A True Gentleman (Regency Love Book 2)

by M. A. Nichols

  But even as those thoughts crept into his mind, sour dread landed in his stomach, bringing with it a stronger question. Could he live like that? Make Tabby and Phillip outcasts? Bywords? Even if he could live with sinning against God and Tabby’s marriage vows, Graham knew he would never forgive himself for making them pariahs. There were already rumors circulating around Bristow about their relationship, and each one pained him. Even contemplating living as pretend husband and wife was enough to twist his conscience into such knots that even the best sailor would be unable to unravel it.

  No.

  As much it pained him, Graham knew it was best to have distance between them. For her to leave. To never see them again. No matter how strong his resolution, there was only so much temptation one could bear. Eventually, it would override his morals, and then all three of them would suffer for it. There was nothing more he could do for them. The only thing left was to hope and pray that for once in his miserable life, Joshua Russell would act honorably.

  And if for any reason Tabby need his help, Graham would freely give it. But at a distance.

  “How are you?”

  Graham jerked out of his thoughts, having completely forgotten his brother-in-law sitting before him. “Pardon?”

  “I suppose that answers my question,” said Simon, and Graham glanced away from the sympathy in the man’s eyes; he refused to lose the tenuous control he had over his emotions. “I am truly sorry for you and her, Graham. I know what it feels like to lose the woman you love, and I would not wish that on anyone.”

  “What?” The peculiarity of that statement was enough to grab Graham’s entire attention.

  Simon sighed, sitting upright to fiddle with the buttons on his waistcoat. “Mina left me once.”

  Graham had nothing to say to that, so he sat, silently gaping at Simon.

  Clearing his throat, he continued. “It was in the first months of our marriage. I was feckless and treated her shabbily. Unintentionally, of course, but that does not lessen my crimes. My behavior gave her no choice but to leave, and I cannot describe how…” Simon’s gaze grew distant, and he shook his head, as though unsure of how to word it, “…devastating it was. Though I am grateful she did it because it forced me to acknowledge how badly I was acting.”

  Simon drifted off into silence for a moment, his eyes dimming. “Those days when I thought I had destroyed our marriage were the worst of my life. It has been nearly six years, yet I still am plagued with the occasional nightmare that Mina is gone—either because I’d been unable to repair the damage I had caused or bungled it again and lost her once more.”

  He swallowed, dropping his gaze to the floor and shifting in his seat. “The point is that I know how hard it is, and I am very sorry that you have to go through it, but I hope…” Simon cleared his throat again. “I know it is hard, but please do not abandon all hope and lock yourself away again.”

  The muscles in Graham’s jaw ached, and he forced himself to relax it. As much as it pained him to hear it stated aloud, he needed the emotional reinforcement. He would not regress to what he was. He would not.

  “Are you still planning on leaving Avebury Park?”

  Graham shrugged. “It makes no sense to buy a home for myself, but I do not relish the thought of living at Gladwell House indefinitely.” Or at all. It held too many reminders of her.

  “Mina and I would love for you to stay in the neighborhood,” said Simon. “Or you could move into Avebury Park again. Now that things are settled with your health.”

  Graham gave a faint grunt and a nod.

  “I should go check on Mina,” said Simon, standing and straightening his jacket. “She is taking this turn of events quite hard, though I am not certain who she hurts for more—you or Tabby.”

  The next moment, Graham was alone. Dropping his head, he sighed, wishing it were easy to pick oneself up and move on. Simply make the choice and be done with it, but he knew it would be a long road before he would be able to forget the incredible woman who had healed more than his ailing body.

  ***

  “I can do it myself, Mama,” whined Phillip, reaching for the spoon in her hand.

  Tabby evaded his grasp, keeping the dinner from making a mess all over their bedding. “I need you to be careful,” she said.

  “But I can do it.”

  With a sigh, Tabby handed over the spoon but kept a tight hold on the bowl, though Phillip tried to grab it. “Let me hold the bowl so that it doesn’t spill.”

