A Heart in Flight (17 page)

She swallowed. When he looked at her like that, so fierce and unyielding, she knew The Plan had been nothing but a foolish dream. “I don’t know for sure. I mean, I did not ...” There was no sense in going on in that line; plainly he didn’t believe she was unaware of what had happened. She pulled herself together. “I suppose ... Well, perhaps Gretna Green ...”

“I thought as much. Take care of Prudence. I’ll be back when I’ve found them.”

And he strode out, leaving Aurelia and her uncle staring at each other in dismay.

* * * *

The road north fell away under the stallion’s hooves, and Ranfield, sitting easily in the saddle, gave himself up to thought. What an addlepated scheme. And he had thought Harold a sensible fellow.

He cursed. He should have known better. What man in the throes of love was ever sensible? Look at the antics of his own mind. He who had once considered only dark willowy beauties with classic features was now captivated by a small, gamine-faced chit, with the reprehensible habit of courting disaster.

Probably her face and form had nothing to do with his feelings, though. Mama had told him that many times— that outward attributes were fine but the inward ones more important. He had laughed then, in the callowness of his green years. But now ... He could see she was right.

Inward attributes. Well, Aurelia was loyal enough. And brave. No one had ever before stood up to his fiercest look and refused him the information he demanded. He was still convinced of her involvement in this bumble broth. Phoebe and Harold would scarcely have taken such a step without confiding in her.

But what did they hope to accomplish? The women might suppose the pair could elude him. But Harold should know better.

And that was another thing. How had they convinced Harold to undertake such a lame-brained scheme? The fellow might have little regard for the amenities of society, but where women were concerned he was a tower of respectability.

Ranfield glanced at the sinking sun. Another hour and the pair would have to stop for the night. He would find them before the darkness was well along.

Actually, it was almost three in the morning before he discovered the particular inn that housed the runaways. He satisfied himself that it was indeed they by identifying his curricle. Then he gave orders to have his horse cared for and had himself a hearty meal. By the time daylight broke, he was feeling half-human again.

* * * *

Phoebe was first down the stairs. She had come to request the carriage be readied. Ranfield waited till she had spoken to the innkeeper, then he stepped from the shadows of the great room and confronted her. “Good morning, cousin.”

Her face turned pale and he thought for a moment she might swoon. But she rallied. “R ... Ranfield. How did you ...?”

“It wasn’t difficult to guess your destination.”

“Mama? What did Mama say?”

“Your mama fainted dead away.”

She put a hand to her mouth. “Oh dear! Did she injure herself?”

“No. Mr. Amesley caught her.”

The door above opened. “Phoebe,” Harold called. “Where ...?”

“Harold.” There was only a faint quiver in her voice. “Ranfield is come.”

“Oh.” Harold came down the stairs, a sheepish expression on his face. “Morning, milord.”

“Good morning. Well, what have you to say for yourselves?”

He made his voice stern, but he couldn’t help feeling a certain tenderness. The two of them were such innocents.

Harold took Phoebe’s hand. “We said it already. We want to be married. We tried, Ranfield. But Phoebe’s mama ... she just couldn’t be brought round. And Phoebe ...” He swallowed. “That is,
I
decided Gretna Green was our only choice.”

“Didn’t you know I’d catch up with you?”

Harold nodded. “Had to consider that.” He dropped Phoebe’s hand and stepped forward. “Deal me a facer if ...”

“Harold! No!”

Harold turned. “Phoebe, my love. He’s got a right to be angry. I’d be up in the boughs if I was him.” He swung back. “So see, as I was saying, deal me a facer if you like. But I love her. And we’ll persist till we get married.”

A tearful Phoebe nodded.

Ranfield knew he ought to give them a good scare. But try as he would to frown, he kept wanting to smile. “You are not going to Gretna Green,” he said. “Not ever.”

“Begging your pardon.” Harold looked a little pale, as though he expected the aforementioned facer to be delivered at any moment. “We might not make it this time. But we will be married.”

“All right! All right!” Ranfield was tired of his role as righteous guardian. “You’ve made your point. Now come home. We’ve a wedding to prepare for.”

“A wedding?” Phoebe echoed.

“Yes. Your mama has given her permission.”

