A True Gentleman (Regency Love Book 2)

by M. A. Nichols

  Chapter 21

  The kitchen was a mess, and Tabby was unsure who was more responsible for it—her son or her charge. There were more than a few splattered eggs surrounding Captain Ashbrook’s seat, and Phillip would need a bath to rid the last remnants of batter and flour from his hair. But that afternoon had to be one of the most enjoyable Tabby had experienced in a long time.

  Captain Ashbrook was unfailingly patient with Phillip’s chattering and mistakes, laughing them off as he made his own. Phillip sat beside the gentleman, rambling on about all the intricate details of his young life, and the captain seemed as pleased to listen. Seeing Phillip beam at the attention made Tabby’s heart warm with gratitude, even though a part of her soul dimmed at the longing it brought to her heart.

  This was the sort of scene she had wished for when she had married all those years ago. Joshua cuddled next to his son, giving him all the love and affection the boy craved. Phillip deserved a father who cared more for him than drink or card games. This was no feigned contentment from the captain. It was clear from his words and actions that he liked the boy, and Tabby blinked away the tears threatening to form.

  This wasn’t her life. This wasn’t her family. Tabby had to remind herself of that. Her husband was off somewhere avoiding his responsibilities, forcing it all onto Tabby’s tired shoulders. For good or ill, she had made her choice when she said spoken her marriage vows, and wishing it were different would not change that.

  But then Captain Ashbrook leaned over. “You have a very sweet son,” he whispered.

  His nearness startled her, making her heart thump. But when she met his eyes, it wasn’t fear that she was feeling. And then his smile softened, and Tabby’s pulse quickened.

  “Thank you,” she said, standing to put some distance between them. This would not do! She had to control herself. She was not free to feel such things. Not that she was feeling anything. Captain Ashbrook was a good fellow, and it was naught but appreciation for his kindness towards her son. Meaningless. A passing fancy. A bit of nothing that would die off once she cleared her head.

  Bustling over to the sink, Tabby retrieved a wet rag and began scrubbing at the table.

  “Are they ready yet, Mama?” asked Phillip.

  The little cakes rested on the clean end of the table to cool. Some had not come free of their teacups easily and sat in crumbling heaps. Others were simply misshapened. Overall, they were quite possibly the ugliest fairy cakes ever made, but they filled the kitchen with a smell so intoxicating that Tabby was tempted to pop one in her mouth.

  “Only a few more minutes, dearest,” she said. “We must wait or they shall burn your tongue.”

  “Are you certain?” asked Captain Ashbrook, his own face looking as eager as Phillip. “Perhaps we should test one.”

  He reached over, but Mrs. Bunting slapped it away with a smile. “Patience, Captain Ashbrook!”

  The captain retreated and sent Phillip a commiserating look, and the two sat side-by-side with their arms folded, their eyes locked on the cakes.

  “Boys never grow up,” mumbled Mrs. Bunting, and Tabby chuckled.

  The kitchen door opened, and James poked his head inside. “Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley are here to see Captain Ashbrook.”

  “One moment,” said Tabby, fetching Captain Ashbrook’s cane. Handing it to him, she helped him to his feet.

  “Perhaps we should present them with some of our fairy cakes,” said the captain, ruffling Phillip’s hair with his free hand.

  “Can we, Mama?” Phillip bounced off the chair, rushing over to sad, crumbling heaps.

  “That may not be the best idea,” she said. “You aren’t supposed to be here, darling, and—”

  “Nonsense,” said the captain. “Surely, you do not think my sister and brother-in-law are going to be upset about him being here.”

  Tabby sighed. That was exactly the sort of naive thoughts she’d had during her privileged life, but Tabby hated taking advantage of her employer’s generosity.

  Captain Ashbrook smiled, his eyes softening. “It shall be fine. I promise.” Turning to Phillip, he asked, “I happen to know that my sister adores fairy cakes.”

  Phillip beamed and scrambled over to the treats. Tabby reached him just in time before he grabbed at them with his bare hands.

