The Fleeing Heiress: A funny flight into love.

The Fleeing Heiress: A funny flight into love. by Gayle Buck

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Authors: Gayle Buck
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not yet asked. “Have you gone completely stark- raving mad?”
    Philip’s mouth tightened mulishly. “I am going to do what Papa said to do. Lord Cardiff and you and Thomas and I are leaving now, in his lordship’s carriage.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous!” Cardiff was out of all patience. His voice cracked like a whip. “Do not interfere with me, Stafford, I warn you. Come, my good man, let us put my valet to bed.”
    The innkeeper threw a hapless glance backwards but obeyed. As Lord Cardiff and the innkeeper disappeared into the bedroom, a spirited argument broke out in the parlor be tween Thea and her brothers.
    When Cardiff returned to the parlor, followed by the innkeeper, it became clear at once that nothing had been re solved. Miss Stafford’s color was high and her eyes blazed dangerously, but she was holding her underlip tightly be tween her teeth.
    Philip became aware of the hovering innkeeper. He sharply commanded the man to pull the bell rope and told him to relay the order that Lord Cardiff’s carriage be brought around to the door immediately. When the innkeeper glanced again in Lord Cardiff’s direction, Philip flushed. “You! Do as you’re told! Or—or I’ll shoot his lordship!”
    Above Thea’s exclamation of horror and the cringing innkeeper’s gobbled reassurances, Cardiff’s voice rang out. “You’ll do no such thing and you know it! Innkeeper, ignore anything he might say. We will wait for the constable’s ar rival to settle this matter.”
    “I dare not refuse to do as he says, m’lord,” said the innkeeper, appealing for his lordship’s understanding of his position. He pulled hard several times on the bell rope. “If he did shoot you because I denied him, it would be as much as my head is worth.”
    “I see.” Cardiff did indeed understand. He looked across the room at the purposeful Stafford brothers and silently cursed. Miss Stafford had spoken truly enough about her brothers. They were obstinate and thick-headed and foolish beyond belief.
    Set on a course of action at last, Philip Stafford could not be moved from it. He was ably seconded by his brother, who enthusiastically repeated his admiration for Philip’s inspired notion to make use of Lord Cardiff’s own carriage.
    “For there’s no denying that his lordship’s carriage and cattle are better than we could afford,” concluded Thomas complacently. His voice sounded peculiarly stuffy since his nose had swelled to twice its normal size. His injured appendage had stopped bleeding, but it was turning a distinct shade of purple.
    It was Thomas’s idea to tie Lord Cardiff’s wrists together with a piece of cord taken from the drapes. He apologized for the necessity but excused it on account of his respect for Lord Cardiff’s pugilistic ability. “I shan’t hide from you, my lord, that I’ve rarely been hit so hard,” he said in congratulatory accents.
    Lord Cardiff did not respond, but suffered the indignity with cold disdain. The expression in his eyes, however, left not a doubt in anyone’s mind of his temper. Philip was there fore cautious to never let his attention wander from his lord ship, nor to allow the pistol to waver.
    Thea protested furiously against this latest example of her brothers’ iniquity, but to no avail. It seemed nothing she said could sway her brothers from their stated course. She sub sided in her arguments when she realized at last how useless her words had been. “I am very sorry, my lord,” she said in a low voice.
    “Pray do not flagellate yourself, Miss Stafford. It is not your fault,” said Cardiff in an expressionless voice. It would not do to say so, of course, but he heartily regretted that he had not set out early that morning before ever Miss Stafford’s misguided parent and brothers arrived. This was what came of possessing an over-weaning sense of chivalry, he thought disgustedly, even though he knew well enough he could not in all conscience have driven off without

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