Anything but Love (The Putney Brothers Book 1)

by Elizabeth Bramwell

  He couldn’t remember whether Gordon had ever introduced them.

  “Indeed, and a pleasure to see you again as well,” he lied.

  Miss Hillis squeezed his arm even tighter, and one glance at her worried face told him that there was much more going on here than he was aware of.

  “We share a club, I believe,” said Mr Headley, not even trying to disguise his unhappiness with this situation. “Not that I’ve been in London much over the last eighteen months. Mother’s health, you know.”

  “Aunt Headley has not been up to leaving the district ever since my brother went to China,” said Miss Hillis, and the undercurrent to her words could not be mistaken. “I’m so sorry that we have been apart for so long, Charlie, but at least you understand now.”

  Charles didn’t understand in the least, but he was beginning to form a good idea of the situation. He had not missed the fact that Miss Hillis was dressed very plainly in an old gown that had seen better days. The material was a faded blue, printed with daisies, and while perfectly serviceable for a day at home, was in stark contrast to the expensive confection worn by her aunt. It had been taken in poorly at the sides, suggesting that she had either lost inches since they’d last seen each other or that she had been reduced to wearing hand-me-downs. Possibly both. It irritated him, for he did remember that she was as fastidious a dresser as her brother, albeit a little too free with ruffled trims.

  Mr Cuthbert Headley, on the other hand, was wearing a finely cut jacket of bright blue superfine that was amply padded about the shoulders, a cream waistcoat embroidered with silk flowers, and form-fitting inexpressibles that did not disguise the wads of cotton about his calf muscles. The Headleys looked like a wealthy young man and his mother, that had taken in a poor female relation as an unpaid companion.

  Charlie, however, knew that could not be the case. Marianne Hillis was an independently wealthy young woman, and although most her fortune was safely tied up until she was twenty-five, she still had more pin money than most families had as income.

  Gordon might not have returned from his trip to China, but it was impossible that the girl had somehow been reduced to penury in a little over a year through any action of her own. No, something was amiss indeed, and it occurred to Charles that it was best not to mention that he had received a letter from her.

  “Will you be seated, Mr Putney?” said Mrs Headley. Charles noted that she did not offer him refreshments.

  Miss Hillis lead him to the sofa, her grip still strong on his arm, so that they could sit beside each other. The look on Mr Headley’s face made Charles very glad that there was no weaponry to hand in the room.

  What on earth had possessed Gordon to leave his sister in the care of two such sour-faced people, he had no idea.

  “I did not know you had some business in the area,” said Mr Headley after he finally settled back down into his seat. “Can’t think I’ve seen any of your family in Clun before.”

  “We’ve passed through a few times,” replied Charles with perfect honesty. “My father has businesses everywhere, and Clun is no different. The Sun Inn is a favourite stopping place for my family when working.”

  “Is that why you are here?” the younger man asked. He glanced at Miss Hillis’ hand and grimaced, then looked over to his mother.

  “Marianne, decorum,” said Mrs Headley.

  He felt Miss Headley stiffen for a moment. She moved her hand from her grip on his arm but continued to sit so close that their legs were touching.

  It was rather… distracting, to say the least. He’d always been fond of Miss Hillis in a distant way – she was Gordon’s sister, after all – but to be in physical contact with her in such a way felt far too intimate.

  He did not, however, move away. Charles might not understand exactly what was happening around him, but Miss Hillis had asked for his help, and the behaviour of her relatives indicated her plea was a genuine one.

  “I’m actually here to see Marianne,” said Charles, pleased that he didn’t stumble when using her given name. “I should have come sooner, of course, but… well, you know how it is.”

  “Charlie is terribly busy with his estates, you know,” said Miss Hillis. “He owns the land that runs parallel to that of his father, and has been implementing many of the same improvements as Sir Joseph did.”

  “Estates is rather a grand term,” said Charles, wondering how she knew that about him. “Rather, it was a large farm, but the owners were elderly and could not keep up with the needs of the land.”