  “Let’s put them on a tray, shall we?” she said, leading Phillip to where the serving trays were kept. Handing one to her son, Phillip carried it to the table, and in short order, Tabby had the cakes, plates, and napkins gathered on it.

  With a few brushes of her hands, she cleared off bits of flour and crumbs that were on his shirt, then scrubbed his face clean of any splatters of batter and tidied his hair. Perhaps this was a mistake, but Tabby would make certain Phillip looked as presentable as possible, given the circumstances. The thought of marching into that room with her son rattled her. It was not as though she expected Mina to be affronted at the audacity, but Tabby had never thought to have her family and employers mixing.

  Tabby moved to straighten the remnant mess on the table. “I apologize, Mrs. Bunting, for leaving things in such a state.”

  “Don’t fret, dear,” said the cook, shooing her away. “This has been the most fun I’ve had in ages. I can take care of this.”

  “Mama, look, I’m so strong!” said Phillip, and Tabby turned in time to see him lift the tray from the table. It tipped to the side, and Tabby lunged for it, but Phillip righted it before it clattered to the ground.

  “Phillip,” she said, reaching for it.

  “I’ve got it, Mama,” he insisted. His muscles were straining, but he kept it level.

  Captain Ashbrook stood at the kitchen door, holding it open for Phillip, and motioned for Tabby to join them. As she stepped past him and the door shut, Tabby noticed a bit of flour on the captain’s sleeve and brushed at it. With a few pats, she had it clean and did so with the other. When her hands moved to his chest, Tabby’s eyes met his.

  Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart paused for a brief moment. In the narrow hall, they were closer than she had realized. Her hand rested on his chest, and his eyes softened, warming Tabby through until she felt as though made of melted butter, and in that instant, Tabby wondered what it would feel like to have his arms around her.

  A clatter of dishes snapped Tabby out of her thoughts and returned her to the present, bringing a wave of shame as she realized where her mind had led her. Stepping away from the captain, her heart pounded and her cheeks blazed. She still could not catch her breath, but it was for an entirely different and unpleasant reason. What was she thinking? She had no right to entertain such thoughts.

  Pain twisted through her, chilling her heart under a wave of icy guilt. She was not free to feel such things. This was not her husband. This was her charge. Her duty. The way to feed her family. For her son, she had to keep herself in check. Tabby was in this house in order to provide for Phillip. Nothing more. And she would not allow herself to forget that.

  *

  Graham took a breath, tamping the urge to sweep Tabby into his arms and kiss her soundly. It was pointless trying to think of her as Mrs. Russell any longer. He may not take such liberties aloud, but in his thoughts, he could ignore the bounds of propriety and revel in the depths of his feelings for her.

  The strength of the emotion surprised him, leaving him frozen in place as she bustled away to help Phillip navigate to the sitting room. It was not as though he’d been ignorant of those latent desires, but that afternoon had allowed it to take shape. He loved Tabby. It may have been a few short hours, but spending time like a proper family made him yearn for it to be a reality with this lady and her son.

  There was no room for doubt any longer. Graham would court Tabby, but he needed to find a manner in which to do so without ruining her reputation. She was already in a compromising situation, and he needed to tread carefully.

  Tabby opened the door to the sitting room, pulling Graham from his revelations, and he stepped forward
to follow Phillip and her into the sitting room. Graham smiled at the boy as he carefully walked the tray over while his mother hovered to save it if the worst should happen.

  Mina sat on the sofa, and Simon stood beside her, and it did Graham good to see her looking so well. The smile she gave him made him think that she had forgiven him for putting them all through that final scare. Luckily for him, his sister was a kindhearted sort unsuited to nursing grudges.

  “It appears you are hiring footmen at a rather young age, Graham,” said Simon as the group entered and Phillip placed the tray on a side table.

  “I’m not a footman,” said Phillip, wrinkling his nose. “I’m a boy.”

  “A young man, more like,” said Mina. At that, Phillip puffed out his chest and gave a childish attempt at a regal nod.

  Simon coughed to cover his chuckle, and Graham found himself doing the same. Glancing at Tabby, Graham noticed the tension pulling at her lips, and with a hand at her back, he ushered her to sit.