  If the past week had not been so utterly exhausting, seeing him have enough energy to pout and complain would be something to celebrate, but in her current state, Tabby had only enough strength to hold herself upright.

  “Careful, Phillip,” she said as he scooped up a spoonful. Droplets of broth fell onto the blankets, and Tabby sighed, accepting that she would need to wash them again. At least Phillip was strong enough that tomorrow he might be able to eat at the table.

  The door below opened, and Tabby heard Joshua’s footsteps approach the stairs to the loft.

  “I’ve got it, Mama,” said Phillip when she tried to adjust the bowl to catch a bit of carrot dangling from the edge of the spoon.

  “Phillip, watch the spoon.”

  “But Mama—”

  “Listen to your mother, Phillip,” came Joshua’s voice moments before he came into view.

  “Papa!” Phillip fidgeted, upsetting the bowl, and Tabby barely saved it from splattering soup across their pallet.

  “Well, hello there, my boy,” said Joshua, chucking him on the chin. “It appears as though I was missed,” he said, his gaze meeting Tabby’s. She read the question there, and she gave him an encouraging smile. Joshua’s grin dimmed at the hesitancy she could not hide.

  “I have a surprise for you two,” said Joshua. Reaching out of sight, he pulled out a bundle. Tabby smelled the goodies before he unwrapped the handkerchief covering them. Two perfectly thick slices of cake lay on his palm, and Joshua offered them.

  “Not before you finish your soup,” she said, intervening before Phillip bit into it.

  “Right,” said Joshua, wrapping it up once more. “I shall keep it until you are finished.”

  Phillip launched himself at the soup, digging into it with the fervor of a man dying of starvation, and Tabby gave up on trying to keep the mess at bay. It was a lost cause.

  “And how about you, Tabby?” asked Joshua, holding out the second slice.

  “Where did you get it?” she asked.

  Joshua’s eyes dimmed, and he looked away from her. “Does it matter?”

  “You know it does,” she whispered, though it was impossible to keep Phillip from overhearing it.

  With a nod, he replied, “I did some odd jobs for the baker in trade.”

  Tabby stilled. “You did?”

  He nodded again. “I wanted to bring you both a treat.”

  “Thank you, Papa,” said Phillip, gobbling his the moment he was free to do so.

  For a brief moment, she and her husband watched each other, and then Tabby leaned forward and placed a light kiss on his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Joshua smiled and handed her the cake, and Tabby took a bite. Spice cake was not her favorite and heaven knows that they could have used something more practical like a loaf of bread, but Tabby was not about to turn away Joshua’s offering.

  “There is a stage that passes through to London every morning,” said Joshua. “And Cousin Maurice assures me he has rooms above his office we can rent, and they shall be ready upon our arrival. I think it shall be just the thing.”

  “A new start,” she said, leaving the rest of her treat on her lap.

  Phillip smiled around a mouthful of cake, and Tabby wished with all her heart that this would be the answer she had been seeking. Sliding over, Tabby made room for Joshua to join them, and she looked at her little family, hoping this would last. Phillip regaled them with his stories, making both Tabby and Joshua smile.

  A knock
at the door startled her out of her reverie. Joshua moved to answer it, but Tabby insisted he stay; Phillip so rarely got such attention from his papa that she was loathed to interrupt it. Climbing down the stairs, Tabby opened the front door to find the footman, James, standing on her doorstep.

  “Message for you, ma’am,” he said, handing over an envelope.

  Tabby could feel Joshua’s eyes on her back, and her limbs grew weak. The only thing that kept her upright was seeing that the handwriting belonged to Mina. Tabby had not the strength to read even a single word from Captain Ashbrook.

  Glancing over her shoulder, James shot Joshua a hard look before giving Tabby a deferential nod. “We shall miss you at the Park but good luck,” he said and gave her a quick wink before turning round to stroll down the lane.

  Standing in the doorway, Tabby looked at Joshua’s dark expression.

