by Amelia Grey
“Get better so you can continue to take good care of her.” Brent looked at the two girls who hadn’t moved from the corner. “You will help your mother take care of Prissy, won’t you?” The girls nodded. “All right then.” Brent looked at Godfrey and pointed toward the door. “I’ll see you outside.”
The lad followed Brent. Brutus growled at Godfrey, and the lad backed up. Gabrielle rubbed the mastiff’s shoulder and calmed him. Brent could tell the temperature was dropping. The misty rain felt icy to his hatless head. He wrapped his scarf tighter about his throat and hoped they didn’t have to walk too far before finding a cab to hire.
Gabrielle gave him a questioning stare, but he turned to Godfrey and said, “There’s still the problem of what to do about your taking money from Lord Waldo and Lord Snellingly.”
Godfrey ran a hand through his damp red hair. “I know it was wrong, but me mum gets worse every day. She hasn’t the strength to get out of bed anymore. We don’t know what’s wrong with her. I’ve got to get her help.”
“I understand, but the best way to help your mother is to make an honest wage, Godfrey. I’ll see that a doctor comes around tomorrow to examine her.”
Grateful tears brightened Godfrey’s eyes again.
“Do you have Lady Windham’s dog or any other dogs?”
He nodded before lowering his head. “Two. They are in a pen behind the milk shed.”
“All right. The first thing you are going to do this afternoon is take back the dogs you have, and do not accept any money for their return. Understood?”
Godfrey nodded again.
“Then tomorrow you are going back to Snellingly’s and Lord Waldo’s houses to give back the money they gave you.”
His eyes widened and he raked the back of his hand under his nose. “But how will I pay for the doctor you will send if I give back their money?”
“I’ll take care of the doctor for now. In return, you will deliver fresh milk and eggs to my house every day until spring. That should just about pay me back. Do you have any problems with this?”
“No, my lord,” he said and pulled his coat tighter about his neck.
“If you stay faithful to your deliveries each day, I’ll see to it your mother has whatever medicines, tonics, or elixirs she needs, but it all depends on how dedicated you are.”
Godfrey’s shoulders lifted. “I won’t neglect my duties to you, my lord. I won’t miss a day.”
“See that you don’t.” Brent turned toward Gabrielle. Her eyes shimmered with tears of happiness. She was smiling at him, letting him know she approved of how he had handled Godfrey, and suddenly that meant everything to him.
“My lord.”
Brent turned back to Godfrey.
“Thank you for giving Prissy to me mum.”
Brent nodded once and watched the lad go back into his house.
“Thank you,” Gabrielle said.
He tried to smile at her and realized his lip had swollen from where Godfrey had hit him. He grunted a laugh. He’d lost three hats and had his lip cut three times since he’d met Gabrielle, and he didn’t give a damn. She had been worth it.
He touched the small of her back. “Let’s go see if we can find a hackney and get out of this weather.” They looked around for Brutus and noticed he was struggling to get up.
“Come on, boy,” Brent said. “I know it’s difficult to get the legs going when it’s cold and wet. I’ll help you.” Brent helped Brutus to lift his back legs. The dog coughed, shuddered, and shook off the rain.
Brent and Gabrielle walked in silence, and Brent was thankful. He needed to think about his feelings for her. He didn’t know when or how it had happened, but she’d filled a part of him no other woman ever had. He realized now that she had found that spot inside of him where love was hidden. She had watered it, tended it, and made it grow. And he had to find a way to tell her.
Giving Prissy to Mrs. Jones had made him realize a few things about Gabrielle he had avoided even thinking about. But now it was time to do just that.
They were quite a far distance from Godfrey’s house when Gabrielle said, “I know it was very hard for you, Brent, but you did the right thing.”
He glanced over at her, but her hood covered the side of her face so he couldn’t see her. “You think so?”
She nodded. “I do.”
“I hope the lad has learned his lesson. After the lecture from you, I couldn’t do anything but help his mother and give him a job so he could work off the money he had to repay.”
“You would have done the right thing concerning his mother had I not even been here. But I wasn’t talking about Godfrey. I was talking about Prissy. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you to give up your mother’s cherished pet.”
