The Immovable Mr. Tanner

by Jennifer Joy

  "He is as strong and capable as ever. Gentleman Jackson has faith in his abilities, and so do I. Why do you ask? And why do I fear your answer?"

  Georgiana rose, joining Elizabeth by the door. "Come, Arabella. My brother has become inquisitive, and I will not have him spoil our fun when we have yet to see to your wardrobe."

  Arabella bit her lips together as she crossed the room to the door, passing Mr. Darcy. The poor man looked more confused than she could recall ever seeing him since he had married. As well he should.

  As much as she wanted to reveal her plan to him, she would have to test his patience for a while longer. She had a disguise to arrange first.

  Chapter 28

  Foregoing another unwelcome call at Sir Francis’ club, Tanner and Darcy called at his home at an hour most agreeable to finding the gentleman at home.

  The butler looked genuinely apologetic when he informed them Sir Francis was away on business and not expected to return home until the morrow.

  Darcy left his card. It was the best they could do.

  Tanner pulled out his timepiece. If he were to call at Shadewood Manor, he needed to leave.

  "It should not be this way," Darcy said.

  Tanner shrugged. "You will be allowed to speak to the gentlemen whereas they risk their status if they allow me into their home. I cannot say I regret making their acquaintance." He hoped the first circles would do what Georgiana and Mrs. Elizabeth insisted they did best: sweep the scandal under the rug where it would be ignored when something more shocking came along.

  They parted ways, Darcy riding to the fashionable neighborhoods of town and Tanner heading out into the fringes of London's countryside.

  Despite the importance of the call and his trepidation in making it, the open space and fresh air relaxed Tanner. Brutus reveled in stretching out his legs on a straight length of road.

  They reached Shadewood Manor much quicker than they had the last time in the carriage.

  To Tanner’s surprise, he was not turned away at the door as he had thought he would be. Instead, the butler led him to a room with windows overlooking the front of the house. Mr. Hardcastle was there, looking as pious as the marble statue in the center of his drive.

  "What brings you to my home, Mr. Tanner?" he asked crisply.

  Tanner was relieved he would not be expected to exchange pleasantries. Pointedly, he replied, "I am here to plead on behalf of your daughter and to ask for your help in a vital matter."

  Mr. Hardcastle nodded for him to continue.

  Leaving out Mrs. Seymour's name, Tanner related the contents of Ambrose's letter. He spoke quickly and factually.

  "Are you in possession of this letter? I should like to see it." Mr. Hardcastle said evenly.

  Tanner had expected the question. "If you want to see it, you will have to ask Mrs. Annesley for it." How odd Arabella's surname sounded to him. He did not like it at all, but he would not offend her father by using her Christian name.

  "You expect me to trust your word with this account and no proof?"

  "No. I could have asked your daughter for the letter to show you, but then she might have attempted to dissuade me from coming here to protect the identity of the recipient of the letter and to avoid provoking the ire of Lord Lofton against you and Mrs. Hardcastle."

  Mr. Hardcastle pinched his lips slightly before saying, "You do not think she would trust me?"

  He was prickly today. Tanner tried to keep the frustration out of his tone, replying, "It is her way of protecting you from Lord Lofton. He murdered your son, sir."

  "You would endanger my wife and me by coming here?"

  "You are already in danger, and I feel it necessary to caution you against Lord Lofton." Just as Ambrose had attempted to warn them. As a precaution, Tanner ensured he was out of the way of the window. "He means to ruin not only your daughter, but your family. He means to accuse her of the murder of her husband — a murder which he himself designed. He has already bribed witnesses to testify against her."

  Mr. Hardcastle stiffened.

  Tanner continued, "Will you see her? Will you welcome your only daughter home? Will you take care of her and protect her?"

  Mr. Hardcastle's hesitation tightened Tanner's chest. More than anger toward the gentleman for his stubborn refusal to see what was right in front of him, Tanner ached for Arabella. She would be devastated if she thought, even after Ambrose's interference, her father still did not want her.

