by Jennifer Joy
The Immovable Mr. Tanner
A Pride & Prejudice Variation
Jennifer Joy
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Epilogue
Thank You
About the Author
Other Books by Jennifer Joy
“The Immovable Mr. Tanner: A Pride & Prejudice Variation”
A Meryton Mystery: Book 4
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems — except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews — without permission in writing from its publisher, Jennifer Joy.
This is a work of fiction. The characters, locations, and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Published by Jennifer Joy
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Copyright © 2018 Jennifer Joy
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ISBN-13:978-1-944795-13-9
Chapter 1
Jonathan Tanner crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the fuzzy-haired, pocket-sized woman before him.
Undeterred by his intimidating pose (as he had anticipated, for his disapproval had never prevented Mrs. Molly from speaking her mind before), the elderly housekeeper balled her pudgy hands into fists and mimicked his stance. “You need a wife!”
Tanner groaned. Not this again.
She continued, offering the same argument Tanner had learned to ignore. “I have been your housekeeper since you took over this inn for Mr. Stanhope. I ought to be sitting in my rocking chair sneaking biscuits to your children and telling them stories about their troublesome father instead of clambering up and down those infernal stairs. I am getting old.”
Mrs. Molly stepped closer to him, continuing, “You need to apologize to Mrs. Annesley and beg her to marry the most stubborn man ever to be born.”
Tanner stepped back at the mention of Mrs. Annesley. Arabella, as he addressed her in his own thoughts.
Mrs. Molly’s mention of her was a new argument. An unfair one.
Few things struck fear in Tanner's heart, but Arabella terrified him. Her delicate features and slight figure made Tanner feel oafish and clumsy.
Not to mention the effect Arabella had on his knees. They shook like a wobbly colt taking its first steps when she was near.
Her fine manners, as proper and refined as the elite ladies of the highest circles, filled him with inadequacy and self-doubt — qualities he grappled with and largely ignored with every determined fiber of his being to become the proud soon-to-be full owner of the thriving inn and tavern in Meryton.
The memory of the sun shining on Arabella’s golden hair was enough to make Tanner forget how to pour ale from a barrel.
No, Arabella was a lady through and through. She deserved a life of leisure, not the back-breaking, sleepless work of running the finest inn to be found in Hertfordshire.
“Do not puff your chest up at me, young man. You look like Brutus when he is in a huff,” snapped Mrs. Molly.
“I do not.” Tanner uncrossed his arms and, not knowing what else to do with them, rested his fists against his hips. “And be so kind as to leave Brutus out of this,” he added, resenting any harsh words directed toward the finest stallion to ever be shod (and, incidentally, Mrs. Annesley’s greatest admirer.)
Tanner struggled not to cross his arms again. One mention of the lady’s name and already she had taken over his thoughts.
He tried to look cross at Mrs. Molly for bringing up such a subject, but it was difficult to maintain a frown and furrowed brow when her gray hair frizzed around her face from under her cap.
Tanner had a soft spot for Mrs. Molly.
“I have offered to take on another housekeeper to assist you,” he started, adding quickly when she bristled, “but what you ask of me is impossible. Who would want to marry me?”
“Who would not want to marry you is the real question! A strong lad who treats a meddling old woman kindly is hard to come by. And a hard worker! I am proud of what you have accomplished, Tanner, and any lady worth her salt — like Mrs. Annesley — will be too.”
Mrs. Molly had been with him since the beginning, attaching herself to him while he had learned the ins and outs of managing an inn from his stepfather. When Tanner had left, she had followed him. Tanner had taken over the Meryton Inn from Mr. Stanhope six years before, agreeing on a monthly payment schedule as regular as the post coach until the inn was paid for in full — an accomplishment Tanner was proud to expect to achieve that very year if business remained steady. He had a home and the respectability and purpose that came along with it.
“You are quite the catch, if you will stand still long enough to be caught. I like Mrs. Annesley, you know. She would do you credit, I am certain.” Mrs. Molly patted his arm and smiled at him.
“Mrs. Annesley would do anyone credit.” Arabella could make a dingy room beautiful. Tanner would no sooner insult her by making an offer than he would cast a string of pearls into the mire before the proverbial swine.
Mrs. Molly softened her tone, her teasing banter gone. “It is high time you made a family of your own just as your dear mother has done. She is happy, and you ought to be too.”
Tanner’s heart squeezed before he could prevent it. Fortune had smiled upon his mother, and he was grateful for it. But nobody wanted him. He would never marry.
She continued, “Mrs. Annesley is a fine lady with superior taste.”
Tanner grimaced. The points Mrs. Molly made in Arabella’s favor were the very qualities which would prevent her from even considering an attachment to an illegitimate son with a borrowed name.