  “Don’t be modest, darling,” said Miss Hillis, playfully batting him on the chest. “Gordon was ever so proud of you! Did you know, cousin Cuthbert, that Charlie here was so good as to buy his neighbour’s estate, and then allow them to live in the house for as long as they wished so long as they maintain the building, and raise no objections to the improvements he has undertaken? Quite an enlightened approach, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Mr Headley snorted in disgust. “Enlightened! I’m afraid you may have been taken for a soft-hearted fool, Mr Putney. Had I been the one to purchase the lands, I would have evicted all the tenants and replaced with my own people.”

  “As the farm was part of the original estates now owned by my father, we’ve found the locals to be very accepting of us and our ways of managing things,” replied Charles when it seemed that Mr Headley was about to start pontificating. “We are very happy with things as they are.”

  “Humph!” said Mr Headley, with what looked to be the start of a sulk.

  “You still have not explained why you are here,” said Mrs Headley, looking impatient. “It seems odd to call on us without warning.”

  “Mother, is it not obvious? He’s merely looking in on his friend’s sister out of a sense of duty,” replied her son before Charles could form any words. “Now that he’s satisfied that she’s well cared for, no doubt he will be on his way. Won’t you, Mr Putney?”

  Charles blinked.

  He did not need Miss Hillis to go rigid at his side to know that he was being hurried out of the way, and nothing could convince him that the poor girl was anything but terrified that he would leave.

  He could not for the life of him explain what it was about the house or the inhabitants that made him so uncomfortable, but the fact that Miss Hillis was afraid of being left alone with her relations, coupled with the obvious desire of the Headleys that he leave as soon as possible, aroused every ounce of chivalry within him. Even if she were not Gordon’s sister, even if she was just some girl he’d stumbled across, he knew he would not forgive himself if he left her without a defender.

  His father would probably never forgive him, either, and his brothers would undoubtedly find a way to charge down to Clun and mount a daring if improbable rescue that would mortify the girl and likely cause a terrible scandal.

  Charles turned to look at Miss Hillis, his brow raised in question. She met his gaze directly, her chin raised slightly by pride, but her eyes were glassy with unshed tears, and she looked one step away from begging him for help.

  His mind made up, he turned his attention back to his host. Charles smiled at Mr Headley, never moving his eyes from the sallow-faced popinjay as he quite deliberately took the girl’s hand into his own.

  “I am not sure how you greet the sisters of your friends, Mr Headley, but rest assured that I would not kiss the sister of Gordon Hillis – or allow her to kiss me! – were not my intentions by her perfectly serious.”

  He heard Miss Hillis gasp and hoped it was a positive sign.

  “What do you mean by that?” demanded Mrs Headley, dropping her spinning to the floor.

  Charles heaved a dramatic sigh and turned to face Miss Hillis directly.

  “My dear Marianne, are you still upset about our quarrel?”

  “I… I…” she hesitated, obviously unsure as to where this conversation was leading.

  He chucked her lightly on the chin. “Surely you see how improper it would have been! But you are about to com
e of age, and so mother has insisted that you come to spend a few weeks in our company as we discussed with Gordon before he left. We can leave in the morning if you wish, for everything is ready for your arrival at the Manor. Sir Joseph, in particular, is agog to meet you again.”

  Her eyes widened, and Charles noted that she became very pretty when her face lit up with hope.

  “I do wish it; I wish it very much! As… as you have known since my brother’s departure last February!”

  Charles’ smile was a genuine one. He remembered that Miss Hillis had always been quick-witted, and was glad she was able to play along. He put a hand onto her arm without thinking, only wishing to comfort her, but instead found himself shocked at how clearly he could feel her bones.

  Mr Headley had clambered up to his feet, his face turning an odd shade of purple. “I say, what the devil are you talking about? I demand that you release my cousin at once, Mr Putney! I take leave to inform you that she is soon to be my wife!”