  "She misses you dearly," Tanner said, searching Mr. Hardcastle's countenance and posture for any sign of hope for Arabella.

  The gentleman’s shoulders raised, and his voice snapped, "Do you think I have not missed her?"

  Stepping over to the sideboard, Mr. Hardcastle poured two drinks, offering one to Tanner before taking his seat. He swirled the amber liquid in the glass. "I have been watching you, Mr. Tanner. That you have taken an interest in my family’s affairs is of great concern to me. Tell me, why should I trust you?"

  Tanner understood his caution, but Mr. Hardcastle missed the point entirely. He did not need to trust Tanner if he wished to be reconciled with Arabella. He only needed to talk to her. "I do not think you are the sort of man to allow a misunderstanding to keep you from your daughter now that you know why she kept her distance. She was every bit as hurt as you were, and neither of you are completely at fault. Will you continue suffering or will you repair the breech inflicted on your family by another?"

  “Without any proof? Are you so confident I will believe you?” Mr. Hardcastle drained his glass and looked intently at Tanner, adding, “I have read about you in the papers. Who are you to speak to me of trust when you used your brother to enter into society — presuming to be something you are not?”

  Tanner could not be offended when he had voiced the same argument to Darcy. But it was not the purpose of his call at all. He did not need Mr. Hardcastle’s approval, nor would he dare seek it.

  "I cannot change what I am, Mr. Hardcastle. I am fortunate to have a brother and sister who accept me despite what others think, and for their constant affection I am most grateful. Yes, I am the illegitimate son of a gentleman, but while that is all society allows me to be, I will work hard to earn my place — humble though it may be — and I will help those who have shown the least bit of kindness toward me if it is in my power to do so. I am proud my half-brother and sister have befriended me when anyone less generous would consider me a curse on their name. Believe me, sir, I am very aware of my place." All the bluster such a comment would have provoked within Tanner days before was simply not there. He felt no bitter sting of resentment. It was freeing.

  Mr. Hardcastle furrowed his brow but said nothing.

  Tanner leaned forward on his chair. He was wasting his time here, but he would make one more appeal for Arabella.

  "Please, consider your daughter. Think of her. She needs you. She has been alone, convinced her own father no longer loves her or wants her in his life."

  "You believe me as cruel as your father was to you?"

  Tanner breathed deeply, his patience growing thinner with each passing second. "Ignorance lessens your blame, Mr. Hardcastle, but if you continue to act indifferently toward your own daughter, then you are far crueler to her than my father ever was to me. I never knew his love, so I do not miss it. I was never welcome in his home, so I made my home elsewhere. But your daughter remembers, and she lives every day longing to belong. To you. To her mother. To the place you taught her from infancy to trust."

  Tanner knew better than to ask for help after that pretty speech, so he rose and bowed to depart.

  "Wait!" Mr. Hardcastle called, reaching out.

  Tanner turned, and Mr. Hardcastle lowered his hand. Straightening his shoulders and assuming calm, the gentleman said, "I do not know whom I can trust."

  Tanner did not see the issue. "Trust your daughter."

  "You made your plea, Mr. Tanner. Now, what do you ask for in return? I will hear you out."

  Tanner pit
ied the man. He assumed everyone was like his son had pretended to be, like Lord Lofton was. "I had hoped to convince you to charge Lord Lofton with the murder of your son before he has a chance to carry out his threats against Mrs. Annesley. For your daughter's sake, I pray you give it serious consideration."

  "You want my help … for Arabella? How do you stand to benefit?"

  "I need to know she is provided for and safe with the people she loves, come what may." Tanner's gut wrenched. He wanted to be the one to care for her.

  "You love her," Mr. Hardcastle said under his breath.

  Tanner bowed his head. "I do."

  "Yet you do not offer for her?"

  "Would you give your blessing if I did?" Tanner asked sarcastically.

  Mr. Hardcastle studied the floor at his feet, not once meeting Tanner's eyes.

  With a sigh, Tanner said, "Do not concern yourself, sir. I cannot in good conscience ask her to marry me when I have nothing to offer her."

