by Buck, Gayle
“But what of your business in London?” asked Thea.
“Ah, there is that, of course.” A curious glint came into his lordship’s eyes, accompanied by a slight smile.
Thea suddenly gathered the impression that he was looking beyond her, recalling something of the recent past with satisfaction. The expression was as quickly gone, as Lord Cardiff focused his full attention on her again.
“Before I left my friends, I had the presence of mind to send a note ahead to London of my arrival. It will suffice to satisfy for a short time, so therefore I do not think a few hours’ delay of my journey will matter overmuch. There is no one who will greatly miss me,” said Cardiff in an easy voice.
Thea busied herself with putting marmalade on a piece of toast so that she did not have to meet his lordship’s eyes. Thea did not quite believe that a gentleman of Lord Cardiff’s obvious quality would not be missed, but she hesitated to say so. It was an awkward assertion to make, after all. She did not believe she was well enough acquainted with Lord Cardiff to make such a personal observation. It would almost make her sound as though she was toadeating him and that was repugnant to her. She did not know why, but it was of importance to her that Lord Cardiff think well of her.
“However, I assume it is quite otherwise with you, Miss Stafford. You indicated that your maid would have returned at once to your home. We may be confident, then, that your father must even now be on his way,” suggested Cardiff.
“Indeed, that is quite true, my lord. I only hope Hitchins was able to convince my father earlier rather than later of the truth of her story,” said Thea calmly.
“Is your maid given to odd flights of fancy, Miss Stafford?” asked Cardiff curiously.
“Of course not. It is just that—” Miss Stafford raised a suddenly rueful gaze. “My father is unimaginative, my lord. It is difficult at times to persuade him to accept an opinion or notion that is foreign to him.”
“I see! Then you are anxious that your father may have been reluctant to believe what your maid had to relate to him,” said Cardiff.
“My father’s skull is hard enough to withstand a hammer blow,” said Thea frankly.
Cardiff cocked an intelligent eyebrow. “Pigheaded, is he? I have served with an officer or two who were afflicted with the same complaint. They were very difficult to deal with.”
Thea laughed, even as color rose into her face. “I shouldn’t like to go so far as to call Papa pigheaded. He is difficult, of course, and—and obstinate. But he loves us all dearly and I know he would do anything in his power for us.”
Cardiff tactfully left off teasing Miss Stafford about her father’s intractable personality. “You are naturally referring to yourself and your sister?”
“And my two brothers,” said Thea, nodding. She hesitated as though just struck by a thought, before adding, “My brothers favor my father in their—their mannerisms. They are also ... obstinate. Quite truthfully, it has occurred to me to wonder at times whether they were dropped on their heads at birth.”
Miss Stafford’s pensive expression was such that Cardiff started to laugh. He covered his lapse in good manners at once with a feigned cough. “Indeed?” he asked politely.
Thea chortled, unable to keep back her own amusement. She regarded her companion with mock severity. “Lord Cardiff, I have the most lowering presentiment that it would be best if you did not meet any member of my family. I have painted you the worst possible picture of them.”
Cardiff laughed in earnest then. “Never fear, Miss Stafford! I am not one to form prejudices based on another’s spleen.”
“That was remarkably unhandsome of you, my lord,” said Thea with complete cordiality.
“I know it, but I could scarce resist when you had set the stage so beautifully,” said Cardiff apologetically.
“Quite true! I have maligned my poor relations most shamefully. And what of you, my lord? Have you also relations who cause you frustration and lead you to mortify yourself before complete strangers?” asked Thea brightly.
Cardiff laughed again.
His lordship’s mirth was cut short when the parlor door was thrust open with such force that it slammed against the wall behind it,
Cardiff leaped to his feet, surprised and angered by the rude intrusion. In an instant it flashed across his mind that Mr. Quarles had returned with blood in his eyes, as the saying went, but it was a stranger who stood on the threshold with his stolid feet planted wide.
“Well! This is a pretty state of affairs, upon my word! A private tête-à-tête!” exclaimed the stocky gentleman, his expression wrathful. His high-colored countenance and his dress proclaimed him to be an aging country squire. Behind him, glaring over his broad shoulders, were two ruddy-faced, burly young gentlemen.