For a moment the two of them stared at him in shock. Then Harold chuckled. “By Jove,” he began. “It actually ...”

Phoebe gave him a strange look and threw herself into his arms. “Oh Harold, it’s so wonderful.”

“Yes, yes.”

“It actually what?” Ranfield asked.

Harold stuttered. “Ah, a ... actually going to happen, of course.”

Ranfield was not satisfied with this answer. There was something evasive about Harold’s eyes.

But Phoebe turned and hurried him up the stairs. “Oh, do let us be going. I can’t wait to get home. My wedding! I’m going to plan my wedding. There’s so much to do.”

Chapter Seventeen

Aurelia came down to breakfast at the first sign of light. Pratt was already busying himself in the dining room. “No sign of them yet.” he said cheerfully. “But they’ll be here.”

Aurelia looked around. She must be the only one up.

“Mrs. Esterhill is still resting. Your uncle, too. They were up late—talking.”

“Thank you, Pratt.”

She forced herself to take a cup of tea and a roll. It was difficult getting the roll down past the lump in her throat, but she knew she must eat. There was no telling how long it would take Ranfield to find them. For the hundredth time she asked herself if they had done the right thing. Certainly Phoebe and Harold would be pleased. Their marriage was now assured. And Phoebe’s mama would probably keep her word.

But what about Ranfield? She much disliked the way he’d been looking at her. How much did he suspect? And why hadn’t she thought of that possibility before she got herself tangled in this briar patch?

Oh, if she only got out of this one, she would never again think of making A Plan!

It was midmorning when the curricle turned into the drive. Aurelia, who had been watching for hours, hurried toward the door. But she was not the first to reach it.

Cousin Prudence was already halfway down the outside stairs, the door ajar behind her.

“I see them!” Pratt exclaimed. “The three of them!” Then, as though remembering his place, he gave Aurelia a subdued look. “That is ...”

“It’s all right, Pratt. Thank God, the Earl has found them.”

“Yes, miss. Thank God.”

By the time the curricle reached the steps. Cousin Prudence was at the bottom, weeping great tears of joy.

Before the curricle was fairly stopped, Phoebe tumbled out and into her mama’s welcoming arms. “Oh, my lamb,” moaned Cousin Prudence. “Praise God you’re safe.”

Phoebe looked uncomfortably close to tears. “Oh, Mama, don’t carry on so. Harold would not let anything harm me. I was always safe.”

“Harold ...” Cousin Prudence stopped suddenly, and seemed to realize that the Earl’s eyes were upon her. “Harold will make a good husband, I’m sure.” She cast him a look half anger, half tenderness. “But come, Phoebe. We’ve so much to do.”

“Where’s Papa?” Harold asked, his expression anxious. Aurelia sighed. The two of them were such babies. She hoped they hadn’t already given things away.

“I believe he’s out in the shed.” She allowed herself a little smile. “He was confident the Earl would find you.”

Harold nodded. “I’ll just go out there then.”

Aurelia turned to follow him, but the Earl said, “Miss Amesley, a moment please.”

She wanted to run, but since her legs were so weak that they could hardly hold her, running did not seem a likely solution. She waited, trying to compose herself, while the groom led the stallion away.

The Earl came up and stood in front other. He seemed so towering, so ferocious. “So, have you no questions for me?”

“Questions? No, milord.” Since he was plainly addressing her, she had to raise her eyes to his. His face was expressionless. He stared at her in silence. And yet his voice had conveyed his displeasure quite adequately.

She could feel the blood rising in her cheeks, and finally she could stand his scrutiny no longer. “What is it, milord? Why do you stare at me so?”

He shrugged. “Excuse me. I am merely trying to untangle a puzzle.”

“A puzzle?”

“Yes. I find it difficult to understand how Phoebe, who is your bosom bow, could have undertaken such a venture without your knowledge.”

Careful now, she must not give herself away. She swallowed. “People in love do strange things.”

His smile did not reach his eyes. “So I’ve been told.”

“You talk as though you’ve never ...”She stopped, appalled at what she’d been about to say. “I must go, milord. Phoebe will need me.”

“Of course.”

* * * *

Later that afternoon, after be had slept a little, Ranfield summoned Phoebe to the library. She hesitated inside the door, plainly nervous.