  That said, he turned to leave, and Mr. Hardcastle faced the window overlooking the path leading to his home (no doubt to ensure Tanner did, indeed, depart from his property).

  The groom must have known his call would be a brief one. He had Brutus ready, holding the reins out for Tanner to take. Swinging his leg over Brutus, Tanner settled into the saddle and spun the stallion around to leave when a rider approached at a happy trot.

  "Blast," Tanner grumbled. It was Lofty Lofton.

  The gentleman swooped his hat through the air and bowed his head mockingly.

  However, Tanner noticed with no little delight the distance his lordship kept between himself and Brutus.

  "Do you surrender, Mr. Tanner?" he asked with hard eyes and a wide sneer.

  "Why should I? You have ensured I have nothing left to lose and everything for which to fight." Just thinking of the deed of his inn — his dreams of helping Arabella make one of her delicious cakes in his kitchen, of working beside her, of sneaking kisses when nobody looked, of sitting with her before the fire at night to talk about her dreams — being held by the man before him made Tanner’s fists itch.

  Lofton's sneer melted. "Nobody bests me," he hissed. "You will beg me for mercy before I am done with you. The crowds will call you weak. A coward." He rubbed his hands together, his coat stretching over his muscled shoulders. With his years of training, the viscount had a considerable advantage. Tanner would not have the luxury of making any mistakes.

  "I have been called many things — and in the newspaper no less, thanks to you. Nothing you say against me can hurt me."

  Lofton's chest swelled up, betraying to Tanner's gratification how his indifference perturbed the gentleman who so much liked to be in control.

  "Machiavellian mongrel," he insulted.

  Tanner sighed again. Really, Lord Lofton was agitating. Like a housefly.

  "Ah, but I am not a murderer," Tanner parried.

  His lordship pulled back on his horse's reins. "Who would believe you? You are nothing — a deuced bachelor’s son."

  If they kept up this conversation, Lofton would soon run out of insults. "We shall find out in two days' time, shall we not?"

  "The match will change nothing. I will have my revenge in full."

  Now, that would not do. "Why? Do you even want her anymore?"

  Lofton laughed. "Miss Hardcastle? Want her? She is used up."

  Tanner nudged Brutus forward. "Then leave her and her family alone. Let them be."

  "Never. Nobody cuts me and lives to tell about it."

  "Is that why you killed her husband and her brother?" To Tanner, it was as good as a confession. Where was a magistrate when you needed one?

  Lofton raised his head haughtily, his nostrils flared. "Good day to you, Mr. Tanner. Tell Gentleman Jackson to have you work on your blocking. I am told it is one of your many weaknesses."

  So, he had spies in the saloon. Lord Lofton's advantage over Tanner in the ring grew. Tanner knew none of his opponent’s weaknesses … if he had any. For a man who kept so many secrets, he had surprisingly few of his own. Certainly nothing Tanner could use against him without the help of those he oppressed.

  A curtain fluttered beyond Lord Lofton, drawing Tanner out of his thoughts. It was time to depart. There was no point in furthering their conversation.

  Nodding his head, Tanner said, "Until two days hence."

  Just as the ride into the country had brought a measure of relief to Tanner, returning to town increased his anxiety. The air was heavy and putrid. He prayed Darcy had met with more success than he had.

  But Darcy's first words to Tanner upon their meeting in the library were, "They are too afraid."

  Of course they were. Everyone was afraid of the viscount, which was exactly what he wanted. He fed off their fear, growing bolder when no one called him to account for his actions. He was nothing but a bully, and if they had been in Tanner’s tavern, he would have grabbed him by the collar and tossed him out already.

  Tanner dropped into the nearest chair. "They fear he will expose their secrets."

  Darcy handed him a drink. "In that, we have an advantage. His determination to humiliate you has ensured you have no secrets of which society is not fully aware. You have nothing to hide and everything to gain."

  That was a good way to look at it. Tanner downed his drink in one gulp, the comforting burn trailing down his throat. "We must hope that where we lead, others will follow. Once the accusations are publicly made, there is no going back."

