The Fleeing Heiress: A funny flight into love. Read Free Page A

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 wait ers and the ostler up to escort the gentleman out to his car riage.” 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 be fore 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 him self up onto his feet, using the comer of the table for sup port.
    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 to wards 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 cor ner of the mantel as though for support. There was an ex pression 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 dis cover 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 curi ously 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 light headed very easily if she were to imbibe too much on an empty stomach. However, the wine did leave a warm feel ing as it went down her throat.
    “Yes, I was hit with a piece of shrapnel. It was nothing too