He gestured. “Sit down. I want to talk to you.”

She crossed the room and settled primly on the divan, between the piles of pillows. For a moment silence prevailed. Then she said, “I don’t understand. What is there to talk about?”

He swallowed some words unfit for female ears. “What indeed.” He fixed her with a stern look. “I want to know who planned this elopement.”

“I don’t see what difference that makes. It all worked out quite well. You got Mama’s consent for us. Oh, thank you, Ranfield, for that. We are very happy.”

“That does not answer my question. I cannot believe that Harold would suggest such a thing.”

She frowned. “No, no. He didn’t.”

“Then who did?”

There was only a moment’s hesitation, but enough for him to notice it.

“Why, why I did, of course.” Her bottom lip quivered slightly and then grew firm. “I love him, you see. And I want to be with him.”

“And Aure—— Miss Amesley. What part did she play in this?”

“Why, why none at all.”

The quiver was more pronounced now. She grabbed up a pillow and hugged it to her. And then she paled and dropped it quickly back. But not before he had seen the book that lay beneath it.

He crossed the room. “What is that?”

“W ... what?”

He shoved the pillow aside. “This.”

“Oh. That’s just a romance we were reading. I must have left it in here.”

She reached for it, but he was quicker. The cover was worn by much use. She had had it for some time. He studied her face. “Is it good? Shall I read it?”

“Oh no. It’s ... it’s very dull.”

There was the quiver again. He returned to his chair, taking the book with him.

Phoebe shifted. “Please, Ranfield, may I have my book?”

“Not yet. I want to see how Lady Incognita could be dull.”

The book fell open in his hands. Passages were marked in ink. He turned to the back of it. There were some notations—a series of
Es, of Ks.

He summoned his sternest look. “All right, Phoebe, enough of this circumvention. I want the truth or your wedding is off.”

She turned pale and burst into tears. “Oh, I was so wrong about you. I thought you understood love. But you’re a beast ... a hard unyielding beast. No wonder you can’t return Aurelia’s love.”

The words hit him like a blow. “Can’t return ...?”

“Yes. I thought you loved her. So did she. For a while. But this proves it. You don’t care a fig for her. And now ... and now ...”

“Phoebe, my dear.” He crossed the room and put an arm around her. “You’re wrong. I do love Aurelia.”

Her eyes widened. “You do?”

“Yes, I do. But how can I marry a woman who’s always in the suds?”

“But that was on purpose.”

He felt himself sinking ever deeper into a morass of incomprehensibility. “On purpose?”

“Yes, of course. So you could rescue her.”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t understand any of this. Please. Start at the beginning.”

She did so, concluding some minutes later by saying, “And we used the book as a model.” She took it from him. “These marks show what happened.
E
for embrace. A for kiss.”

He was overwhelmed by the enormity of their undertaking. “And this plan was to result in a proposal of marriage?”

“Yes, of course.” Phoebe sighed. “But after the thing in the caves, Aurelia refused to continue. She feared making you angry.”

“And last night’s misadventure ...”

“It was my fault really. She did suggest that
maybe
if we were gone. Mama would change her mind. But it was just a suggestion.”

“So you expected me to find you.”

“Of course.”

He considered this for some moments before he asked, “This Plan. Was there more to it?”

“Yes. But I told you. She refused to go on.”

“What was to happen next? Not another runaway.”

“Oh, no. Aurelia cannot ride.”

“Cannot ride.” This piece of information left him almost speechless.

Phoebe patted his hand. “Don’t worry, Ranfield. She won’t try that again.”

“I should hope not. But what ...?”

“We had not quite figured it out. I had a brilliant idea. But Aurelia would not hear of it.”

And no wonder, considering. Still he had to ask, “What was it?”

“A balloon race. I told her she could go down, and you could rescue her. That would be the big rescue, you see, the one that brings on the declaration of love. And the proposal of matrimony.” She signed. “But she wouldn’t hear of it.”

“I see. Phoebe,” he said, “lean closer. I have A Plan.”

* * * *

“A race?” Aurelia stared from Ranfield to Phoebe. Phoebe had mentioned a race earlier. But her friend was happily eating a roll, her face the epitome of innocence.