  Chapter 29

  Arabella rubbed her sore fingers the following morning. Although she, Elizabeth, and Georgiana had seen to acquiring the smallest clothes they could find from the male servants, they had spent the rest of the previous day sewing so as to disguise Arabella’s figure without her trousers falling off (no easy feat, as it turned out).

  She spread the work of their labor out on her bed. It was a proper wardrobe. She would look like a boy seeking excitement at the much-advertised pugilist match. A bit of soot from the fireplace to cover her cheeks, and she had no doubt she would blend in adequately.

  There was only one thing missing. She reached up to her long, fair hair. That would give her away for a certainty. Why chop it off when a cap would cover it?

  Going downstairs and out of the kitchen door, she looked for a stable boy, asking if she might borrow the item.

  Word must have spread amongst the servants. The boy did not hesitate before he disappeared to retrieve a winter cap, nor did he express any curiosity at her strange request.

  Cook winked at her on her way back through the kitchen. "You will tell us about it when you have done whatever it is you plan to do, Mrs. Annesley?" she asked with a full grin.

  "I will," Arabella promised, hoping the story she would be able to tell them was a happy one.

  Returning to her room, placing the cap beside the wardrobe she would wear on the morrow, she heard her door open.

  "Arabella?" asked Elizabeth before she entered the room. "William is in his study. Given the circumstances, we can hardly expect him to be in a merry mood, but I think he will listen to you. Let us go now."

  Losing no time, Arabella made her way to Mr. Darcy's study, followed closely by Elizabeth.

  They were permitted inside after two knocks.

  Speaking before her nerves could jumble her words, Arabella said, "Mr. Darcy, I thank you for seeing me. I have a tremendous favor to ask of you."

  Mr. Darcy laced his fingers together in front of him, his countenance as readable as the portrait painting of him and Elizabeth over the fireplace mantle.

  Arabella explained her plan as well as the motive leading up to it, her reasons for believing it a good one, and how she knew it would help Tanner. She used every persuasive argument she could conjure, knowing the success of her plan depended on Mr. Darcy’s participation.

  When she had finished, she held her breath and chewed on the corner of her lip. Without his help, she had no other options.

  Elizabeth stood quietl
y beside her, smiling and nodding encouragingly at her husband, willing him to agree.

  Finally, when Arabella thought her lungs would burst for want of air, Mr. Darcy said, "You know Tanner would never allow me to interfere. He would resent me when we have so recently made peace with each other."

  Elizabeth pleaded, "That is why we think this could work. You are not involved directly."

  "And if it fails?" he asked.

  Arabella had thought of that possibility all night. "If it fails, I will see you are repaid somehow."

  He nodded. He knew how little she had. "It is a huge risk to you. Are you certain you wish to go through with this? Could I not just give you the money?"

  "You said yourself Tanner would never approve, and you are right. I want to do this for him. His pride has taken enough blows. Please allow me to do this for him my way. I have given this a great deal of thought and have consulted with greater minds—"

  Mr. Darcy interrupted, "With my dear wife, you mean?" He shook his head and chuckled.

  "And Miss Darcy." Arabella knew the mention of his sister would not help, but neither did she want him to think this was a rash decision made on the impulse of the moment.

  He grimaced, now looking at Elizabeth "This sounds like something in which you would involve yourself." His eyes grew wider. "You do not mean to join Mrs. Annesley, do you?"

  "No!" Elizabeth said enthusiastically, adding, "Not to say I do not wish to, but even I know it simply would not do. If I went, Georgiana would want to go, and while one of us might successfully go about unheeded at the pugilist match, I doubt all three of us could.”

  Mr. Darcy chuckled. “How very practical of you, darling.”

  “I thought you would approve,” she said flirtatiously.

  Smiling warmly at his wife, Mr. Darcy then resumed his businesslike manner. Looking at Arabella, he said, "You will risk your reputation? Mrs. Annesley, ladies are not allowed to these events.”