by Buck, Gayle
The lady readily agreed and quickly picked up a cloak and beaded reticule from a wing chair. The cloak folded over her arm and the reticule dangling from her wrist, she turned. “I am ready, sir.”
Lord Cardiff raised a brow, showing his surprise. “Is that all you have, ma’am? Have you not a portmanteau or trunk or a bandbox, at least?”
The lady shook her head. “It is as I told you, sir. I was abducted—and straight off the village street, at that! I haven’t even a hairbrush with me.” She seemed to find the lack of such a mundane article to be particularly repugnant.
“It would seem Mr. Quarles was a very poor planner,” said Lord Cardiff with a glint of humor.
The lady looked at him quickly, and the barest quiver of a smile touched her lips. “Yes, I fear that he was,” she agreed.
The innkeeper himself answered the vigorous summons, not best pleased to receive such from this particular parlor. He had drawn his own conclusions about the party that had taken it. The innkeeper’s eyes widened with dismay at the sight of the large gentleman sprawled senseless on the plank floor. He looked swiftly to Lord Cardiff for an explanation. “M’lord! What is this?”
At Lord Cardiff’s brief explanation, the innkeeper shook his head. “Terrible doings, m’lord! A scandal is what it is. I suspicioned something of the like when I was told of the gentleman’s insistence that his horses be readied at break of day and how he spurned the offer of breakfast. The lack of proper baggage set me to wondering, too.”
“You are to be commended for your sagacity, mine host. I would take it most kindly if you would refuse to house the gentleman tonight. And for your generosity in agreeing to my wishes, I shall myself pay for this parlor and its adjoining bedchamber in addition to my own accommodations,” said Lord Cardiff, bringing his purse out of his capacious coat pocket.
The innkeeper accepted a few coins. “It shall be just as your lordship wishes,” he said, bowing. “I’ll send my waiters and the ostler up to escort the gentleman out to his carriage.” He stepped into the hallway and sent up a shout for his employees.
“It seems that our Mr. Quarles is stirring,” said Lord Cardiff, observing the man’s twitching, moaning form with an experienced glance. “It would be best, I think, if he does not see either of us when he opens his eyes.”
With a hand under the lady’s elbow, he politely steered her from the room and across the hall into his own parlor. Just before he closed the door, Lord Cardiff called to the innkeeper. “When you have satisfactorily concluded the gentleman’s business, pray send up a supper tray for the lady.”
“Aye, m’lord.” The innkeeper was now reinforced by his retainers, and the four men purposefully went into the room that Cardiff and the lady had just vacated. Mr. Quarles had groggily gotten to his knees and was attempting to drag himself up onto his feet, using the comer of the table for support.
Lord Cardiff quietly closed the door, shutting out most of the ensuing noise of bawled protests and the banging sounds of determined ejection. With a soft chuckle, he turned towards his chance-met companion.
The lady had crossed the room to the fireplace. She stood looking across at him, with one gloved hand laid on the corner of the mantel as though for support. There was an expression of mingled dismay and speculation in her exceptionally dark blue eyes.
Lord Cardiff returned her stare with a sudden glint of a smile. “What now, fair lady? Have I trespassed in some way? Was I perhaps too forward in ordering supper for you?”
“Of course not. I am exceedingly hungry. It is just that I do not know you and you have been so kind and now I discover you are someone of importance,” said the lady, in a somewhat tangled explanation of her thoughts.
Lord Cardiff burst out laughing. “I am not so very important as you seem to think. My name is David Cardiff and I am a soldier, home in England on wounded leave.” He pulled out a chair from the table and gestured invitingly. “Pray, won’t you be seated, ma’am? And whom do I have the honor of rescuing this evening?”
The lady flushed. “I am Miss Thea Stafford. My family resides in the next county outside a small village whose name you probably would not know even if I told it to you.”
She had come forward to the table as she spoke and thanked Lord Cardiff when he politely seated her.