  “It is from Mrs. Kingsley,” she explained. “Perhaps a letter of recommendation.”

  The fire in his eyes died, and Joshua nodded, turning to Phillip, but Tabby knew she could not read it there. Stepping outside, she closed the door behind her. Regardless if it were nothing more than a sterile letter from her former employer, Tabby could not read it in front of her husband.

  Stepping around the cottage until she was out of sight, Tabby cracked the seal. The wind caught the edges of the banknote wrapped inside the envelope, and Tabby nearly lost it to the elements. Catching it tight, Tabby’s breath caught when she saw that it was worth ten pounds. Holding that small fortune set Tabby’s heart racing, and she stared at it for a good several moments before reading the attached letter.

  Dear Tabby,

  I know you must do what is best for you and your son, but I cannot be easy unless I do something for you, my dear friend. I hope that your new life in London is everything you wish, but if it is not, I want you to know that you have a safe haven to run to. No matter what has happened between you and my brother we care about you and Phillip and wish only the best for you, my dear friend.

  Please keep this money in case the worse happens. I pray that all shall be right for you, but if it is not, please use it to find me.

  Your friend,

  Mina

  P.S. And Rosewood Cottage is always at your disposal. Simply tell Mrs. Engle that I have sent you, and she will take care of you.

  Tabby could hardly make out the last words as her eyes misted over. That dear, sweet woman. There was no conceivable way for her to need such a sum to make the journey, but Tabby knew it was more than that. Mina was giving her a safeguard.

  “Tabby?” called Joshua.

  Crumpling the banknote and letter together, Tabby shoved them into her bodice, tucking them out of sight.

  “Coming,” she replied while she checked to make sure they were safely hidden. If Tabby had not known her mind before, she knew it now. Mina had given her a means of escape, and as much as Tabby wanted to believe that her life with Joshua would be different from now on, too many years of married life had taught her not to trust Joshua’s change of heart. Not fully, at any rate.

  For her sake, and most especially Phillip’s, Tabby needed to keep it hidden. For now.

  Chapter 30

  London

  Nine Months Later

  Having spent much time in London before her marriage, Tabby had known the city to be a noisy place, but their tiny rooms in the middle of a commercial thoroughfare had no respite from the sounds of the street below. An unending cacophony of movement. Tabby wondered if she would ever acclimate to it and tried not to think of the country sounds she missed so dearly.

  With quick movements, Tabby worked her needle through the fabric, mending the tear in Phillip’s new trousers. Halting between stitches, she arched her back and stretched her neck. She’d been hunched over the mending for hours. In Bristow, much of the family’s laundry had been ignored as she’d not had the time for it. Now, it occupied her days. Between washing and repairs, keeping her family in clean clothes was a monumental task for there was a never-ending stream of dirty garments needing her attention.

  “When is Papa coming home?” asked Phillip.

  Tabby glanced out the window. The sun had not yet set, but the evening was wearing on and Joshua should have arrived by now.

  “Soon, sweetheart,” she said. “Sometimes Papa has to work late.”

  Nibbling on her lip, Tabby wondered if she and Phillip should eat dinner without him. The last few weeks had seen quite a few of these long days for Joshua, and Tabby had no notion of when he might return. However, she did not wish to give up on dining as a family.

  Tabby watched Phillip play on the floor, his soldiers scattered around him. Every time she saw those little figures that were multiplying at an alarming rate, Tabby wanted to smile. His clothes were clean, his belly full, and he had actual toys with which to play. Though they all may be far simpler versions of what they’d enjoyed at Kelland Hall, they were far grander than what they’d had in Bristow, and Tabby counted their blessings.

  Setting to work, Tabby finished patching the trouser knees and started darning a pair of Joshua’s socks. With fall, winter, and spring gone, the nights were growing warm enough that such articles were unnecessary and could await their repairs, but they were the last of her pile, and she was desperate for it to be empty. For once.

