by Jennifer Joy
Instead, she asked, "Is that why you called today? To warn us?"
Mother raised her wrinkled hand to Arabella’s cheek. “I had to see you. To hold my precious girl and reassure her that her mother is so sorry. That she still loves her dearly. That she never stopped loving her.”
Arabella turned her face into her mother’s hand, kissing her palm until the tears subsided while Mother stroked her hair. She was grateful for Mr. Tanner’s handkerchief.
Raising her head and sitting taller, Mother addressed Mr. Darcy, "I appreciate what you have done for my daughter, and I beg you to continue to extend your protection to her though I have no right to presume on your kindness. I have already lost one child. I could not bear to lose another." Shifting her gaze to Mr. Tanner, she added, "Please, will you reassure me you will keep her safe?"
Mr. Darcy nodded, but Mother paid him no heed. Her eyes did not depart from Mr. Tanner. When he was not quick to reply, she asked desperately, "You do care for her, do you not?"
Arabella was mortified until she saw Mr. Tanner's ears turn bright red. Embarrassment quickly turned to elation as he shifted his weight uncomfortably in his seat and Arabella felt Elizabeth and Georgiana's eyes smiling on her.
Mr. Tanner cared for her. He knew her faults, he understood the troubles her impulsive nature had caused, and he cared for her.
Arabella held onto her mother's hands as tightly as she squeezed them earlier for fear of floating away in her elation.
Unfortunately, Mr. Tanner said, "I merely do what any man would do for a friend."
Elizabeth raised her hand to her forehead, and Georgiana rolled her eyes. As for Arabella, she came crashing back to the ground and harsh, bitter reality. She knew Mr. Tanner admired her. She felt it every time their fingers touched, every time his gaze held hers tenderly when he spoke to her. Every time he spoke of his childhood and revealed a piece of himself she was certain he had never shared with anyone else. It made her heart melt to watch the effort with which the burly man attempted to be gentle when he danced with her. Surely, he regarded her a touch more highly than a common friend? Her uncertain thoughts gave way to miserable doubt, leaving Arabella to feel as if she had lost something valuable. Something she cherished.
Ignoring the tension in the room, Mother said, "I do not believe in coincidences, Mr. Tanner. There is a reason Ambrose came here and I found those letters when I did. Friend or not, I feel your presence and that of the Darcys in our lives is nothing short of providential."
Arabella went full circle to mortification again.
Elizabeth gave Mr. Darcy a look, nudging her chin in Arabella's direction. She might have spoken plainly, "Do something," for all the subtlety of her gestures.
Mr. Darcy chuckled softly. "Do you hear that, Tanner? You are providential — a gift from the heavens."
Tanner grumbled, "And you are a pest."
“Get accustomed to it,” Mr. Darcy said through his smile. “You have yet to reply to Mrs. Hardcastle’s request.”
Mr. Tanner looked into Mother’s eyes, his intensity adding weight to his words when he said, “I give you my word. I will protect your daughter.”
He might as well have been wearing shining armor, Brutus rearing on his hind legs (Arabella would never dream of replacing the black beauty with a white steed) as Tanner pulled his sword from his sheath and lifted it so that the sun gleamed off its surface in a symbol of heroic honor and hope.
Tanner’s promise had the desired effect on Mother. Her hands loosened their vice-like grip on Arabella's. "Thank you, Mr. Tanner. You and Mr. Darcy remind me of how Ambrose used to tease Arabella. Brothers often take pleasure in tormenting their younger siblings."
Her innocent comment, made in ignorance, hit too close to the truth, and Arabella pitied Tanner the burden he placed upon himself. His back stiffened, but Mother did not notice. She rose to depart.
Arabella was not ready for her mother to leave. Her visit had been too brief, whetting Arabella's appetite and leaving her craving more.
But wait she must. They had a ball to attend and a murderer to catch.
Chapter 13
Tanner paced the entrance hall while Darcy waited patiently at the bottom of the stairs, one arm draped over the banister in a relaxed pose. Tanner could not relax.