  “All is well,” he whispered to her as they took their seats before explaining to Mina and Simon. “This young man is Mrs. Russell’s boy, Phillip. The woman who watches over him is unavailable at present, and he is going to be staying here at Gladwell House until she is free once more.”

  “To stay?” asked Tabby, her eyes widening. “Oh, I could not possibly impose—”

  “Nonsense,” Graham said. “You cannot send him home alone, and he is a pleasure to have around.”

  What Graham truly wanted was to offer him a permanent place in the house; mother and child deserved to live together, and Graham wanted to be able to give that to Tabby, but he was no fool. As much as he loved the idea, having Phillip stay even these few days would raise eyebrows—just as Mina and Simon’s were at that very moment. Of course, the townsfolk would appear less intrigued and more affronted than the Kingsleys. Graham attempted to look indifferent about the offer while his sister stared at him, but he could not fight the red tinge heating his cheeks. Mina’s eyes darted between Graham and Tabby, a smile creeping across her face.

  “Absolutely, Tabby,” said Mina. “This young man cannot be left alone.”

  Tabby’s brow furrowed, her shoulders rigid as she looked at her son, who was carefully handing Mina and Simon their fairy cakes. Slowly, the tension eased from her and she nodded, a hint of shine filling her eyes.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Graham did not care that his sister was beaming at him like he was a courting buck or that Simon’s gaze grew far too knowing for comfort; the gratitude in Tabby’s expression wrapped around Graham’s heart, making him wish he could do more for the dear lady. What he had offered was so small, yet it meant worlds to her, and Graham was grateful that he’d been able to bring her such joy.

  ***

  Candlelight filled the sitting room, but Tabby struggled to see her stitches. It would be better for her eyes to put off the chore until daylight, but she needed to mend the ripped seam or Phillip would have nothing to wear tomorrow. All his clothes were in a terrible state for Tabby rarely had time to deal with such things, and Joshua had neither the ability nor inclination to lift a finger to help the situation.

  Tabby set the mending down and rubbed her forehead. Such thoughts were not helpful. Not at all. But it was difficult to maintain her civility towards the man who had disappeared without a trace. Even when she had returned home to fetch more clothes for Phillip, Joshua was not there. Tabby hated the dark visions that entered her mind as she wondered where he was. Though she wished to think the best of him, she had known him far too long to indulge in such fantasy. At best, he was ensconced in some seedy pub, wrapped around a bottle of gin.

  “Are you tired?” asked Graham. Captain Ashbrook. Tabby gave herself a mental shake for allowing such a slip. He was her charge. No matter how comfortable things felt, they were employer and employee. They were not friends or familiar enough to allow herself such liberties. As much as she wished to.

  “I am fine,” she said, retrieving her work and forcing her eyes away from the delightful scene in front of her.

  Phillip lay cuddled into Captain Ashbrook’s good side. The gentleman had a children’s book open and was reading from it. Phillip had hardly allowed the poor captain a break since Mina had brought it by that evening, and yet Captain Ashbrook appeared to be enjoying it as much as Phillip. Her little man looked so contented there, and the sight of it brought tears to Tabby’s eyes. This was what she wanted for Phillip. A happy childhood. One where he was cherished and loved, not shoved aside and shouted at.

  That was not fair of her. Tabby knew that. Joshua cared for Phillip. It may be buried deep in his heart, but it was there. During their good moments, Tabby could see it.

  But Tabby was lying to herself. Or refusing to see the truth of the matter, at any rate. It wasn’t the sight of Phillip so happy that made her heart light enough to float away. At least, not in its entirety. It was Captain Ashbrook.

  He glanced at her, and she dropped her eyes, returning to her work, and a moment later, he continued with the story. His voice reminded her of a cello, low and melodious, murmuring the words in a gentle hum. Tabby had never thought that a speaking voice could be attractive, but Captain Ashbrook certainly had one.

  No. This would not do. She could not allow herself such thoughts. Every moment spent dwelling on such things gave them more strength in her heart. Even the smallest of them latched onto her, infecting her soul, and she could not allow herself to be overpowered.