Mrs. Molly puffed her hair out of her face. “Well, she took a fancy to you, did she not? I would say she is an excellent judge of character.”
“A moment ago, you called me the most stubborn man in existence.”
She shrugged. “No man is without his faults. If you can learn to be stubborn about something worthwhile, I would say even that could become a point in your favor.”
“Mrs. Annesley will have forgotten about me by now,” he said, hating how his heart vainly — stubbornly — hoped she remembered him still.
As soon as Darcy had left Meryton with Mrs. Darcy and Georgiana the year before, taking Arabella with them, Tanner had put all hopeful thoughts out of his mind. He had thrown himself into his work with all the frustrated enthusiasm of one grieving the family to which he could never really belong.
Aside from the Darcys’ o
ccasional visits to see Mr. Bennet and Mrs. Bingley at Netherfield Park, Tanner did not expect to see them again. They certainly would not return for his sake. Why should they? He would only cast a shameful shadow over the otherwise impeccable Darcy name … and he cared too much for his half-brother and sister to allow it to happen. He was, and always would be, the unwanted Darcy. A cast off. No matter how much they attempted to persuade him otherwise.
Mrs. Molly huffed. “If she has forgotten you, it is your own doing! You have refused every invitation Mr. Darcy has sent. Mrs. Lizzy has practically begged for you to join them at Pemberley … and you will not budge! There is a perfectly fine young woman who I am convinced would be thrilled to see you, but you slap away their welcome so you can stew in your own resentment toward a society you stubbornly refuse to forgive.”
“You do not understand, Mrs. Molly.”
She bunched her cheeks and threw her arms up in the air. “Understand what? How many times must they invite you before you realize they really want you in their lives? Lord knows why, but they seem to enjoy your company.” She looked around the tavern, ensuring the taproom was empty. “Is that how you treat family? Mr. Darcy is your brother! And it is plain for anyone to see how Miss Darcy adores the ground you walk on. Even Mrs. Annesley, Lord grant her forbearance, holds you in high regard. And you have been a fool to ignore it! And for what? To nurse the grudge you hold against the man who cast your mother out of his home after he had ruined her? He is dead, your mother is happy, and you must move on. Let the past be and live your life, Tanner!”
He replied a touch too loudly, “I accepted their invitation to London, did I not? I could be partway there by now instead of bickering here with you.”
“As if you have not been dilly dallying around to delay your departure,” mumbled Mrs. Molly, folding her arms over her chest with a puff of breath that sent her frazzled hair flying again.
As much as Tanner hated to own to it, Mrs. Molly was right. He was dragging his feet.
He had hoped time and distance would help his brother forget him. Nothing good could come from their association. But Darcy was impossibly stubborn. He insisted on treating Tanner like the long-lost older brother he said he always wanted. And Georgiana looked at him with her big, summer-blue eyes as if he was a prince worthy of her admiration. He would hate to disappoint her.
If the circumstances of his birth were found out … Tanner shuddered at the thought. Scandal and gossip had ruined many a family before, and he refused to allow it when Darcy and Georgiana had proved themselves to be honorable, distinct from their father. Tanner often thought he must have inherited all the negative tendencies of their sire to leave the best for his brother and sister. In his mind, they were practically perfect (though he would die before admitting as much to Darcy. It would only go to his head.)
And then there was Arabella. Tanner had avoided her for over a year now, convincing himself she felt nothing for him — that her kindness toward him was merely an exhibition of her politeness. But the butterflies in his stomach knew better as they fluttered in a nauseating frenzy at the thought of seeing her again.
Heaving a sigh, Tanner asked the errand boy to saddle Brutus and lead him out to the front of the inn.
Mrs. Molly grinned at him, her tired face transformed with her rosy cheeks. “Bring her back, Tanner.”
Tanner grunted in reply.
“I am serious. If you do not come back with a wife, I shall have to change the locks and refuse you entry.”
“Into my own inn?”
She pointed her finger at him. “I will do it! Do not put me to the test!”
Mrs. Molly was serious, and Tanner knew her well enough to know she would carry out her threat. Already, he was imagining ways to sneak past her and break into his own home. One month in London did not a married man make.
What would a fine lady like Arabella want with a man like him anyway?
He looked over the polished tables and chairs covering the floor of his inn and tried to imagine Arabella crossing the room to sit beside him near the fire at night when it was quiet. He shook his head to rid his mind of the pleasing image before it took root and sprouted hope in his heart.
She was a lady. She would not want him. Precious few did.
Arabella might as well have been the moon — glorious to contemplate from afar — and Tanner had the entire journey from Meryton to London to convince himself how out of reach such a woman was to him.