With Miss Stafford’s colorful descriptions of her family so fresh to memory, Cardiff’s facile mind at once discerned the identity of the intruders. He tossed aside his napkin and in a leisurely fashion stepped away from the table. “Good morning, sir,” he said affably. “I assume that I address Mr. Stafford?”
“You do!” Mr. Stafford eyed him warily. “And who might you be, sirruh?”
Thea had jumped nearly out of her skin with the slamming open of the door. Now she also leaped up from her chair. “Papa!” she gasped, her face lighting up.
“Yes, it is I! You need not look so amazed, my girl. Did you think I would not follow after you to save your honor?” asked Mr. Stafford, stalking into the parlor. He was followed by the two young men, both of whom wore identical expressions of belligerence.
“Let me have him, Papa. I shall know what to do with him,” said one young man, doubling up an impressive fist.
“No! I am the eldest. By rights, I should have him first,” exclaimed the other swiftly.
The two young men glared at one another.
“The two brothers who favor their sire,” murmured Cardiff in a wicked aside to Miss Stafford.
Thea threw Lord Cardiff a glance of mingled ruefulness and reproach. She whispered, “That is ungallant of you, my lord!”
Cardiff sketched a bow, his eyes gleaming at her. “I am abashed, ma’am.”
“That I very much doubt,” retorted Thea. She had instinctively responded to Lord Cardiff’s laughing gaze and she marveled at herself. She was not so used to male company that such repartee should have been comfortable to her, but so it was in Lord Cardiff’s presence.
Mr. Stafford had been listening with but half an ear to the badinage between his daughter and the unknown gentleman. He looked purposefully around the empty parlor before settling his gaze on his daughter’s companion. His frown deepened.
“But this is not Quarles! I was given to understand that it was Quarles who had made off with you, Thea,” said Mr. Stafford, looking Lord Cardiff up and down with a great deal of suspicion and affront.
“So it was, Papa,” said Thea equitably. She gestured towards Lord Cardiff with a quick smile. “This is Lord Cardiff, who most kindly rescued me from Mr. Quarles’s unwelcome attentions. My lord, may I present to you my father.”
Cardiff nodded in a polite fashion. “I am glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Stafford.”
Mr. Stafford returned an automatic bow and grunted acknowledgement of the introduction. However, it was apparent his mind was preoccupied by other matters than the social niceties. “But where is Quarles? I do not understand, Thea. Your maid Hitchins insisted that it was Quarles who abducted you.”
“Indeed, it was Mr. Quarles who abducted me, Papa,” said Thea with admirable patience. “I just told you what happened. Lord Cardiff saved me from Mr. Quarles. His lordship hit Mr. Quarles and— ”
“Where is the blackguard? Come out, Quarles! I know you must be here! Come out, I say!” bellowed Mr. Stafford, glaring red-faced around the parlor. He turned on his sons. “Search for him, dolts!”
“But Papa, Mr. Quarles is not here,” said Thea. “If you would only listen to me for a moment—”
“Of cou
rse he is here! And we shall find him! Never fear!” snapped Mr. Stafford.
One of the two young men bent to peer under the table. The other twitched aside the long curtains and leaped back, fists raised, only to look disappointed when no cringing abductor was revealed.
“Quarles is not here, Papa,” reported one young man, and the other nodded.
“I don’t understand. Where is he, then?” asked Mr. Stafford irascibly.
“Papa, pray attend to me! Lord Cardiff saved me.”
“Am I not to be presented to the brothers?” asked Cardiff, enjoying the ludicrousness of the situation. He had already taken measure of the outraged father and that, coupled with Miss Stafford’s precious description of her relations, had aroused his sense of humor, which was never far from the surface.
Thea shot a glance of reproach at Lord Cardiff. It was really too bad of his lordship to interject when she was in the midst of an explanation to her parent. However, she saw at once that his lordship was deriving huge amusement at her expense and supposed that she had only herself to blame. After all, she had just moments before blithely characterized her father and brothers for Lord Cardiff.