They had spent the remainder of the day wandering London in their persistent and untiring search for the elusive answers to their questions.
They had discovered that while Ambrose Hardcastle had frequented the gambling dens, he rarely gambled. One of his peers let it slip that Hardcastle had formerly been a heavy gambler, but he had tightened his grip around his pocketbook a couple of years ago.
Tanner did not know what to make of it. Men were often killed in money disputes, but Ambrose did not appear to owe anybody.
Tanner glanced at the clock. "How much longer do they need?"
Darcy cast him a look brimming with pity and laughter. "It takes as long as it takes. You will soon learn that the wait is well worth it."
Tanner resumed his pacing, feeling ridiculous in the snug breeches and high pointy collars he wore. He felt like a stuffed peacock. He avoided the mirror beside the doorway. It had been all he could do to stand still before the mirror while Lawrence had tied his cravat. Everything he had sworn he would never become glared back at him in the glass, making him ill — in soul and in humor.
He had circled the room and was about to make another round when a movement at the top of the steps stopped him in place. Mrs. Elizabeth and Arabella walked with their arms looped through Georgiana’s between them.
Darcy muttered, "I never tire of seeing her like this."
Tanner knew he spoke of his own wife, but he could not pull his eyes away from the vision descending the stairs in the pink gown the same color as the blush in her cheeks and the rosebuds adorning her braided hair.
He swallowed before he drooled all over his freshly polished boots.
Mrs. Hardcastle had called her Bella. It suited her. She was heart-achingly beautiful.
Conveyances lined the street leading to Lady Templeton's circular drive. Tanner turned to look out of the carriage at the grand house. Light poured through the open windows, and Tanner spotted ladies leaning out of them, fanning their faces and flirting with the groups of gentlemen clumped around them.
The night was cool, but it must be an inferno inside the house. In his stiff collars and puffy cravat, Tanner already sensed the evening would be an eternal torment.
"How will we find Lord Lofton in this crush?" asked Georgiana, looking worriedly at the string of carriages before them.
Darcy grumbled, "It looks as if she invited everyone in town."
His ill humor cheered Tanner. At least he was not the only miserable soul in the carriage.
"It was to be expected. Sir Francis and Lady Templeton's wealth came from his grandfather's trade, and while he was granted a knighthood, they would much rather be accepted by the higher circles. Her extravagant balls are meant to impress them so much, the taint of trade is more easily overlooked," Mrs. Elizabeth explained.
"A lot of good it will do us to come here if we cannot find Lord Lofton," Darcy retorted.
Georgiana, accustomed to her brother's taciturn manners, covered her smile with a gloved hand.
Mrs. Elizabeth patted his hand. "Then it is to our advantage that you and Tanner are so exceptionally tall."
Her teasing cheer softened Darcy's mood, but it did nothing to improve Tanner's. He already felt ridiculous — an impostor in gentleman's clothing. Being a head taller than most of the gentlemen present would only make him stand out like a sore thumb.
Finally, it was their turn to alight from the carriage. A scarlet-colored carpet ran up the length of the steps leading to the entrance where laughter, conversation, and music poured out of the doors and windows.
Perfume — from the ladies’ toilet water and from the bountiful flower arrangements — overwhelmed Tanner's senses with its sickeningly sweet scen
t. Looking around the entrance hall and as far as he could see into the open rooms, he saw an absurd number of hothouse flowers stuffed into brightly painted planters, arranged in ladies' hair, stuffed into turbans and gentleman’s button holes…. Flowers were everywhere.
He stepped back toward the door, desirous of a fresh breath of air, but Georgiana pushed him forward.
"We must first greet our hostess. You will soon grow accustomed to the perfume," she said.
Tanner did not think he would ever get used to it. He did not want to.
Georgiana added with an impish grin, “If your nostrils do not lose their sense of smell first.”
“You might have warned me,” he replied, to which she mischievously deepened her smile, making Tanner wonder of what other marvels of high society she did not warn him.
He bowed and smiled when he was supposed to, feeling as stiff as a board in his restrictive clothing. He prayed the stitches held with every bend.
