering, thought Thea, fast falling
into a wallow of self-pity. She let out a sigh. There was no
one who really cared about her. Her father and brothers
wanted to preserve the family’s good name by foisting her off on a complete stranger. Mr. Quarles and the chambermaid only wished to feather their own nests. Lord Cardiff
was the best of the lot, but even he, when handed the op
portunity to escape parson’s mousetrap, had snatched at it
without a moment’s hesitation or thought for her feelings.
Apparently self-interest motivated most people to act in the
way mat they did.

If she had acted in her own self-interest, thought Thea,
she would have accepted Lord Cardiff’s offer and not even told him about her great-aunt. But she had resisted tempta
tion and her character was the better for it.

It was astonishing how disgruntled Thea felt with her
own unselfish conduct.

As Lord Cardiff had promised, Mr. Thatcher Owen’s
domicile was reached before the dinner hour. Though Thea had given her uncle’s direction to Lord Cardiff’s
coachman, they had to stop twice to inquire the way because
of the confusion of the winding country roads. At one point
the coachman expressed some concern to Lord Cardiff
about the lowering weather. Tiny snowflakes had begun to
fall and were beginning to powder the hedgerows and rutted
road. It would not be long before there would be a blanket
of white covering all.

“Unless I miss my guess, it’ll come real snow and perhaps
ice, too, before many more hours, m’lord.”

“Yes, I know,” said Cardiff, casting a considering glance
up at the thin, bluish clouds. He gathered the horse’s reins be
tween stiff gloved fingers, preparing to start on the way
again. His breath frosted densely on the air. “I only hope the weather holds until tomorrow so that we may get well on our
way. I’ve no wish to be stranded on these obscure roads by a sudden snowstorm.”

“Aye, nor I,” agreed John Coachman. “At least there’s not
a wind to blow it into a man’s eyes. We’ll be able to see all right until nightfall.”

The gentle snow quietly continued to fall. It never swirled
but simply fell to lie glistening under the obscured sun. The
winter barrenness of the brown ground was eventually
cloaked from sight. Glancing frequently out of the window,
Thea thought she had rarely seen anything so beautiful as the
transformation of the dreary countryside into a glittering
winter wonderland. Of course, it was cold inside the carriage.
The bricks had lost their heat, and her feet were beginning to feel like icy blocks. However, she imagined that it was much colder for Lord Cardiff in the saddle, and so she made up her
mind not to regard the chilliness too much.

It was an hour more before the carriage turned in through
an elaborately designed metal gate. Thea sat well forward, al
most pressing her face against the glass in her anxiousness
for her first glimpse of her uncle’s home. The graveled drive
was long and wound through an avenue of graceful silver birch until it emerged before a modest manor house.

The late afternoon sun slanted across the leafless tops of
the tall, dappled birch, shedding a mellow light onto the
walls of the manor. The grounds were well kept and the snow-powdered vines covering one side of the manor were
neatly trimmed away from the large-paned glass windows. Thea was encouraged by the manor’s friendly appearance.
Surely the residents of such a welcoming aspect would prove
to be hospitable.

The carriage slowed, then jolted to a stop. Thea waited ex
pectantly. The door was unlatched and opened. Cardiff
looked up at Thea and held up his gloved hand in invitation.
“Pray allow me to help you, Miss Stafford. The iron step is icy and could be treacherous.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Thea gathered her cloak and skirt
up in one hand so that she would not trip over the hems. She
drew a steadying breath because her heart was pounding heavily. Now that the telling moment had arrived, she was feeling trepidation at the enormity of what she had under
taken. She had only vague memories of her uncle and aunt.
She had really no notion of either their characters or their in
clinations. It was not as though she was a beloved niece and therefore confident of her reception.

Thea gave her hand into Lord Cardiff’s firm grasp and
stepped down out of the carriage, her reticule swinging on its
strings from her wrist. She remembered the letter from her
great-aunt which she had put in her reticule and felt slightly
better. Surely Mrs. Partridge’s letter would help her cause.

Thea alighted to the ground and waited while Lord
Cardiff politely turned and helped down the maid also. The
young woman turned red at the unlooked-for attention.

Lord Cardiff’s groom had run lightly up the icy stone
steps and rung the bell. When the heavy front door opened,
the groom gave a slim white card to the butler and held a
short conversation with him. Watching anxiously from be
side the carriage, Thea thought she saw amazement cross the
butler’s face.

The gravel crunched underfoot as Lord Cardiff came up
beside Miss Stafford and drew her hand through his elbow.
He felt the quivering of her gloved fingers and gave them a reassuring squeeze. When she looked up, he smiled down into her darkened, worried eyes. “Courage, Miss Stafford.”

She nodded and straightened her shoulders. “I am quite ready, my lord,” she said quietly.

“That’s the spirit,” said Cardiff approvingly.

Thea and Lord Cardiff walked up the steps, through the open door, and into the warmth of the manor. They were re
ceived in the wide entry hall by the butler, supported by a
footman. The servants took their outer garments before the
butler politely ushered them through a polished paneled door
into a side parlor.

The chambermaid who had accompanied Thea on the
journey had followed her new mistress into the house, and
she stood staring around her with rounded eyes until she was told by the footman to take one of the chairs in the entry hall. The woman hastily seated herself, nervously perching on the
edge of the embroidered seat cushion.

The butler assured the unexpected visitors that he would
announce them. He stepped backward, and the door closed
softly. Lord Cardiff and Thea were left on their own. Thea
did not know what to do. She supposed she ought to sit down
on one of the expensively covered silk-striped sofas, as
though she was a normal visitor, but she was too keyed up to
do so. She smoothed the edges of her cloak in a telling ges
ture.