Chapter 2
Arabella Annesley placed herself beside Elizabeth Darcy as Lady Catherine de Bourgh, the self-declared matriarch of her family, entered the drawing room at Darcy House.
She heard Elizabeth sigh, and it pleased Arabella to observe how Georgiana looped her arm protectively through Elizabeth's in sisterly support, the three ladies forming a unified buttress against a woman whose imposing tongue shot burning arrows.
“I heard from Anne today. She is recovering well despite her husband's insistence they remain in the country,” Lady Catherine said as she settled into the chair Mr. Darcy normally occupied.
Anne had married the third son of Lady Catherine's rival, Lord Harvisham, and though nearly a year had passed since their marriage, she still refused to address her daughter by anything other than her Christian name whenever she could get away with it. Propriety paled under the shadow of her intense dislike for the gentleman.
Elizabeth answered with a genuine smile, “I was pleased to hear Anne had a healthy boy. How fortunate she married a doctor. Anne is much improved and sounded so blissfully content in her latest letter. You must be pleased your daughter had the good sense to marry such a responsible man.”
Lady Catherine huffed at the compliment to her son-in-law. Arabella rolled her eyes at her ladyship’s ignorance. (Performing the gesture in her thoughts only, of course. Ladylike manners and such…) Had she no idea how rare responsible men were to come by, much less to marry? Anne was, indeed, a very fortunate woman.
Georgiana peeked at Arabella from the corner of her eye, the flash of the dimple in her cheek indicating she knew Arabella’s thoughts as clearly as if she had spoken them aloud. She knew her too well. And Arabella loved her like a sister.
Clearing her throat, Georgiana asked, “Do you plan to visit them soon? I wonder who the baby favors in looks.”
Raising her nose in the air, Lady Catherine said, “If they could not be bothered to allow the best doctors in London to attend to Anne at a convenient distance to me, then I do not see how they expect me to travel to the coast when they could have easily spared me the trouble.”
Arabella bit the insides of her cheeks. It must trouble Lady Catherine deeply to have her daughter defy her so completely and not have the satisfaction of watching her suffer for her poor choices.
Elizabeth caught her eye, and Arabella knew she was up to something. There were a great many things Arabella would like to say to her ladyship, but the constraints placed upon her by her own upbringing and her position as Georgiana’s companion in the Darcy household made her bite her tongue. She had to remember her place and thus show her gratitude for the family she most respected and admired for extending their mercy and kindness to her when she had begun to think such qualities no longer existed in the world … no matter how badly she wished to speak plainly.
In feigned disinterest, Elizabeth said, “Lord Harvisham departed from his estate yesterday to join them. It is his first grandson.”
Lady Catherine stilled at the mention of her old foe, but her voice was sharp. “I am not surprised he would impose on their hospitality during Anne's recovery. She is not fit for company, and he shall make himself a nuisance as he always does.”
Georgiana followed Elizabeth's lead. “He had the most adorable rocking horse made for the babe. And he told me he intended to keep a pony in his stables for his grandson. Is that not wonderful?”
“A babe on a pony? He will topple on his head and meet an early death,” gasped Lady Catherine. “Of course, I ought not
be surprised at his irresponsibility. He always was too impulsive for his own good.”
Widening her eyes, Georgiana expertly reined the topic back to her chosen path, saying, “I am excited to see what you have done for your first grandson, Aunt Catherine. You have such splendid taste, I am certain your gift will be far superior to even Lord Harvisham's.”
Arabella struggled not to laugh at the perfectly orchestrated way Georgiana and Elizabeth manipulated Lady Catherine's pride for her own benefit … and that of her newly born grandchild. The lady puffed up her chest like a preening peacock, her eyes narrowing and her lips pinching into a thin line.
Then, with a bored sigh — to prove how unaffected she was by anything related to Lord Harvisham, no doubt — Lady Catherine said, “I suppose since I am here in town, I might as well have one of the rooms made into a nursery for the child. If they insist on countryside air, I could just as easily do the same at Rosings. The air there is far superior to the coast, and the paths surrounding the park are much more suitable to a young child learning to ride a pony than that thoughtless man’s estate.”
Arabella nodded at Elizabeth with a discreet smile in acknowledgment of a job well done, proud not only to be in her employ but also to be her friend.
Their triumph, however, was short-lived, for it was at that moment Lady Catherine brought up the subject most painful in the Darcy household.
“It is a pity you have not yet borne a child, Elizabeth. It is most unusual when you have been married over a twelvemonth. I cannot call on an acquaintance in town without seeing them embroidering christening gowns and indelicately implying a daughter is in confinement. They do so like to brag. It is most unbecoming.”