“Philip and Thomas, Lord Cardiff,” said Thea rapidly. She took note that Lord Cardiff made a solemn bow to her brothers, who just as solemnly returned the courtesy. A bubble of laughter threatened to overcome her, but she sternly repressed it as she turned back to her father. “As I was saying, Papa –”
Mr. Stafford forestalled her by throwing up a wide palm. “You’ve said nothing to the purpose,” he said irascibly. “Either Quarles abducted you or he didn’t. And if he did, he should be here.”
“Mr. Quarles did abduct me, but he isn’t here now,” said Thea doggedly.
“Oh, and I suppose he apologized for his error and simply waltzed out?” asked Mr. Stafford with heavy sarcasm.
“Of course not! Papa, if you would but listen!”
“Come, Thea! I know well your soft heart. You fear what I shall do to him, but you needn’t protect him, for all he is betrothed to your sister,” said Mr. Stafford, more mildly.
“I am not protecting him, Papa!” exclaimed Thea, angry color climbing into her face.
“Then why isn’t Quarles where he is supposed to be? It makes no sense to me at all.”
“He isn’t here because Lord Cardiff hit him!” exclaimed Thea.
“Oh, is that the way of it? Why didn’t you say so at once?” said Mr. Stafford.
Thea threw up her hands, uttering an incomprehensible exclamation.
Mr. Stafford frowned. “That sounded just like something your maid Hitchins said, and I didn’t understand a word of it then, either!”
Cardiff kept his countenance only with difficulty. “Perhaps I should explain the situation, sir.”
“I wish you would, my lord! I have the greatest difficulty untangling what my daughter is saying,” said Mr. Stafford, throwing a disapproving glance at her. “I do not understand how you came to be entangled.”
With calm brevity, Cardiff outlined his involvement in Miss Stafford’s affairs since the evening before. He concluded, “I delayed my journey this morning against the possibility of Mr. Quarles’s return before your own arrival. That is all, sir.”
Mr. Stafford nodded. “That makes it clear enough.”
With some severity, he looked at his daughter. “I don’t understand why you could not have told me as plain a tale, Thea. Women are the same, whatever their station in life. They talk all around a subject and end by saying very little to the point. I had the devil’s own time making out what that maid of yours was trying to tell me. I trust that you have learned something out of this, daughter?”
“Yes, Papa,” said Thea on a resigned sigh. “I will try to do better in the future in communicating my thoughts to you.”
“See that you do.” His parental scold apparently at an end, Mr. Stafford turned once more to Lord Cardiff. He said gruffly, “It is obvious that I owe you many thanks, my lord. You have saved my daughter from an out-and-out scoundrel. I don’t hesitate to say it, betrothed though he may be to my older girl, Tabitha.”
“It is not necessary to thank me, sir. I was happy to be of service,” said Cardiff politely. He was already wondering how soon he could extricate himself from the happy family reunion and show the Staffords out the door. It would not be long before a servant would return to clear the breakfast table.
His valet had gone downstairs earlier to settle the bill and to make request for a sturdy waiter to carry down the baggage for whenever Lord Cardiff should wish to leave. The manservant would be returning soon and Cardiff felt an increasing impatience, now that Miss Stafford’s concerns were over, to be off on his journey as soon as possible.
During the past discussion the two Stafford brothers had preserved silence, listening with intent expressions to all that was said. Now one of them—Cardiff thought it was Philip—spoke up.
“This is all very well, Papa. But it doesn’t change the fact that Thea has been away all night. Everyone knows it. Her reputation is blasted.”
“There’s that, of course,” said Mr. Stafford slowly. He appeared to turn the problem over in his mind.
“All I wish for is to go home, Papa,” said Thea. She might as well not have said anything, as much heed as was paid her.
“Philip’s right, Papa. We’ve got to do something with Thea or the family will be utterly disgraced,” agreed the other brother.
“Nonsense!” said Thea roundly, embarrassed. Acutely aware of Lord Cardiff’s presence, she appealed to her father. “Papa, pray take me home now. Surely we can better discuss this matter in the privacy of our own walls.”
“My thoughts precisely,” murmured Cardiff, taking his pocket watch out and glancing at it. As he snapped the lid closed, he met Miss Stafford’s gaze. Her face was slightly flushed and she looked hurriedly away. It was obvious to the meanest intelligence that she was humiliated, and he felt sorry for her.