Miss Stafford watched the handsome gentleman curiously as he poured out two glasses of wine. He appeared to have some difficulty in decanting the bottle, so she thought it must have been stoppered too tightly. “I haven’t thanked you properly, my lord. Your intervention was truly a God-sent miracle. I do not know exactly what I would have done if you had not come into the room just then.”
“I am happy to have been of service,” said Cardiff with easy aplomb. He handed one of the glasses of wine to her and then sat down at the table with his own. He smiled at her reassuringly. “It is not a lady’s bouquet, I fear, but you have sustained a shock and it might help to fortify you.”
“You said that you were on wounded leave, my lord?” asked Thea politely, taking a careful sip of the wine. His lordship had spoken truly. It was a heavier bouquet than she was used to and she suspected that she could become lightheaded very easily if she were to imbibe too much on an empty stomach. However, the wine did leave a warm feeling as it went down her throat.
“Yes, I was hit with a piece of shrapnel. It was nothing too serious, but enough for me to be sent home. I have been visiting friends in the country and am now returning to London to finish a bit of business, before I return to my regiment in Spain,” said Cardiff. He offered the explanation in a friendly manner, but he had no intention of making more of it than he already had.
Thea would have liked to inquire more fully into his lordship’s experiences, for she had a lively interest in the course of the war that was raging on the continent. Her brothers were army-mad and their interest had piqued her own. However, it was obvious to her in Lord Cardiff’s brief answer that he preferred not to elaborate on himself. “I see,” she said.
“And what of you, Miss Stafford? How is it possible that you could have been abducted in the middle of the village street?” asked Cardiff, probing gently for her story. “Surely someone took notice and set up a hue and cry?”
“You would think so, indeed, my lord, except that Mr. Quarles and I are known to be well acquainted,” said Thea, replying to the last point. She saw by Lord Cardiff’s well-bred expression of surprise that she had startled him. A faint color rose in her cheeks. “I shall have to explain it to you. Mr. Quarles is betrothed to my elder sister.”
As Thea recalled her experience, her eyes flashed again with renewed outrage and darkened in shade almost to black. “It was the most outrageous thing imaginable. I had been visiting with my old governess, who resides now in the village with another family. When I had taken leave of her, Mr. Quarles happened to come by in his carriage—or so he said! In any event, he offered me and my maid a lift home and like a dolt, I accepted. I had no inkling what he planned.”
“I suppose since the gentleman is betrothed to your sister that you would naturally trust him,” remarked Cardiff, watching her expressive face.
“Yes, I was never so taken in my life,” said Thea. “I am glad that you hit him, for it is just what I wished to do.”
“I believe you mentioned that you had your maid with you when Mr. Quarles sprang his dastardly trap. What happened to her?” asked Cardiff, curious about this missing detail from her story.
“Mr. Quarles forced her to disembark from the carriage just as we reached the outskirts of the village,” said Thea matter-of-factly. She glanced at Lord Cardiff. “He did not wish to have her along.”
“No, I imagine it is rather difficult to manage an abduction and elopement even without the addition of the lady’s maid,” said Cardiff dryly.
Thea’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, indeed, my lord. Mr. Quarles had never heard such blistering denouncements as my good Hitchins laid upon him. And I was not behind in my own recriminations.”
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Cardiff laughed, easily imagining the scene. “I have little doubt that he began to feel regret for his scheme from that moment.
The door opened and the innkeeper entered, followed by a waiter carrying a tray. “My compliments to the lady, m’lord, and I have brought just what I thought might appeal. A fresh pot of tea with a bit of cold mutton and bread, a bowl of barley soup and one of the missus’s dried-apple tarts.”
Cardiff glanced inquiringly at his companion. “Miss Stafford?”
She nodded, saying with a smile, “It sounds heavenly. Thank you!”
The innkeeper directed the waiter to set out Miss Stafford’s supper, but himself poured the tea, stirring in the amounts of cream and sugar requested by the lady.