Brent wondered if he should tell Gabrielle it was easier than he thought it would be. And the truth was, he and Prissy had only tolerated each other the past two years.
But all he said was, “Mrs. Jones obviously pampers Prissy as much as my mother did, and I’m sure the dog is delighted not to be leaving the woman. I’m content knowing Pris is well cared for.”
Brent touched Gabrielle’s arm, and they stopped. Her heavy velvet cloak had absorbed about as much rain as it could, and her hair and clothing must be getting wet. With the temperature as cold as it was, it wouldn’t take long for her to get chilled. Her face was damp, but her eyes sparkled invitingly at him. He knew she was cold, and he needed to find them a cab, but he had to say what was on his mind before he lost his nerve. He was afraid if he waited until they found a carriage or until he got her home, if he waited until he had more time to think about it, he’d change his mind, do what suited him, and never tell her.
“I’ve come to another conclusion, Gabrielle. I’m not going to marry you. I’m giving you the freedom you want.”
Her eyes widened and blinked rapidly. Her mouth fell open, and a surprised gasp passed her beautiful lips.
“I realized if I could allow Prissy to make the decision about who she wanted to live with for the rest of her life, I could certainly let you be free to decide who you would spend the rest of your life with.”
Her eyes searched his face. “I-I don’t know what to say. What about your brothers and my father’s vow to ruin their business if we don’t marry?”
The rain started coming down harder. “That’s no longer an issue. I recently did something I’m sure my brothers won’t like if they find out the truth, which I’m sure they will; but I did it anyway.”
“What?”
“I went to see Sir Randolph Gibson. I knew his father made his money in shipping, and I thought he might know some people in that business or in some way be able to help them. And it appears he did. They told me yesterday that they have leased the space they need to get their business started.”
“That is good news for them.”
He nodded. “And when your father returns, I’ll tell him any negotiating he and I had started before he left is canceled. I’ll be going back to Brentwood without you.”
Her eyes searched his. “You’re leaving London?”
“I came to see my brothers settled. I’ve done that. Anything else I planned to do in London can wait for some other time.”
Brutus made a coughing, gagging sound, and they both looked at him in time to see him slowly sink down and roll over on his side.
“Brutus!” Gabrielle exclaimed and dropped down beside him.
Brent knelt on the other side of the big dog. His breathing was labored and his eyes were closed.
“What’s wrong with him?” Gabrielle asked frantically, rubbing his neck and shoulders as the old dog struggled to breathe.
“I don’t know. He must be chilled.” Brent unbuttoned his coat and took it off, holding it over the dog like an umbrella.
“What can we do?” Gabrielle said, tears mixing with rain on her cheeks. “We’ve got to get him home and do something for him.”
“Stay calm. We will.”
Brent looked up and down the str
eet but already knew this was not the kind of neighborhood that had cabs for hire. In fact, there were no carriages at all on the street. He would need to go several blocks over for that. But this also wasn’t the kind of neighborhood where he wanted to leave Gabrielle alone.
“I’m going to pick him up and carry him until we find a carriage.”
Gabrielle looked at him as if he were a madman. “You can’t pick him up; he’s too big.”
“Nevertheless, I will try. I’m not leaving the two of you alone on this street while I go for help.”
“Brent, you must,” she said desperately. “There’s no other way.”
“I won’t, Gabrielle,” he stated firmly and handed his coat to her.
Brent planted his feet solidly on the ground and bent at his knees. He slid his arms under Brutus’s large body and lifted.
Damnation, the dog was heavy.
The muscles in his arms burned, and his legs trembled as he struggled to stand with the dog that probably weighed as much as he did. He had to give up and settle the dog back down on the ground again.
“I’m going to help you,” Gabrielle said.
He put his hand on her arm. “No, I can manage,” he said, unwilling to doubt his strength to do so. “I need to get a better grip on him.”
Gabrielle pulled on Brent’s arm. “He’s my dog, Brent. I will help lift him and carry him to safety.”
Brent looked at her lovely, emphatic, and worried face, and knew he couldn’t deny her anything.