Returning to an upright position, his face burning when Lady Templeton looked at him from head to toe and up again, Tanner did not have time to recover fully before he heard Lord Lofton's voice.
"Mr. Darcy, I am pleased to see you here with your party." Looking at Arabella, he held out his arm, confident she would take it. "If Miss Darcy is willing to spare her companion, might I have the honor of Miss Hardcastle's first dance? For old times' sake?"
Jealousy consumed Tanner, abated only by the prospect that Arabella might learn everything they needed from Lord Lofton, allowing him to retire early.
"What an excellent idea!" Mrs. Elizabeth exclaimed. "What better occupation than to dance at a ball." She turned to Darcy expectantly, and he held his arm out for her as she had clearly anticipated he would.
Tanner had spotted a group of gentlemen drinking near a wall, and he thought it was as good a place to begin his investigation as any … until two blue eyes looked up at him, smiling her little smile and tapping her slippered foot in rhythm to the music playing in the ballroom.
He could not ignore Georgiana or leave her, no matter how badly he did not wish to dance.
Gritting his teeth together, he took a deep breath and held his arm up. "Would you like to dance, Miss Darcy?"
A gaggle of young ladies, no older than Georgiana, giggled behind their fans. Tanner did not recall saying anything to provoke their laughter.
She grinned. "I would be delighted to, Mr. Tanner," she said, sashaying past the group of silly young ladies with her head high.
"Friends of yours?" Tanner asked as he led her into the ballroom.
"They are horrid. And they hate me right now.”
“Why should they hate you?” He could not fathom how it was possible for anyone to hate Georgiana when she was nearly perfect.
“You asked me to dance with you.”
Tanner scoffed. “What does that signify? I am hardly the only gentleman here,” he said, scanning the multitude to prove his point.
She lowered her voice, so he had to strain to hear her over the crowd. “No matter how much you detest society’s attention, you are quite possibly the most striking figure in these rooms. Not to mention the handsomest … you and William. But he is married, so he does not count.”
Tanner blurted out the only reply that came to him in the midst of his horror. “They need spectacles. The lot of them.”
Georgiana laughed. “Even without spectacles, you are impossible not to see.”
And now he would make a greater spectacle of himself by hopping around in the middle of the room. He took his place opposite Georgiana and tried to shrink into himself when he was without a doubt the biggest man standing in the long line of gentlemen. A giant oaf.
The music began, and he was grateful it was the first dance he had learned. It was the one he knew the best. So long as he did not turn the wrong way or trip over his own clumsy feet, at least he would not embarrass his family. He only needed to focus on Georgiana and the steps.
Easier said than done when he heard Arabella’s laugh drift up to him from farther down the row. It was not a forced laugh, nor did her smile show any restraint. Drat it all.
Georgiana cleared her throat, pulling his attention back to her — where it would have stayed easily enough were it not for the pull of jealousy challenging him to act upon the savage instinct to bash Lord Lofton over the head.
Society would frown on that.
“You are a splendid dancer,” Georgiana said.
Tanner nearly turned the wrong way at the compliment. He had forgotten he was dancing. “You are an excellent teacher,” he replied.
“I only played the music. Mrs. Annesley deserves the credit.” Georgiana arched an eyebrow and watched him intently. The little imp. Did she miss nothing?
Intent on his observant little sister, Tanner did not see the floor reach up to trip him until he stumbled forward inelegantly, catching himself just before colliding into Georgiana and the lady beside her.
He looked at the problematic spot, but the floor was smooth. Pausing to remember the steps, Tanner soon found his rhythm again, but he felt the stares of dozens of eyes on him along with every giggle and snort in his direction.
“I apologize, Geor — er, Miss Darcy,” he said, disturbed he should reflect poorly on his dancing partner more so than his own embarrassment. He could not even remember how to address his own sister so as not to betray their connection.
He may as well wear a large sign around his neck reading: Jonathan Tanner, fake gentleman, illegitimate son, and all-around shame. Befriend at your own peril.
Georgiana’s lack of a response made him look up, and the expression on her face would have wilted a greater man than him. “What is it?” he asked, not daring to look behind him lest he lose his footing again.