  Charles got to his feet rather languidly. It was not often he resorted to using his height and build to intimidate another, partly because his two younger siblings were both taller than him and had been since he was nineteen, but he was already of the opinion that Cuthbert Headley was an odious little toad, and so felt no guilt when the younger man blanched at his approach.

  “Marianne, have you been playing me false, my love?” Charles said quietly, although his eyes were firmly on her cousin.

  “No! I have not, Charlie! I tried to explain to Cuthbert that I could not marry him, but he would not listen!”

  “Insolent girl!” cried Mrs Headley as she straightened herself up in her chair. “How dare you insinuate that your cousin has been anything but a perfect gentleman by you!”

  “I did not insinuate anything, Aunt,” snapped Miss Hillis as she got to her own feet. “You and Cuthbert have talked about our marrying as though it were a given, and never once listened to me when I said I had no wish to do so.”

  “That was because you were waiting for your brother to return from his silly romp abroad!”

  “Amherst’s diplomatic mission is far from silly,” declared Miss Hillis with such vehemence that Charles risked a glance over his shoulder at her. “And my brother is one of the best linguists that England has ever produced, so it cannot be called a romp when he intends to work the whole time he’s away!”

  “Keep to the subject at hand, my dear,” Charles murmured to her before turning his attention back to Cuthbert Headley. He struggled not to smile at her righteous indignation on behalf of a brother who, while undoubtedly a hard worker, had absolutely regarded the trip as a jolly good adventure.

  “Besides, I was not waiting for Gordon’s return, because I don’t want to marry Cuthbert anyway!” she declared.

  The look on the faces of Mrs Headley and her son were evidence that Miss Hillis had been burying her temper while under their care. Charles took advantage of their stunned silence to press on with his mission.

  “It seems we are at a difficult turn. You see, Marianne has been promised to me since before Gordon left the country, but you know what Gordon is like. He left only a brief note consenting to the marriage, but I’m afraid it is not of any legal standing, so the wedding had to be postponed.”

  “What letter? Where?” demanded Headley, spotting the lie for what it was.

  “It’s with a lawyer,” Charles lied smoothly. “I’m afraid that when I explained to Marianne that we would have to wait until his return, or until she reached her majority, she was very unhappy with me. I’d originally promised her that we could live at Putney Manor for the next few years, and she has not forgiven me for taking that treat away from her.”

  “I forgive you now you’re here, and cannot wait to see dear Lady Putney again,” she said firmly. She stepped forward and curled her thin fingers about his bicep. “You understand, don’t you, Charlie? I simply cannot wait.”

  “Why were we not told of this?” demanded Mrs Headley. “Gordon could have seen the two of you married by special license before he left!”

  “We didn’t tell him of our love until the last moment, and by then it was too late, what with all the packing, and… things,” said Marianne, not loosening her hold on his arm. Charles took the opportunity to place his fingers over hers. They felt like slithers of frost beneath his hand; delicate and wont to break at the slightest pressure.

  She had never been fragile. No one who could keep up with Gordon was, and it stoked his quiet rage to imagine what she must have been through during her brother’s absence.

  “And now you expect us to believe that after a year without any communication at all, you’ve suddenly come to collect your lost love a mere twenty-six days before she obtains her majority?” said Mr Headley, folding his arms over his chest. “A likely story.”

  Charles cocked his head to one side, focusing in on Cuthbert’s words.

  “How do you know we’ve had no communication?”

  He scoffed. “Marianne is only accompanied by mother or me when we leave the house, and she is not allowed to send any correspondence without our express approval. If she’d been writing to someone called Putney, I would know about it!”

  “More likely you would not have allowed any such letter to be sent at all,” said Charles. He didn't think as he pulled Marianne closer to him and slid an arm about her shoulder. “This explains everything – and I doubt Gordon will be pleased to know that his sister has been kept isolated from those who care for her. You have acted as jailers rather than loving family, and you should be ashamed for imprisoning her.”