“All right then, on the count of three. One. Two.” In the distance, Brent heard a familiar sound and glanced behind him. Out of the foggy rain he saw Godfrey walking toward them, pulling his cart.
Brent gave a heaving sigh of relief and whispered, “That boy is about to earn his first pay.”
Nineteen
Grief can take care of itself, but to get the full value of joy you must have somebody to divide it with.
—Mark Twain
Shivering, Gabrielle flung open the front door to the town house. “Auntie, Rosa, Mrs. Lathbury, somebody quick! Come help us!”
Brent and Godfrey hurried in behind her, struggling to stay in step as, between the two of them, they carried the mastiff into the house. Gabrielle led them down the corridor toward the drawing room. The three of them had done their best to warm Brutus after they had found a hackney to bring them home, but it was difficult to do, as none of them had a dry thread in their clothing.
Gabrielle didn’t know what they would have done if Godfrey hadn’t happened upon them. He and Brent had lifted Brutus into his cart. They had raced across streets and taken shortcuts down alleyways until they found a carriage for hire.
Thankfully, a fire was lit in the drawing room. Gabrielle pulled Brutus’s giant pillow close to the fire, and they gently laid the dog down. His eyes were closed, but he let out a low, strangled woof. Her heart squeezed. She knew he was letting her know he was glad to be home.
Gabrielle rushed back to the corridor and almost ran into Mrs. Lathbury. “We need blankets,” Gabrielle said, peeling off her wet gloves.
The woman scampered away. Gabrielle hurried back to Brutus, untying her cloak with one hand and her bonnet with the other as she went. She flung the saturated garments aside and knelt on the floor beside her dog.
Brent rose and handed Godfrey a few coins. “There is enough here to pay the driver for bringing us here and to take you back to your cart. The rain has stopped, so I’m depending on you to get those other dogs returned to their owners before the afternoon is over.”
“You can depend on me, my lord.”
Gabrielle looked up at the wet young man and said, “Thank you, Godfrey. I don’t know what we would have done had you not helped us. Brutus is such a big dog.”
“That he is, my lady,” Godfrey said, “but I don’t need any thanks. I’ll be off now unless there is more I can do.”
Gabrielle looked at Brent. She didn’t like the look of concern that etched the corners of his eyes and mouth.
“Brent, perhaps we should send him after the veterinarian Papa uses for his horses when one is down. Maybe he can help Brutus.”
Brent’s expression was strained but his voice tender as he said, “I don’t think you need to do that, Gabrie. Brutus knows he’s at home, safe and warm now. That’s what he wanted. I don’t think he wants to be looked at or bothered by a stranger right now.”
Gabrielle knew what Brent was trying to tell her, and all she could do was deny the truth of his words by shaking her head and looking at her beloved dog. She heard Godfrey leave and felt Brent kneel down beside her, but she kept her gaze on Brutus, willing him to open his eyes and raise his head.
“Tell me Brutus is going to be all right,” she whispered.
Brent tenderly placed his warm hand over her cold hands. “I can’t do that, Gabrie. I don’t know. Don’t lose hope.”
“Gabby, what’s wrong?” Auntie Bethie said, rushing into the drawing room. “And who was that strange young man I just saw walking out the front door?”
“He helped us with Brutus, Auntie,” Gabrie said, looking up at her aunt, trying to hold back the tears that surfaced in her eyes and clouded her vision. “We got caught in the rain, and he collapsed. He’s so big we couldn’t lift him, we couldn’t find a cab, and the icy rain just kept pouring down on us.”
Auntie Bethie looked down at Brutus and then over to Brent. Gabrielle winced with soul-shattering pain because she knew what their exchanged glances meant. She wanted to cry so bad her throat ached, her chest heaved, but somehow she managed to control her emotions and not let them spill over into weeping.
“But he’s home now, dearie,” her aunt said, placing a comforting hand on Gabrielle’s soggy shoulder. “He’s on his big pillow by the fire, his favorite place to be. He’ll be all right now, no matter what happens.”
Mrs. Lathbury came rushing in with the blankets and Brent helped Gabrielle tuck them around Brutus. He hadn’t opened his eyes since he collapsed, and Gabrielle knew that was not a good sign.
