Anything but Love (The Putney Brothers Book 1)

by Elizabeth Bramwell

  “They sound lovely,” she said, slightly wistful. “Gordon was never much interested in ruins or ancient places.”

  He almost promised to take her to visit them over the summer but shut his mouth firmly at the last moment. While it was obvious she would need to remain at Putney Manor until Gordon’s return, he had little idea about how to accomplish this without ruining her reputation in the process. Even if they continued the lie about an engagement, it did not change the fact that she was unmarried and unchaperoned, and even with his mother there, tongues would most certainly wag. And when the engagement was called off on Gordon’s return…

  Well, her reputation was not going to survive the scandal, not without an extremely clever plan.

  Silence fell between them as his thoughts returned to her predicament, but an extremely clever plan refused to present itself to him. The hacks continued to trot along at a reasonable pace, and Newtown began to loom large in the distance.

  “I’ve been thinking about what to tell your parents,” Marianne said to break the silence, a determinedly cheerful expression on her face. “We should tell them that Aunt Headley has had to visit a sick relative and that Cuthbert is… is away somewhere, which is why I reached out to you for help.”

  “I wouldn’t recommend that,” he replied, smiling to himself. He didn’t point out that her suggestion made no sense.

  “Why not? It’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

  “It might be, my dear, but it does not explain your lack of belongings, or indeed why you wrote to me instead of another member of your family.”

  “Oh,” she said, digesting this information. “No, I don’t suppose it does.”

  “Besides, lying to my father never ends well,” he said, getting straight to the heart of the matter. “The man can sniff out an untruth at fifty paces, and woe betide anyone who attempts to lie to him. My youngest brother Harry tried it once. I’d suggest you ask him about, but all that happens is that Harry goes bright red and refuses to speak for an hour.”

  She looked alarmed at this disclosure. “I had no notion that Sir Joseph was a tyrant.”

  The crack of laughter from Phillips on the seat behind the hood was enough to make the poor girl blush deeply.

  Charles gave her a rueful grin.

  “As you can ascertain from my groom’s reaction, my father is widely considered to have raised us with too loose a hand on the reins – despite the fact none of us has ever got into serious scrapes, I might add! Sir Joseph is the best of men, you see, but he didn’t make his fortune without learning how to spot an untruth. He’s honest to the core, and he finds it difficult to forgive when his trust has been broken. Harry’s back in the fold as it were, but it did take a long time.”

  “I see, but then what can be done to explain my sudden arrival?” she said, twisting the corners of the shawl about her bare hands.

  He wished he’d thought to stop in Clun and procure her some gloves, and also a spencer. He’d assumed the warm day would have been enough to dispel any discomfort, but she was so frail-looking underneath his checked blanket and the hideous shawl that he was rather afraid she would freeze.

  “We will lay the whole at their feet, and put you firmly under their protection,” he replied with the closest thing he had to a plan.

  “I can’t ask that of them, or of you,” she said, looking alarmed. “Truly, I appreciate the offer, but all I need is somewhere safe to collect myself for a day or two, and a small loan to help me get to London.”

  This disclosure surprised him. “London? Why do you want to go there?”

  Her smile did not reach her eyes. “Because it’s London, and I’ve desperately missed the gaiety of the place.”

  “It’s also the summer, so everyone has left,” he reminded her. “Besides, I don’t believe you.”

  There was a brief flash of temper in her expression, but she suppressed it so fast he wondered what punishments had been inflicted upon her.

  He gripped the reins tightly.

  “If you must know, I wish to go to my brother’s bank,” she eventually admitted. “Cousin Cuthbert would not allow me access to my own funds, and now I have nothing save the contents of a small bandbox to my name, I will need money to replace what has been taken. After that, I suppose I will hire a companion and retire to a house somewhere. Bath maybe, or even Brighton.”

  “Did Gordon leave word with his banker that you were able to draw a sum if needed?” he asked, keeping his tone gentle since he already knew the answer.

  She faltered. “No, I don’t believe that he did now you mention it, but as the accounts are mine, I don’t see that it would be a problem. Cuthbert constantly complained that my brother only allowed him access to a tiny amount for my upkeep, but then he refused to take me to the bank with him, so I can only assume that the money is there for me to claim.”

  “Then I regret to inform you that they are extremely unlikely to let you withdraw any money at all without Gordon at your side. I can frank you until he returns,” said Charles. “No, don’t rip up at me, my girl! You have little choice in the matter, I’m afraid, for even if the money is yours in your own right, you’re not yet of age, so it remains in the control of your guardian.”

  “But he’s not here! Surely they’ll understand that!”

  “It makes no difference legally, I’m afraid. Listen, Marianne; I know you don’t like it, but you know I am Gordon’s friend and will not harm you. I shall bill him directly for any costs you incur while under the protection of my family, so you need not worry. I’ll even give you a list of accounts.”

  The expression on her face was disturbingly blank. “The Headleys were my kin. They swore they meant me no harm, either.”

  Her words were like a knife. His first instinct was to strongly protest at the unfairness of her comment, but a soft cough from the back of the phaeton startled him enough to give him pause.

