The Fleeing Heiress: A funny flight into love.

by Buck, Gayle

  Mr. Stafford’s expression grew grim again as his mouth tightened. “Your foolish sister begs me to consider my decision 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 mistress 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 pigheaded, 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, surprised 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 conciliating. “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 acceptable 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 shoulders, 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 father’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 particularity 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 distress, Thomas’s eyes never wavered from his father’s stolid figure, and neither did Philip’s.

  Aware that the entire company was watching and listening, 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 handshake. “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.

  Mrs. Owen smiled and inclined her head. “This is good news, indeed. Is it not, Thatcher?”

  “Better than I expected,” said Mr. Owen, adding hastily at his spouse’s swift reproving glance, “I am happy for it, of course.”

  “Now that we have everything so nicely settled, let me offer suggestions for what diversions we can offer to everyone until the weather breaks,” said Mrs. Owen. Her guests all entered willingly into their hostess’s efforts to amuse them, most of them relieved that the unpleasantness of the last hour appeared to be over.

  Philip and Thomas in particular became quite animated when the notion of setting up a billiards tournament was set forth, and they immediately began to devise the rules.

  When the opportunity offered, Cardiff drew aside with Miss Stafford. He looked keenly into her face, searching for signs of stress and finding none. He had noted long since how attractive she appeared when attired in a gown from her own wardrobe, but just then he was more interested in what he might read in her expressive eyes. “Is everything as well as it appears, Miss Stafford?” he asked quietly.

  “Indeed, my lord, it is. I am reconciled to my father and brothers, and my father is reconciled to the idea of my residing with my uncle and aunt,” said Thea. With a twinkle in her eyes, she said teasingly, “I trust that you are reconciled to closer intimacy with my family, my lord. I doubt the weather will miraculously turn mellow and allow you to make good your escape.”

  “Let us rather say that I am resigned, Miss Stafford,” said Cardiff with a swift smile. She laughed and moved away at some demand from her brothers. He watched her, his smile lingering on his face. He had not changed his opinion. She was a rare young lady, courageous and intelligent and resilient. He decided that he admired her more than any other lady of his broad acquaintance. At that moment if someone had uttered Miss Cummings’s name, he would have had difficulty bringing the lady’s face into focus.

  The next two days were pleasant enough, and if there was still at times some stiffness between Mr. Stafford and Mr. Owen, at least it was not open warfare. Thea even entertained hopes that the two elderly gentlemen might eventually come to amicable terms. However, she realized her optimism was such that it led her to look for an end to the long-standing feud far sooner than
it could be reasonably expected. Her aunt had taken Thea into her confidence and told her niece that the furious disagreement had arisen out of some investments gone awry and many accusations flying back and forth.

  The billiards tournament was a grand success, especially since it involved even Thea and stretched over several hours. Mrs. Owen elected to remain a neutral party and graced the proceedings with her placid presence and ever-present tatting needles. By the time the winner was declared, which happened to be Thomas, she had tatted a wide skein of lace that she announced was her nephew’s prize. Mrs. Owen bestowed the long piece of lace around Thomas’s neck with all the solemn pomp attending a medieval tournament of skill, and there was a spontaneous burst of applause. Thomas reddened with gratification and gave a clumsy but well-meant speech, which engendered laughter and good-natured ribbing from Cardiff and his brother.

  The Stafford brothers challenged Lord Cardiff to another round of billiards and he accepted, at once announcing that he was choosing Mr. Stafford for his own partner. At the elderly gentleman’s surprised reaction, he grinned and with a humorous look in his eyes, said, “I trust you to keep these two jackanapes in line, sir!”

  Mr. Stafford chuckled. “Aye, that I can set myself to do, my lord!”

  “Well! I have seldom participated in or witnessed a better tournament,” said Mr. Owen, sitting down beside his wife on a sofa. “But I own, I have had my fill of billiards for a while.”

  “Oh, I completely agree,” said Mrs. Owen placidly. “However, you need not feel at loose ends, my dear. We have the backgammon board to while away the time. Thea, I suspect your uncle would like a rematch.”

  “Indeed! You trounced me finely yesterday, but I daresay I shall give you a lesson today,” declared Mr. Owen.

  Thea chuckled. “Why, uncle, I believe you have issued a challenge!”

  Mr. Owen growled that he had and suggested that his niece set up the board at once. She did so and they took chairs on opposite sides of a game table. The hours passed by in pleasant conversation, billiards and backgammon.

  When the dinner hour came round, the company was in a better humor than on the previous afternoon. From her place seated at the table, Thea looked up and down the expanse of the snowy white linen that covered the table, and her heart overflowed with gratitude. She had not dared to hope for such harmony in such a short time.

  “A penny for them.”

  Thea turned her head with a quick smile for Lord Cardiff. Her dark blue eyes sparkled. “My lord! I fear my thoughts are not for sale for such a paltry sum as that!”

  “What sum would you take for them, then? For I am willing to pay any reasonable amount,” said Cardiff, his own smile glinting at her.

  Thea shook her head and chuckled. “No, I dare not set a price, for then I would be forced to reveal my thoughts. What of you, my lord? What price would you set for your own reflections?”

  “An evening listening to you playing the pianoforte would suffice for any number of my rambling thoughts,” said Cardiff swiftly.

  An unconsciously provocative light entered Thea’s eyes. Smiling, she said, “Very well, Lord Cardiff! You have bought your musicale this evening. Now, tell me! What of your thoughts?”

  Cardiff’s smile faded as he looked into her lovely face. “My dear Miss Stafford, if I told you exactly what I was thinking, it would undoubtedly bring a blush to your charming cheek.”