“Gabrie,” Brent said softly, “you need to go to your room and get out of your wet clothing.”
She shook her head and rubbed behind Brutus’s ears. “I’m not leaving him until I know he’s going to be all right.”
“Be sensible, Gabrie,” Brent said. “If you catch a chill, you won’t be able to look after Brutus.”
“You are just as wet as I,” she said without looking up at him.
“But I am a strong man, and you are a gentle lady. I will stay right here and not leave Brutus until you return. Mrs. Potter will stay too, right?”
“Of course. I will do anything.”
Gabrielle shook her head again. She glanced at Brent and appreciated the concern he had for her and for Brutus. Unwanted tears pooled in her eyes but somehow, once again, she kept them from spilling. “I’m not leaving him. Don’t you understand I’m afraid he might die while I’m away, and I couldn’t bear it if I wasn’t here with him?”
“Oh, dearie,” her aunt said in an unusually soft voice. “Here, at least get out of that soaked pelisse and step out of those wet shoes. You, too, Lord Brentwood. This is not the time to stand on ceremony. Out of that wet coat you’re wearing so your shirt can dry. You’re both going to catch a chill. Hand them to me, and I’ll hang them before the fire.
“Mrs. Potter,” Brent said, handing her his coat and waistcoat, “why don’t you have someone prepare her hot chocolate with a little brandy in it? That should warm her up quickly, don’t you think?”
“Indeed, it will,” Auntie Bethie said in a stronger voice. “I’ll see to it right now.”
“No, Auntie, please,” Gabrielle said, handing off her soggy pelisse. “I really couldn’t put anything in my stomach right now.”
“All right, dearie, we’ll wait a little while.”
“Oh, Gabby, there you are,” Rosabelle exclaimed, hurrying into the room. “I thought I heard you calling me. I didn’t think you would ever get
home. Where have you been?” Rosa skidded to a stop beside her aunt. “My lord.” She curtseyed to Lord Brentwood and quickly turned back to Gabrielle. “I must talk to you alone. I have something to share with you that you simply won’t believe. Let’s go to my room.”
Lord Brentwood rose and said, “Lady Rosabelle, now is not a good time for your sister. Brutus is not well. Perhaps you could hold off with whatever you wanted to talk to her about until she can see to Brutus.”
Rosabelle’s gaze darted from Lord Brentwood down to Brutus. She frowned. “Oh, my, yes, of course.” She backed away. “He doesn’t look good, does he? What’s wrong with him?”
“We’re not sure,” Brent said.
“It appears he’s sick.” She stared down at Brutus. “I don’t think he’s breathing.”
Gabrielle sucked in a loud breath, wanting Rosa to go away. She couldn’t deal with her right now.
“He is breathing,” Brent said tightly.
“Oh, well, I’m sure you know about that better than I do. I’m just going to leave you alone, Gabby. You know I simply can’t bear situations like this.”
“Rosa,” Auntie Bethie said, “I was just going out. I’ve decided which house I’m going to lease, and I need to let the owners know. Why don’t you go with me to make all the arrangements?”
“Yes, Auntie, I believe I would like that. We’ll talk later, Gabby, after Brutus is better.” Rosa quickly fled the room.
Gabrielle looked up at her aunt and mouthed a “thank you.”
Her aunt turned to Brent and said, “You’ll be here with Gabby, won’t you, my lord? I think it best if I get Rosa out of the house for a while.”
“So do I,” Brent agreed. “And don’t worry, madame, I’m not leaving Lady Gabrielle.”
“Good. I’ll tell the staff you’re not to be disturbed, and I’ll entrust her to your care.”
Gabrielle heard her aunt leave the room, but she couldn’t take her attention off Brutus. Beneath the blankets, she could see his breathing was slow and labored. She wanted him to rise and look at her. She wanted him to bark, sniff, and lick her hand as playfully as he had when a puppy, but all he did was lie there so still. She would give anything to help him right now. She wanted to give him back his youth, to turn back the clock so he could be the fierce protector he once was, but all she could do was stay by his side and stroke his head.