“Is that little matter concerning a certain unpleasant gentleman taken care of, mine host?” asked Cardiff idly. He swirled the wine in his glass as though his query was of a matter of only the most casual interest to him.
The innkeeper gave a grim smile. “Indeed, m’lord. We’ve a few bruises amongst us, for the gentleman did not take kindly to the notion of travel this late in the day. Howsomever, he was persuaded that the inn in the next village would be more to his liking.”
“Well done. Miss Stafford will naturally require a decent girl to see to her needs and stay with her tonight in her bedchamber,” said Cardiff, nodding in the direction of the rooms across the hall.
Comprehension lit the innkeeper’s expression. He bowed deeply, approving of his lordship’s foresight. “Aye, m’lord. I shall see to it.”
When the innkeeper and waiter had withdrawn, Thea calmly set about consuming her dinner and drinking her tea. She felt no nervousness at partaking of an unchaperoned dinner. Thea had not the least apprehension that Lord Cardiff would suddenly materialize into a ravening beast in the privacy of the parlor. His lordship had already proven himself to her to be the perfect gentleman. After all, he had rescued her from just such fearsome company less than an hour past.
“I do not wish to pry, but I am still a bit curious, Miss Stafford,” said Cardiff. “If Mr. Quarles is betrothed to your sister, how comes it that he eloped with you? Has he tendre for you, perhaps?”
“Certainly not!” Miss Stafford spoke quickly, emphatically. She gave a doleful sigh. “It is really most lowering, my lord. Mr. Quarles informed me that he has financial embarrassments that are becoming pressing. He seized upon marriage to me as a way to stave off immediate disaster.”
“I do not perfectly understand,” said Cardiff, his brows contracting slightly. “Does not your sister have a dowry?”
“Oh, yes, as do I. But now circumstances are somewhat changed,” said Thea with another sigh. “You see, my godmother died eleven months ago and left me a small fortune. I am in the melancholy position of being an heiress, Lord Cardiff.”
“Are you? Well, I can certainly understand how depressing it would be to find oneself in such a deplorable circumstance,” said Cardiff, tongue in cheek but speaking perfectly gravely. “But one must accustom oneself to the disagreeable reality, after all.”
Thea burst out laughing. Her eyes danced. “Oh, I did not mean it that way! Of course I am glad that my godmother left me an heiress. But it has made it all very awkward, has it not? After all, Mr. Quarles would never have conceived of such a ridiculous plot otherwise.” A sobering thought occurred to her, and she caught her underlip between her white teeth in a worried fashion. “Whatever am I to say to my sister Tabitha?”
“I scarcely think that you shall be blamed for this contretemps, Miss Stafford,” said Cardiff, rather amused.
Thea solemnly regarded him for a moment. Then, with a small laugh, she said, “Perhaps you are right, my lord. I shall hope so, at all events.”
The parlor door opened and Lord Cardiff’s valet entered, soft-footed as always. Not for the first time, Cardiff marveled at his manservant’s capability to enter or leave a room so unobtrusively.
“Ah, Potter! Allow me to present Miss Stafford. I was able to render her a small service, and in return she consented to take her supper with me,” said Cardiff mildly. His gleaming eyes quizzed his manservant.
The valet made a respectful bow to the lady, but addressed his lordship. “So I was given to understand below-stairs, my lord,” he said with a small smile. “The innkeeper sends a message by me that a suitable abigail has been found for Miss Stafford and has been sent up to the lady’s bedchamber.”
“Then I should say good night and retire now, my lord,” said Thea, laying aside her napkin and rising at once from the table. She held out her hand. Very seriously, she said, “I must thank you again, my lord.”
Lord Cardiff rose with her. He stepped around the corner of the table to clasp her extended hand. “I was only too happy to exert myself on your behalf, Miss Stafford. In the morning, we shall put our heads together over breakfast and decide what is best to be done. I assume that your absence will have been some cause for alarm by now?”