  “Beg pardon, Sir,” said Phillips.

  Charles took the resulting moment to remember what the poor girl had been through.

  “Then I will provide you with the rolls of soft that you need, and your brother can reimburse the amount upon his return – you can decide between yourselves whether it comes from your fortune or his. This way you’ll have your own money again, and can do with it as you please.”

  He could see her pride, her sense of propriety and her very real need warring silently within her. Charles was sorry to see her in pain, but there was little else he could do to relieve it at this stage.

  He could not take her to London, no matter how much she wished it. There was also the very real risk that the Headley’s would demand that he return her to the fold, and since they were her guardians as appointed by Gordon Hillis, Charles was only a hair away from being credibly accused of abduction. It did not matter in the least how they had mistreated her. In the eyes of the law, Cuthbert Headley could curate and oversee every aspect of Marianne’s life with no recourse.

  At least not until Gordon returned, but Amherst’s diplomatic mission had already taken longer than expected, and there was no firm date as to when he would return.

  Marianne seemed to reach a decision.

  “Very well, I will accept your offer to play banker to me, but I insist upon the creation of a promissory note stating the exact amount I owe you, and that it must be paid in full upon my brother’s return to England.”

  “Agreed,” he said, “but I must also stand firm on your going to London. I’m afraid that your cousin and aunt could cause quite a ruckus over you should they wish it, and Gordon will never forgive me if you end up locked in bedlam because Mrs Headley wished to punish you further!”

  His words, which he’d meant to be jokingly dramatic, caused Marianne to go white as a sheet.

  He slowed the horses a touch and then reached over to take her bare hand in his, pulling it free from the fringe of the tatty shawl.

  “Marianne, are you feeling unwell? Did my words upset you?”

 
She forced a smile from her lips, but he could feel that she was once again shaking.

  “I’m so sorry! It’s very silly, of course, but my Aunt threatened to call the doctor on me more than once, and it only just occurred to me what she meant! I thought she would keep me to my bed with nothing but gruel to eat, but what if… oh Mr Putney, what if she was implying something worse?”

  A sick knot twisted up in Charles’ stomach. Even if the logical part of his mind violently denied any possibility of the Headley’s being able to have Marianne sent to an asylum without Gordon’s authorization, the fact that they had threatened it was bad enough. It also led him to wonder what lengths they would have gone to in order to force her to marry Cuthbert if Gordon was still abroad in September, and whether his own interference had put an end to their schemes, or merely delayed them.

  He heard Phillips mutter something in Welsh and was very glad that Marianne did not understand the language.

  He might not have a plan, but Charles knew clearly what he had to do.

  “That settles it; you must remain with my family until your brother comes back to England, at which time he can resume his guardianship of you. I know it’s not perfect, Marianne, exchanging one house in the country for another, but you can rest assured that my parents are noted entertainers, and you will suffer no mistreatment while my family stand as your protectors.”

  She chewed on her lip for a moment as she considered his words. “Charles, your offer is beyond kind, and I truly do appreciate your commitment to playing my knight in shining armour, but my situation is scandalous as it is, and-”

  “And you are concerned about how people will react at the idea of you living under Sir Joseph’s roof with no chaperone and three unmarried sons,” Charles finished for her. His smile grew broad as the perfect solution occurred to him. “I’ve already thought of that.”

  “Have you?” she said, looking interested.

  He gave a sharp nod. “Yes. Mrs Melthwaite!”

  “Who?” said Marianne blankly.

  “My mother’s oldest friend; she’s staying with us for a few weeks this summer. She’s the wife of a Liverpool merchant and a prominent abolitionist, and she’s also successfully married off three daughters in very splendid matches. She’s just the sort of person that Gordon might choose as a chaperone for you!”

  “But she doesn’t know me!”

  “Yes, but neither does anyone else in Montgomeryshire,” he replied, warming up to his idea. “If we just introduce you as her charge, no one will be the wiser.”

  “That could work,” she said slowly. “But won’t it seem odd to people that we’ve come to the Manor? I mean, aren’t such invitations usually extended to ladies that the family is seeking to wed to one of their sons?”

  Charles grimaced. He could have sworn that he heard Phillips choking back laughter, but opted to ignore the man. Marianne had no idea about his father’s schemes to marry off Charles and his brothers, and he was not about to terrify her by revealing them.

  Besides, there was only the one solution to the mess the poor girl had found herself in, and that was to keep her safe beneath the wings of his parents.

  “We might just have to let people think you’ve been brought to the Manor for just that purpose,” he said, wincing as the words left his mouth.

  “I… I see,” she said, her tone worryingly flat. “Mr Putney… Charles… I don’t have any wish to marry you, and although I quite see how you might think you must offer for me in the circumstances, I-”

  “Good Lord, no!” he replied with more vehemence than was probably flattering. “Marianne you’re a dear girl, and I know I told your cousin that we were promised to each other, but it was only to get you out of the house! I have no wish to marry you. In fact, I’ve no wish to marry anyone at all.”