  Whether it was his tone or his words that did it, the Headleys looked on their guard for the first time since he’d entered their home. Something about the way they exchanged glances told him that they were worried about the return of Mr Hillis and that marrying Marianne was the only solution.

  He grimaced as he guessed the reasons, and hated them all the more.

  “Imprisoning her?” laughed Mrs Headley with a false lightness. “Lord, the girl would have me run ragged in a heartbeat, she’s so full of spirit! Why, we had a card party only last night, didn’t we, my dear?”

  “Your friends were around for cards, but you did not let me speak, and then sent me on a fool’s errand to locate your paisley shawl which did not show up until it was time for everyone to leave,” said Marianne. She seemed to be deriving strength from Charles, standing straighter and speaking louder. “I am grateful for your provision of a roof over my head, Aunt Headley, but I will be leaving to spend the next few weeks with my future mother-in-law.”

  “After everything we’ve done for you!” gasped Mrs Headley.

  “Stop being so dramatic, Marianne,” said her cousin in a condescending tone. “Is this your way of getting revenge on me for not allowing you to paint anymore? Very well! I shall return your paints and embroidery things in exchange for an apology. Dragging poor Mr Putney into a silly domestic dispute is very unseemly. What will Gordon think when I tell him?”

  “He’ll think it was rotten of you to take away things that were purchased with my own money, and would curse me out if I was so chicken-hearted as to apologise for something I didn’t do,” she snapped. Charles glanced at her and was surprised to see tears of frustration gathering in the corners of her eyes. She looked fit to explode with rage, and then indulge in well-deserved hysterics.

  He hugged her tighter to him, damn the impropriety.

  “Have your maid gather your things,” he told her softly, but she hesitated.

  “I don’t have a maid. Not anymore. Cuthbert dismissed her when we retired to Clun and said I had no need of a personal servant. Aunt Hillis lets one of the girls help me from time to time, but she steals things and spies on me.”

  “And she’ll not be leaving this house with any of the gifts we have given her, ungrateful wretch! After all the love I’ve given you, treating you like my very own daughter!” said Aunt Headley, switching tack now that Marianne was refusing t
o capitulate to her demands. She began to sob hysterically as she buried her head into a handkerchief.

  “Now look what you’ve done!” protested Cuthbert. “You’ve brought about one of mother’s fits of hysteria, you wicked girl!”

  “She’ll not rest until I’m in my grave!” wailed Aunt Headley, flapping about her handkerchief like it was a diseased pigeon. “All these wicked lies of hers! What will Gordon think when he comes back to discover how she’s behaved to me, his dearest Aunt? Oh, I cannot bear it! Poor Gordon’s heart will be broken!”

  Marianne was shaking, but whether with fear, anger, or something else, Charles had no notion. He took in the scene playing out before him with a dispassionate eye and then strode to the far side of the room to ring the bell.

  The butler, who had probably been eavesdropping, appeared immediately.

  “Your mistress appears to be having a fit of the vapours. Send the housekeeper with some smelling salts, if you please,” he ordered as he held out a small velvet pouch. “And have one of the staff pack up Miss Hillis’ things immediately. She will be leaving with me forthwith, and there will be a handsome tip involved for any who help.”

  “Disregard his orders!” shouted Cuthbert, but the butler did not appear a foolish man, and chose to ignore his employer. He gave a deep bow before disappearing from the room, making the purse that Charles had handed to him vanish just as quickly.

  Charles turned to Miss Hillis and knew that he could not keep her in this room while they waited, not with her relatives there to shout and yell and berate her.

  He held out his hand.

  “Come, my dear. I remember you always liked my carriages, and I have a new one to show you. Spectacular horses, as well. They’re from Derby’s stables originally, match bays and a beautiful pair of steppers. I’m sure you’ll like them exceedingly. Oh, and my groom, Phillips. I prefer the horses to him myself, but he’s rather popular on my father’s estates.”