“Undoubtedly, my lord. My good Hitchins would have made her way back home before nightfall, and my father is not one to let things arrange themselves through indecision,” said Thea with an odd smile.
“I trust that your mother will not be thrown into too much anxiety before you reach home again,” said Cardiff politely.
“My mother died some years ago, my lord.”
“I am sorry.”
“It was a long time ago, my lord. I do not regard it any longer.”
As they were talking, Cardiff had escorted her to the parlor door and opened it for her. “Then we must rely upon Mr. Stafford. Perhaps all that will be required will be a short wait for your parent to arrive.”
Thea realized what his lordship was proposing and instantly she demurred. “Oh, there is not the least need for you to set out late on your own journey tomorrow on my account!”
“I would consider it strange, indeed, if I should leave you alone and without protection in this hostel, Miss Stafford. What if Mr. Quarles should take it into his head to double back here in the morning, in hopes of discovering you still here and without protection?” said Cardiff.
It was apparent that Miss Stafford had not considered that possibility. She glanced up and down the hallway in faint alarm, almost as though she expected the unwanted gentleman to suddenly materialize out of the shadows.
Thea looked up at Lord Cardiff and nodded. “Very well, my lord. I admit that I should be grateful for your continued protection until my father catches up with me.”
Satisfied, Cardiff lifted her slender hand to his lips. “Good night, Miss Stafford.”
“Good night, my lord.”
He watched her safely enter her own door before turning back into his own apartment. As Cardiff closed the door, the valet, who had silently effaced himself after delivering the innkeeper’s message, reappeared from the bedroom.
“I heard a tale belowstairs that the gentleman who abducted the young lady was laid out senseless on the carpet, my lord,” said the valet, wooden-faced. “I trust you took no hurt, my lord?”
Cardiff made a pretense of covering a yawn. The effect was somewhat spoiled when he flinched slightly from the sharp stab of pain in his shoulder as he lifted his arm. With a resigned sigh, he said, “All right, Potter. I admit it. I shall need you to help me out of my coat, after all.”
Immediately the valet came forward, eyeing his lordship somewhat anxiously. “The shoulder, my lord?”
“It hurts like hell,” said Cardiff frankly, grimacing. “But it was a beautiful body blow, Potter. I don’t in the least regret it.”
“No, my lord, of course not.” The valet solicitously eased off the well-cut, tight-fitting coat.
Cardiff turned and narrowed a hard stare on his manservant. “And I do not need to be coddled, Potter.”
“Of course not, my lord.”
Chapter Three
The next morning Miss Stafford joined Lord Cardiff in his private parlor for breakfast. She had made the best she could of her appearan
ce, having put back on her walking dress after some of the wrinkles had been shaken out. The chambermaid provided by the innkeeper was not an experienced lady’s maid, but she had found a comb and drawn it through Miss Stafford’s hair before pinning it up very credibly.
Despite all of her intentions otherwise, Thea greeted Lord Cardiff with some restraint. They had come to be on rather easy terms the evening before, due to the unusual circumstances of their meeting, but a night’s reflection had pointed up to her all the embarrassment of her present situation. She was naturally grateful for Lord Cardiff’s intervention in what had been a very ugly and frightening scene. However, Thea’s original realization that he was obviously someone of importance had begun to loom large in her thoughts, and she was persuaded that her affairs were a nuisance to him. Despite his polite demeanor, Lord Cardiff could not be pleased that she was still hanging on his sleeve, as it were.
Something of the disturbance of her thoughts must have been reflected in Thea’s manner because once the waiter had retired, Cardiff smiled at her across the table and said, “You need not be anxious, Miss Stafford. I shall endeavor to see you properly restored to the bosom of your family.”
“That is not precisely the root of my anxiety, my lord,” said Thea with characteristic frankness. “While I do appreciate your intention, as well as your protection, I do not wish to burden you any longer with my troubles. I realize that you must have pressing appointments and—“
“My appointments will keep for a day or two,” said Cardiff cheerfully. “As I told you, I am enjoying wounded leave.”