  Tabby cast her thoughts to her husband, searching for those specks of good that helped her through the dark times. Sorting through her memories and feelings, Tabby hunted for anything to strengthen her resolve, but there was nothing. Not a single thing to which Tabby could cling. The only blessing that had come from Joshua Russell was Phillip.

  Picturing the Joshua from their courtship, Tabby tried to summon a spark of feeling for him, but the only one that came to the surface was disgust. Her fingers moved the needle through the fabric, her hands going through the motions as anger filled her. There was no denying it. No hiding it once it had been discovered. There was nothing left of the young love she had once felt for him. Tabby despised her husband.

  Dropping the mending on her lap, Tabby begged to be excused, rushing out of the room before Phillip or Captain Ashbrook could stop her. She hurried through the house, not stopping until she was safely hidden in her bedchamber. Tears ran down her cheeks as she mourned the decision she had made, cursing the blind naiveté that had tied her to such a useless man.

  Knowing that Joshua had given her Phillip had helped to keep the resentment from growing into this ugly thing twisting her heart, but it was impossible to rein in any longer. And Tabby could not feign ignorance as to the origin of the shift.

  Graham. Tabby allowed his name to sit in her mind, unchallenged. Just for this moment. Graham had changed everything.

  Tabby had feelings for him. She refused to consider any word that signified something deeper than that. To step over such a line would be her ruin, but it was foolish to deny the truth. She cared for Graham. Deeply. She had spent nearly every hour of the last few months at his side, and though he was frustrating at times, he was such a good man. The type Tabby had hoped Joshua would be.

  The hopelessness of her situation weighed on her heart until it threatened to rip in two. Married to one man, yet wishing it were another.

  Tabby swiped at the tears. No. She could not even think such a thing. What was done was done, and allowing herself to believe otherwise for even a moment would only bring more pain.

  Standing in the middle of her room, Tabby fought her feelings. Her heart ached to run to Graham, to wish that all could be different. But there was no changing her circumstances, and she could not allow herself to fantasize about a future with Captain Ashbrook.

  Tabby took several deep breaths. Her feelings may be pulling her one way, but there was no doubt in her mind that she could not give in to them. She was no
animal to be driven by her emotions and instincts. No matter how terrible Joshua may be, he was her husband. She may have been an impetuous young miss when she’d spoken her wedding vows, but that did not diminish the fact that she had said the words of her own free will. The promise she had made had not been contingent on Joshua keeping his, and his actions did not diminish the fact that she was bound to him.

  For good or bad, Tabby had chosen Joshua Russell, and there was no undoing it.

  And Tabby knew what needed to be done. Stepping to her desk, she pulled out paper and wrote a letter to the Wilton Servant Registry. No matter how good her pay, it was not worth the potential cost. There was only so much temptation she could withstand, and Tabby refused to test her limits any further. The sooner she was able to find a new position, the better.

  Chapter 22

  Humming, Tabby shifted the basket in her arms, moving it so she could see the stairs as she descended to the ground floor.

  “James?” she called, and the footman appeared before her foot hit the last step. “Please take this to the main house,” she said, handing the laundry over. With a nod, he took it and hurried out the front door, leaving Tabby to follow the sounds of Phillip’s giggles.

  Pushing open the kitchen door, Tabby found yet another mess. With each bake, the captain and Phillip were getting better at containing the disaster, but they were a long way from being clean.

  “Mama!” cried Phillip, a smear of batter covering his forehead. “We are making lemon maddylines.”

  Grabbing a towel from the table, Tabby scrubbed Phillip’s face. “Is that so?”

  “Mrs. Bunting got the recipe from the cook at Avebury Park,” said Captain Ashbrook. “They are the best I’ve ever had, and we wanted to try our hand at making them.”

  Tabby glanced over at the captain and nearly laughed at the boyish glee on his face and the flour across his cheeks that matched Phillip’s. She reached to wipe it away but caught herself and covered it by wiping at Phillip’s face again.