  Thea pinkened, her own imagination supplying a few interesting possibilities. She lowered her lashes, suddenly unable to meet the warmth of his lordship’s gaze. “I—I fear that I am not as intrepid as I had supposed, my lord.”

  “Why, Miss Stafford, do you shrink at knowing my thoughts?” asked Cardiff softly. Beneath the cover of the table he caught her fingers in his hand. “I was but recalling the dance we shared.”

  Thea blushed even more furiously. She snatched her hand away, scarcely knowing what to make of Lord Cardiff’s overture. If he was merely flirting with her, as she half suspected, it was very disturbing to her equilibrium. She was relieved when her brother Philip, seated on the other side of her, addressed her and she could safely turn away from Lord Cardiff and his unnerving presence.

  A few minutes later, however, Philip’s interest was caught by something his uncle said, and Thea was once more left to Lord Cardiff’s attentions. She kept her face averted, at once hoping and dreading that his lordship would say something else disconcerting to her.

  “Forgive me, Miss Stafford. I am used to flirtation and I forgot for a moment that you are not,” said Cardiff quietly. “My only excuse is that I have grown so comfortable with you that I felt no awkwardness in indulging in a lighthearted repartee.”

  Thea looked at him and could not help responding with a smile to his somber expression. “My lord, it is not of such great moment, after all! I am just a foolish miss, and it is I who should beg your pardon!”

  “I do not think you foolish at all,” said Cardiff swiftly. “You are both lovely and intelligent and a man such as I could easily become intoxicated by your company. You are blushing again! I meant to do nothing more than explain myself and I have put you out of countenance once more!”

  “Perhaps it would be best if we were to change the subject,” said Thea breathlessly. “What should I play on the pianoforte?”

  “I should like to hear that same air again,” murmured Cardiff, with a queer smile playing over his mobile lips.

  Thea knew instantly to which piece he was referring. He did not even need to hum it this time. “You are utterly impossible, my lord,” retorted Thea with a deliberate frown. However, her heart was pounding loudly and she could only regard the remainder of the evening with a happiness singing through her veins. She would certainly play that particular air again, as many times as Lord Cardiff wished. Surely he meant something by his request, she thought giddily. Surely he did!

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Before morning it had snowed again. It was not a heavy fall, however, and the sky began to clear. The world was pristine white, glistening in the morning sun. It looked as though the weather had turned at last and that it would hold, at least for a day or two. By the time the breakfast covers had been removed, Cardiff decided that it was time to take his leave of the Owens, however pleasant his visit had become.

  Cardiff informed his host, with properly expressed regret, that he had to take his leave that morning. “I fear the weather may yet take another turn, delaying my return to London where I have been expected these past several days,” he said regretfully.

  He was surprised by how much he did regret the necessity of leaving the manor. Most particularly, he regretted that he would not be able to enjoy again the same stunning performance that he had listened to the previous evening, when Miss Stafford had consented to entertain the company with another sample of her passionate expertise at the keyboard. He had once more felt himself transported by her melodies to some magical plane where passion and music melded into a whole. Music had always moved him, but never more so than those instances when Miss Stafford played. He firmly set aside the train of his thoughts because his host was responding and he wished to appear civilly interested in what the gentleman was saying.

  “If it came on to snow heavily again, you would be marooned for perhaps another week,” agreed Mr. Owen. “And though I could wish for nothing better than your continued company, I perfectly understand your desire to meet your obligations, my lord.”

  Mrs. Owens also expressed her regret that Lord Cardiff could not remain with them longer, but she also said she understood. “We shall miss you, of course, Lord Cardiff. You have become a very welcome guest.”

  “And I have come to count you and Mr. Owen among my friends,” said Cardiff with an elegant bow.

  Mrs. Owen smiled and nodded in acknowledgment of his lordship’s civil compliment. Privately, she thought that his lordship’s leave-taking probably had as much to do with his lack of his own personal servant and clean shirt as it was with meeting his
obligations. However, she was too gracious to place a guest in an uncomfortable position by taxing him about such matters. She also believed Lord Cardiff had grown impatient, once the perceived responsibility he had felt towards Miss Stafford was relinquished. His lordship was not unnaturally eager to resume his former unobstructed journey.

  Mrs. Owen had closely observed her niece’s face when Lord Cardiff announced his intention to leave. She had seen the instant of dismay in Thea’s expression, which was swiftly covered by a look of civil interest. It was just as Mrs. Owen had feared, and she felt every sympathy for her niece. However, she was proud that Thea did not wear her heart on her sleeve.

  Strangely enough, it was Thomas and Philip Stafford who were the most vocal in their disappointment that Lord Cardiff was leaving. They had come to look upon his lordship as a friend. “Perhaps we shall see you again, my lord,” said Philip.

  “Yes, and quite soon,” said Thomas, nodding with a sly grin on his face. His brother kicked him and he yowled, turning a wounded countenance on Philip.

  Their father admonished the young gentlemen for their wayward manners. Mr. Stafford then turned to Lord Cardiff. “I cannot thank you enough for what you did for my Thea, my lord,” he said gruffly.

  “It was my pleasure, sir,” said Cardiff with an easy smile.

  Within an hour of his announcement, Cardiff took leave of his host and hostess. The Owens had come into the entry hall to see him off, accompanied by their niece. Mr. Stafford and his sons were also in attendance, again expressing their regret at Lord Cardiff’s leaving. They tactfully exited so that Lord Cardiff could express himself more fully to his host and hostess.

  Cardiff did not see any point in delaying his adieus. His decision had been made and he was not one to procrastinate. Already his lordship’s carriage was at the ready outside. The butler stood waiting to open the front door.