Cardiff strolled casually around the parlor, taking note of
the tasteful modern furnishings and the fact that a well-lit fire
was quietly radiating heat from the stone hearth even though
the room had not been in immediate use. These things told him that Mr. Thatcher Owen was neither parsimonious nor
poverty-stricken, and that was a point in the gentleman’s
favor. Perhaps Mr. Owen would be discovered to be as generous towards a scarcely known niece as he was with his
household accounts. He did not air his speculations, how
ever, because he did not wish to give Miss Stafford the im
pression that he had ever held doubts about her chances. “It is a finely appointed room,” he commented.

Thea nodded, casting a nervous glance about her. “Yes, it is. My lord, I am afraid that I may have made a mistake in coming. I—I have not seen my uncle in many years. He cannot have retained affection for me, and I see now that I have
assumed too much.”

Cardiff shook his head, flashing a reassuring smile. “You
have not made a mistake, Miss Stafford. Rather, you have
taken a calculated risk. They are not quite the same things. If your uncle is a gentleman of proper family feeling, then you
shall have gained what you set out to do.”

“I trust that you are correct, my lord,” said Thea, sum
moning up a smile in her turn. She could not completely hide
the worry in her eyes, however.

Cardiff could see her apprehension, which was only nat
ural under the circumstances, but he tried to reassure her the best that he could. “Remember, Miss Stafford, whatever hap
pens, I will stand your friend. If it does not fall out the way
that you hope, then we shall fall back onto my original intent
and be wed as soon as I may contrive it.”

Thea felt her throat close up. She was ashamed of her own
earlier thoughts regarding his lordship’s self-interested moti
vation. He was still willing to subjugate his own desires to
the call of honor, if her welfare could not be attained in any
other way. Lord Cardiff was most truly a gentleman, and she
doubted she would ever find another who could measure up
to him. In a low voice, she said, “My lord, you do me too
much honor.”

Cardiff shrugged and gave a short laugh. She obviously
had no inkling of the warmer emotion that had begun to steal
into his heart. He made no reply, however, deeming it un
necessary. He went over to stand angled in front of the fire, hoping that the warmth would ease the cramping ache in his
shoulder. God, he was tired. He was not as fit as he had
thought himself if a simple day’s ride in the cold could affect
him to such an extent.

Thea saw that Lord Cardiff was staring down at the crack
ling flames, his expression withdrawn. There was a tightness about his mobile mouth that prohibited her from addressing
him. Thea sat down in a wing chair that was close to the
hearth. There was no point in standing in awkward silence when she could be comfortable and thaw her feet.

It was not many minutes before the parlor was opened. A
tall, stooped man entered with a quick step. Thea nervously
jumped up from the chair, clasping the back of it for support.
She looked anxiously at the elderly gentleman and was
somewhat relieved when she found she recognized him.

Mr. Owen possessed a shock of thick white hair, which
appeared striking above grizzled brows and heavy-lidded
brown eyes. There was a frowning expression in his dark
eyes, and his mouth was held in firm lines. He was attired in
the usual frock coat, trousers and boots of the country gentleman. A singularly beautiful emerald set in a gold signet ring
graced his left hand.

Still holding the brass doorknob with one hand, Mr. Owen
stood aside to usher in a plump matron of indeterminate
years. The lady was attired with exquisite taste in a dove gray
day gown that had obviously come from the hands of a su
perior modiste, and she carried an expensive Norwich silk
shawl draped over her elbows. Sapphires gleamed in the
lady’s ears and about her neck.

Thea did not remember her aunt, but when she met the
lady’s bright blue gaze, she felt a knot loosen inside her.
There was kindness and speculation in her aunt’s expression.

Thea did not quail as strongly at the thought of appealing to
these relations who were virtually strangers to her

Mr. Owen did not look at once in Thea’s direction, but in
stead held out his hand towards Lord Cardiff, who had
straightened and turned at the elderly couple’s entrance. “My lord! I am honored to make your acquaintance. You may imagine my surprise when your card was brought in. I have
read of your exploits many times in the dispatches.”

Thea glanced quickly at Lord Cardiff. She had not known
before that he had been mentioned in the dispatches. That
meant his lordship had been commended for his bravery and
attention to duty. She was really unsurprised to discover it,
for Lord Cardiff had always seemed to her to possess heroic qualities in plenty.

Cardiff left the hearth and walked forward to shake hands
with Mr. Owen. He smiled with the warmth of his easy
charm. “I am only glad that you agreed to receive me, Mr.
Owen.”

“There was never any question of that, my lord.”

Mr. Owen drew forward his wife and formally introduced
her. Mrs. Owen graciously acknowledged his lordship, before turning her smile towards the young lady still standing
uncertainly beside a wing chair and clutching the top of its
curved back for support. “I believe we have another interest
ing guest besides his lordship, Mr. Owen.”

“Quite,” said Mr. Owen, his voice expressing nothing but polite civility.

Cardiff smiled encouragingly at Thea as she took a hesitant step forward. He held out his hand to her and when she
laid hers in his, drew her up to join them. “Allow me to pre
sent your niece, Miss Thea Stafford. I have escorted her to you at her own request.”

“Indeed!” said Mrs. Owen with an inflection of surprise
and curiosity.

Mr. Owen had finally turned his frowning gaze on Thea,
only to stare more closely at her. A strange expression flick
ered across his face. “My God! The resemblance is un
canny!” he said hoarsely.