Glaring daggers at someone past his shoulder, she said, “He did it on purpose. I saw it. He tripped you with his cane, and just now, I saw him nod at Lord Lofton. I bet they planned it. Oh, his lordship is a viper!” she hissed. Directing her attention to Tanner fully as they spun with their palms together, she said, “Men like him are accustomed to getting away with everything. I know he has the reputation of being amiable and merry, but I do not like him at all.”
Hearing his own opinion of the viscount justified brought Tanner a measure of comfort and a large dose of conviction.
If only there was a way he could find out what Lord Lofton knew about Ambrose. Tanner held no delusions the gentleman would disclose the full truth to him when deception was ingrained in his character — so much so that Georgiana recognized it. Why did Arabella not see it?
Even now, she smiled at Lord Lofton, conversing like they were the best of friends.
Tanner did not remember when the music ended or when he walked to the edge of the dance floor, but he soon found himself standing beside Darcy.
“Admirable job covering up your blunder. Hardly anyone noticed,” Darcy said.
Mrs. Elizabeth added, “That is nothing. Lydia pretends to trip over the hem of her dress to conveniently fall into the arms of the handsomest gentleman at a ball.”
Georgiana’s delicate nostrils flared. “A man with a cane tripped him. I believe it was done on purpose, and Lord Lofton may have instigated it.”
Darcy rubbed his chin. “You are certain of what you saw?”
He needed no further answer than the glare she granted him.
Arabella joined them, a glass of punch in one hand and Lord Lofton on her other side. Blast it, was Tanner supposed to have offered to bring Georgiana a refreshment after their dance? It irked him that his lordship was not only exceedingly more graceful in the ballroom, but infinitely more thoughtful in his manners.
One look at Arabella’s happy smiles and at the ease which bespoke years of trust in Lord Lofton’s company disheartened Tanner. Then again, why would she notice him at all when Lofty Lofton was in the same room? (Hmm … Lofty … He liked that.)
Before his lordship could gush about what a marvelous dance partner Arabella m
ade or how diverting the ball was … or whatever polite foolery these gentle folks yammered about, a high-pitched voice interrupted them.
“Oh, Lord Lofton, I did not know you were here!”
Tanner kept his mouth closed, but his shock at seeing a woman so similar to Mrs. Bennet made him gasp and glance at Mrs. Elizabeth. She nodded sadly and took care to introduce the lady as Mrs. Chufton (who eyed him from head to toe and back again).
“How fortunate to have two handsome young men available to dance with the ladies. I do hope you will save a dance for each of my daughters,” Mrs. Chufton said, continuing without pausing for breath, “You had better act in haste, though. My girls are so very accomplished, I fear they are in high demand. But never let it be said my girls neglected the two most eligible gentlemen at a ball! A viscount and a relative of the Darcys! Dear me, no, I must call my daughters over here immediately lest you miss out on their company.”
Yes, Mrs. Chufton was the wealthy reincarnation of Mrs. Bennet. When she pulled out her fan to flutter at her face, Tanner half-expected her to begin complaining of her nerves. He liked her. As did Mrs. Elizabeth. She watched the ambitious matron with the tenderness of one whose heart had a soft spot for the lady she regarded.
Lofty Lofton caught Tanner’s eye, asking with a sneer, “True. I hear you are a relative of the Darcys, but I cannot quite place you, sir. How close a relation are you?”
Arabella’s smile faded; her eyebrows furled.
Tanner broke out into a cold sweat, but he kept his composure. What did his lordship know?
Darcy smoothly replied, “Do you not see the resemblance? Mr. Tanner is a relation on my father’s side. We only recently discovered the connection, and as my wife comes from a very close-knit family, it pleased her to deepen our acquaintance with him.”
“And now you know the secret of our marital bliss, Mrs. Chufton. My wish is my husband’s command,” Mrs. Elizabeth added, expertly veering the conversation away from the touchy subject. Tanner’s chest burst with pride that his brother had been smart enough to marry such an intelligent woman.