  Footsteps echoed on the stairs, and Phillip perked at the sound of it, and Tabby put a quick finishing stitch in the sock before clearing it away. Phillip abandoned his toys and rushed to the door as it opened. Joshua grunted as Phillip launched himself at his father, but rather than picking up the child, Joshua patted him on the head and brushed past with a mumbled greeting. One look was all it took to tell Tabby that today had not been a good day for Joshua; even his hair and cravat were drooping. Coming over, Tabby wrapped her arms around him, hoping to give him some bit of comfort.

  “And suddenly, my day has gotten a bit brighter,” said Joshua, giving her a squeeze.

  She smiled and leaned in to give him a kiss. But then she caught a faint whiff of something on his breath that she had not smelled in nine months.

  “You’ve been drinking,” she said, jerking away.

  Joshua huffed and pulled off his jacket, hanging it on the post. “I needed something to help me through the drudgery of my job. Do you know how soul-crushing it is to do something you despise day in and out? It was only a pint. Something to relax me. That is it.”

  “We discussed this.”

  “No, you decided it,” he replied. “I have had a long, hard day working to support my family, and I deserve a bit of refreshment. Not all of us are allowed the luxury to sit around all day.”

  Tabby’s nostrils flared, and she sucked in a breath to calm her burst of temper. “Just because you never did housework does not mean that those at home have nothing to do.” Tabby crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “And it is never only a bit of refreshment to you. It never stops at one drink, Joshua.”

  “It did today, and all the other times I’ve enjoyed a pint over the last few weeks, so stop complaining,” he said, brushing past her to sit at the table.

  Blinking, she stared at him. “You have been lying to me?”

  “That would suppose I told you I was abstaining,” he said with a huff. “I never did.”

  “You gave your word that you would give up spirits,” she said. “When you were sitting there in the mud, begging me to forgive you, you gave your word of honor that you would abstain.”

  “Ale is hardly spirits, Tabby. I need something to get me through the day!” he growled, fixing a hard eye on her. “Do you have any idea how much of a sacrifice it is for me to work as a clerk to a lowly solicitor? I despise it and all the legal profession, yet I go every day to provide for you, and then I arrive home and you immediately harp at me about a single drink. Now, are we going to eat dinner or would you rather stand around criticizing me?”

  Taking a breath, Tabby allowed it to bring a shaky calm over her. It took at least th
ree more before she was able to usher Phillip to sit and dish up their bowls. Phillip glanced between his parents with a scrunched brow as he ate, but Joshua stared at his food. Tabby poked the chunks of beef and vegetables, her appetite gone.

  Perhaps it was a touch of an overreaction to a single drink. For any other man, Tabby would not begrudge him something so small, and Joshua had certainly been working hard to provide everything they needed and more. So much of his behavior had been commendable that a part of Tabby felt guilty for denying him such a seemingly small thing. Except, it was no small thing. It may be to any other man, but Joshua was not well-acquainted with moderation.

  “Joshua—” she began.

  “I do not want to talk about this,” he said, thumping his fist on the table. “I have done everything you have asked. Everything. I have been a model husband and father for months now. I deserve an occasional ale to help me through the absolute tedium that makes up my days.”

  “But you gave your word,” she said, reaching over to place a calming hand on his arm.

  “I apologize that I am not as good a man as your sainted Captain Ashbrook,” he said through clenched teeth. His eyes locked with hers, and Tabby saw the anger burning in them, but it did not compare to the fury she felt of having Joshua invoke the captain’s name during a disagreement yet again.

  “Stop that,” she snapped.

  Phillip stared wide-eyed at them, and Tabby sucked in a deep breath before continuing.

  “I have never once brought up his name since we left Bristow,” she said, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Not once. Now, would you please stop mentioning him?”

  “Why whisper, Tabby?” asked Joshua. “The boy already knows. Everyone with eyes knows that you fell in love with that man. Our marriage would be fine if you did not insist on clinging to your feelings for him.” Shoving his bowl aside, Joshua stood and stomped to the door.