  “What a relief,” she said, although her tone did not suggest she felt that way. Charles got the impression that his groom was trying very hard not to laugh, and wished that the phaeton hood was not raised so that he’d be able to cuff the man’s ears for insolence.

  “It’s not that you’re unmarriageable,” he said, trying to reassure her. “You’re quite a catch when you think about it.”

  “Mr Putney-”

  “I mean that first Season saw you with several suitors; Gordon complained to me several times.”

  “Charlie-”

  “And you’re a pretty enough girl with a very handsome dowry, and once your brother is home you can relaunch yourself onto the marriage mart with style.”

  “Charles!” Marianne shouted, causing him to startle. She’d been so quiet, so soft-spoken since he’d seen her in the Headley’s drawing-room that he’d forgotten her personality had always been closer to that of her loud, jovial brother.

  “Yes?” he said, trying not to seem off-kilter.

  “I’m glad that you do not wish to marry me, for I don’t think I’m ever going to marry at all,” she explained patiently. “If one good thing has come out of my being under Cousin Cuthbert’s charge, it is the discovery that I never want to be under another man’s charge ever again.”

  Her statement, offered without any tremble of doubt, surprised him.

  “But what about love?” he asked without thinking. “Isn’t that what all women want?”

  Her derisive snort made her opinion very clear.

  “In my experience, people marry for anything but love,” she replied. “Status, wealth, security, expectations, or maybe children. But not love. Basing your future on a fleeting emotion seems like a sure way to end up married to a man like Cousin Cuthbert.”

  She pulled the shawl tightly around her, her expression grim.

  “You should not let your experiences with the Headleys turn you away from marriage altogether,” he said, trying to sort out her words in his mind.

  The look she threw him was a pitying one.

  “I’ve never intended to marry anyone at all, and Gordon well knows it,” she replies. “Did he not tell you? I’ve enough money to set up my own household, and I plan to dedicate my time and fortune to support the cause of Mr Wilberforce and his friends.”

  Charles blinked. “And Gordon approved of this?”

  She shrugged. “Of the latter part most certainly, but he did venture to suggest that the right husband would be of great use in my goals.”

  “An interesting perspective,” he said politely.

  “So you see why I do not wish for people to think we are courting, even if I did call you my fiancé back at my Aunt’s house. I couldn’t think of anything else that might prevent Cousin Cuthbert from denying your rescue of me at the time, but I would not like to dupe your neighbours into believing I had come here to marry you.”

  “If you have no intention of marrying though, it will hardly hurt your reputation to be considered a jilt,” he pointed out.

  “I’m more concerned about your reputation where it known I chose a life of spinsterhood over marrying you,” she replied, almost apologetically.

  Phillips didn’t even bother to contain his laughter at that. Charles knew it was going to cost him a pretty penny to prevent this exchange being shared with the rest of the staff, or far worse, his brothers.

  “Be that as it may, we have to uphold appearances if only to prevent your cousin and aunt trying to steal you away,” he replied, feeling a small pang of guilt in his chest when she winced at his words. “I doubt they’ll try anything, but he is your legal guardian whether we like it or not.”

  “I suppose that makes sense,” she replied, shrinking back into the seat.

  “But you won’t need to worry about any expectation of marriage,” he reassured her. “This will not be the first time my mother has invited young ladies and their chaperones to stay at Putney Manor, so none of the neighbours will be particularly surprised. The fact that they’ll all believe you came under the charge of Mrs Melthwaite will only make it more believable; she used to bring her daughters along, you know, and despite the best efforts of the t
wo matriarchs, there were no weddings to join our families. A fact I think the Melthwaite girls were exceedingly happy about.”

  “I am not sure,” she said before pursing her lips in thought.

  “It also gives us an excuse to take you about to every ball and soiree in the neighbourhood,” he explained. “I know it’s not London, but the Newtown Assembly rooms have some jolly country dances, and hardly a week goes by without someone hosting a picnic or musicale.”

  “It would be nice to go dancing again,” she admitted.

  “And the beauty of your being chaperoned here is that there is no set expectation of us going through with a match,” he continued, starting to feel rather pleased with himself. “Look, you’re an heiress, and it’s not exactly a secret. I’m the wealthy son of a nabob who is only accepted into higher circles because my father is rich, and a lot of peers owe him money. No one will be in the least bit surprised if Gordon decides you can do better than me. The locals will just shrug it off and then set about trying to marry me to one of their female relations instead.”

  “That’s just you being ridiculous,” she replied with a roll of her eyes. “You and your brothers are invited everywhere because you are amiable, handsome, wealthy and have impeccable manners! Gordon and I are from a good middle-class family, but we’re hardly anyone important. Indeed, if it wasn’t for some lucky investments by my grandfather, we’d have been no one of any consequence at all.”

  “But you are of consequence,” he pointed out.

  “Not as much as you,” she replied. “No person of sense would believe that Gordon refused to countenance our match, and besides, in a month I shall turn twenty-one, and the decision would be all my own.”

  He shook his head, part flattered, and part exasperated. “Then you will have to publicly spurn me, my dear!”