having first assured himself of her safety.
A spark of perverse humor gave him a slight lift out of his black mood. It was a lesson to him, certainly. He should have taken a leaf from all the tales of yore, when the gallant knight rode off into the sunset directly after saving the fair maiden. It obviously saved the knight a great deal of trouble.
When all was ready, Thomas took his sister’s reluctant arm.
“No! I shan’t!” she exclaimed, at once pulling away.
Thomas sighed. “You don’t wish to make a scene, Thea.”
A martial light lit her eyes. “Perhaps that is just what I do wish to do.”
Thomas shrugged. “I shall throw you over my shoulder, then.” He advanced on her, purpose in his set expression.
Thea rapidly decided that she would far prefer walking to enduring the humiliation of being slung like a bag of grain over her brother’s shoulder. “Wait! I shan’t give you any trouble, Thomas.”
Thomas’s face split in a wide grin. “I am glad of it, Thea. I disliked the notion of carrying you.”
“Not half as much as I did!” retorted Thea.
Stiffly, she accepted her brother’s hand and Thomas es corted her from the parlor, with the long-faced innkeeper walking before them. Lord Cardiff followed, with Philip Stafford bringing up the rear. The common taproom was quickly traversed by the ill-assorted party, and this early in the morning there were only a few locals to witness the odd sight of a peer of the realm being herded out of the inn at pistol point.
Thea tried to hold back again when they reached Lord Cardiff’s carriage, straining against Thomas’s hand. It was useless, however. Her brother merely lifted her into his arms and deposited her somewhat ungracefully inside the carriage. Thea protested furiously at the callous treatment, but Thomas ignored her and climbed in after her.
Cardiff did not waste his breath berating his captors, deeming the case to be hopeless at that juncture. He paused only long enough to give the unhappy innkeeper instructions for the care of his valet, before allowing himself to be thrust after Miss Stafford into his own carriage under the outraged and angry eyes of his coachman and groom.
Philip shouted out the destination to the coachman, then leaped in after Lord Cardiff. He slammed shut the carriage door and latched it.
It was crowded in the carriage when Philip got in and seated himself beside his brother, opposite the two captives. However, the brothers did not appear to mind that they were seated with their backs to the horses. Flushed with success as the carriage started forward with a jerk, the Stafford brothers laughed uproariously together in almost a giddy fashion.
“We’re off to Gretna just like Papa wished!”
“We’ve done it, Thomas. We’ve actually done it!”
“You’ll be fortunate if you both don’t hang for this day’s work,” interjected Cardiff baldly, looking across the short ex panse separating him from the two young gentlemen with patent disgust.
They looked at Lord Cardiff, then again at each other, and burst into renewed guffaws.
“I hope I die very, very soon,” said Thea decidedly. “I have never been more mortified in my whole life!”
Chapter Six
The initial stages of the journey were accomplished with the Stafford brothers’ continued self-congratulations on accomplishing their sire’s wishes. Eventually, however, some of their euphoria wore off and their talk became inter mixed with ever-lengthening silences. Lord Cardiff and Thea, long since fallen silent, offered no distraction.
The carriage swayed over the road, making good time. As the miles passed under the wheels, the opportunity to contemplate their actions was having its inevitable effect on the Stafford brothers.
Characteristically it was Thomas who stated the obvious. “Er . . . perhaps we should have given more thought to it all, Philip.”
“I am giving thought to it, Thomas,” snapped Philip. His brow was furrowed by a worried
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