“We’ll have to marry her off,” said Mr. Stafford with sudden decision.
“Papa!” exclaimed Thea, shocked as much by her father’s indelicacy as she was by his conclusion.
Mr. Stafford’s frowning gaze roved the parlor before his eyes fell on Lord Cardiff. He was pleased with the obvious solution. “And you, sir, are just the man.”
“I beg your pardon?” said Cardiff, disconcerted. He raised his brows in mild surprise, wondering if the old gentleman was speaking in all earnestness or was merely indulging in a heavy-handed joke.
Thea had no such uncertainty. She flushed scarlet. Appalled, she exclaimed, “Oh, no! Papa, you cannot be serious!”
“Be silent, girl! I am still in charge here,” said Mr. Stafford irritably.
Cardiff looked from one to the other of the three gentlemen. All wore identical expressions of satisfaction. A small smile of disbelief played over his mouth as a feeling of unreality washed over him. “You surely jest, Mr. Stafford. I have no wish to wed your daughter.”
“Aye, you’ve manners enough. You’ll make my daughter a fine husband,” said Mr. Stafford approvingly. He surveyed Lord Cardiff’s trim, well-dressed figure. “And from the look of you, you’ve a deep enough purse that she won’t be clothed in rags.”
“Papa, stop it!” Even to Thea’s own ears, her voice sounded oddly strangled. Humiliation threatened to overcome her, and she pressed her hands against her hot face.
Cardiff had stiffened. He looked coldly at Mr. Stafford. There was steel in his tone. “My apologies to the lady, but I repeat I’ve no wish to wed your daughter, sir.”
“It makes no difference to me, my lord. You’ll be wed and that’s my last word on it,” said Mr. Stafford brusquely. “Philip, Thomas, you escort the gentleman and Thea on to Gretna Green and see that the knot is properly tied.”
“Yes, Papa.”
“But what are you going to do, sir?”
Mr. Stafford’s eyes glittered suddenly as renewed rage flared up. “I am going after Quarles, and
when I catch him, I shall teach him to dishonor my family. He’ll learn what it means to slight poor Tabitha and abduct my Thea!”
The two brothers nodded unquestioning approval of their sire’s intentions. Cardiff felt matters were swiftly getting out of hand. “I repeat yet again, Mr. Stafford! I am unwilling to wed your daughter. Short of bodily harm, I fail to see how you intend to carry out your ludicrous scheme.”
He had stepped back so that he was at angles with the three men. His hands hung easily at his sides, but he was tensed for action. The slightest smile touched his lips, but it did not warm his icy eyes. “I assure you, gentlemen, I shall defend myself.”
“You’re quite right, my lord. I should have thought of that possibility myself.” Mr. Stafford took a pistol out of his capacious coat pocket and leveled it at Lord Cardiff.
In the sudden still silence, Thea’s appalled gasp sounded unnaturally loud.
Chapter Four
Lord Cardiff stared at the huge pistol, then lifted his narrowed eyes to Mr. Stafford’s satisfied face. He looked contemptuously at the gentleman. His mouth tightening to a white line, he grated, “You overreach yourself, sir.”
“You’ve little enough to say now, I see,” said Mr. Stafford, almost jovial. He handed the pistol over to one of his sons. “See that you keep him in your sights, Philip. Shoot him if he attempts to escape.”
Thea made a strangled sound of protest.
“Is it loaded?” asked Philip Stafford, looking down at the firearm he doubtfully clasped.
Mr. Stafford irritably cuffed him. “Of course it is, dolt!”
“Then I beg you will not distract your son’ s attention, sir,” snapped Lord Cardiff, misliking how the pistol dipped and wavered again while the black muzzle was trained in his general direction.
Mr. Stafford gave a short laugh. “Your point is well taken, sir! We mustn’t spoil that fine coat before you and Thea are properly wedded. Now I shall be off.” He stumped towards the open parlor door.
Her father’s impending exit galvanized Thea to protest. “Papa, you cannot do this!” she exclaimed, moving swiftly to bar her sire’s path. With both hands she grabbed her father’s arm and looked up at him pleadingly. “Lord Cardiff was kind enough to save me from Mr. Quarles. And this is how you would reward him, Papa?”
