An Officer, Not a Gentleman: A Traditional Regency Romance (Brethren in Arms Book 3)

by Elizabeth Johns

  They went slowly, and his legs shook and he was sweating profusely by the time they reached the front steps, but he had done it.

  The Duke and Miss Murphy were standing in front of the carriage, speaking. It was good to see them. It was far better than good.

  “Would you prefer Thackeray or Tobin?” Waverley asked Miss Murphy.

  “I’ll be taking the pretty lady, ye daft duke,” Tobin answered.

  “Tobin, thank God!” Waverley said at once, and gathered him into a hug, saving him from the disgrace of falling on the pavement again. “The Duchess is cross with you for scaring us so.”

  A cold sweat was replacing the hot sweat of exertion and Tobin was about to swoon. “I will make it up to her. Can we get in the carriage, now? Otherwise I will be a pancake on the pavement at any second.”

  “Yes, of course.” The Duke released Tobin and helped him climb in.

  Thackeray was lying on one of the benches, looking very pale and feverish. Tobin sat on the opposite bench and leaned his head back. He felt as though he had run twenty miles and all he had done was get dressed and walk down the stairs!

  The carriage lurched to the side as Miss Murphy and the Duke joined them. It was a luxurious carriage, but this would be no pleasant journey with two invalids and two extra people crowded inside.

  “I will sit with Thackeray,” Waverley pronounced.

  Tobin watched out of half-closed eyes as Miss Murphy nodded and sat next to him.

  “You need to lie down, Lieutenant O’Neill. You do not look well,” she scolded.

  “I do not feel well,” he confessed, “but I will not inconvenience you all the way to the coast.”

  She gave him a stern look which made him want to kiss her.

  “I had expected you still to be incapacitated.” She took a pillow from the bench beside her and placed it in her lap. “Rest your head here, now,” she commanded.

  “I would not argue with a beautiful lady,” Waverley advised, looking much amused. He was already sitting down with Thackeray’s head in his lap.

  The carriage lurched forward and Tobin almost retched. Miss Murphy’s hands instantly drew his head into her lap and thinking better of his show of pride, he went willingly. It was not long until he was lulled to relaxation by her hands soothing his forehead with gentle motions and cool cloths. She had thought of everything, bless her. He closed his eyes and rested, even though he could hear them speaking.

  “It was good of him to wake up,” Waverley remarked.

  “Yes, indeed. Though I fear he needs more time to heal. I imagine he insisted on dressing and walking down the stairs.”

  Tobin smiled at the tone in her voice.

  “I see your smile, you idiotic man.”

  “Yes, I heard you call me that a few hundred times over the last few days.”

  Waverley laughed.

  “You could hear?” She sounded exasperated.

  “Quite a lot. I do not know if I heard everything or not, but I know you were there.”

  She was silent as she reached down to pour some water from a jar on the cloth before placing it over his forehead and eyes again.

  “I am sorry about your father and brother,” he said softly.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “We are taking them with us.”

  He nodded, then winced.

  “Keep still.”

  “How is Thackeray?”

  “Still not out of danger,” she said quietly in his ear. “He still has fevers and delirium, though his leg is healing nicely. I do not know if he will be able to walk normally or not. One can never tell until a patient makes the attempt.”

  “How did you know to come back?” he asked the Duke.

  “We had not left Ostend because the waters were too unsettled for Meg. News travels fast between the people fleeing Brussels, and I was able to intercept some of the dispatchers while they waited for ships. I did not know details about you or the other brethren, but I heard how bad the battle was. Meg stayed there, but sent me back to find out what I could. She knew I would fret horribly otherwise. I am glad she did.”

  “Me too.”

  Not long after they left the gates of the city, they hit a large bump in the road which caused all of them to bounce in their seats. Thackeray began shaking violently, so Miss Murphy had to abandon Tobin to see to him. He wanted her back.

  He opened one eye a crack so as to watch her. She helped the Duke subdue Thackeray with more cool cloths and she dosed him with something that calmed him within a few minutes. Her competence impressed him. It was too bad that ladies could not be doctors. She was more skilled than many he had seen in the field.

  He closed his eyes after she returned to her seat and once more supported his head. He tried not to think about her in ways he should not, but it was so very lovely to be in her arms with the scent of gardenias and soft woman surrounding him. The pleasant thoughts were quickly replaced by more morose ones. How would he support her if they did marry? Would he be discharged from the army or would he go back? She deserved much more than he could give her. She deserved someone of her own class who could support her in the style to which she was accustomed. It was time for her to have a better life than following the drum—even if that was what she knew and was used to.

  Nonetheless, by God and the heavens above, he wanted her. Selfishly, he wanted to steal her away and keep her to himself.

  “Why the frown?” she asked as Waverley’s soft snores filled the carriage.

  “I am worried about you,” he answered honestly.

  “And I am worried about you,” she retorted, bending down to kiss him softly on the forehead.

  “Have mercy, lass. I am only human.”

  His eyes opened into hers. She was watching him with a pleading look.

  “Your father and brother would not approve of me as a husband. I have nothing to offer,” he said, watching her in his turn.

  “I beg to disagree. I am the one with nothing to offer.”

  “Oh, lass. Ye know I want ye. Who in his right mind would not? But I am not for the likes of ye.”

  She smiled down at him, making his heart lurch. “Rest for now. We will talk more later.”

  The carriage ride eventually ended and they joined the Duchess and daughter at a hotel in Ostend. Soon after, they boarded the ship to England. Time was of the essence, after all, even though Bridget did not like to think about it. The coffins had been placed down in the hull, and she would journey on to Ireland as soon as the others disembarked at Portsmouth. The Duke had argued repeatedly with her and insisted that he accompany her to Ireland.

  She had argued in her turn that it was more important for him to take care of the living and return Lord Thackeray to his family. She had assured him her aunt would be there and if his ship took her to Dungarvan, it was then only a short carriage ride to her family’s estate. His servants and her maid would be accompanying her, she had reminded him.

  Bridget should have buried her brother and father in Belgium. Her father would not have expected her to lay him to rest with her mother, but she felt it was the right thing to do and people did not seem to mind helping her to do it. Perhaps it would afford her a small measure of peace and the time alone would give her some clarity. She was already a spinster and on the shelf, after all.

  Bridget stood watching the water as the ship sliced through the sea with its sails catching the wind. It was fascinating to behold and she was lost, mostly alone, to her thoughts. Tobin and Lord Thackeray had been settled to rest on bunks in the cabins, and the Duke and Duchess discreetly left her to her reflections. Now that the journey was almost ended, she had to face what was ahead.

  She had no idea how her father had provided for her. They had always been comfortable and she had a modest dowry. Would it be enough to live on? She wondered if she could start some kind of school to teach women to nurse. It would be considered outrageous and most likely would require more funds than she would have. It was a thought. She doubted she wo
uld have enough funds to live independently, but she did not rightly know. And what of Tobin? He had put off her suggestions to marry. She had been silly to think he might wish to return to Ireland with her. Had he not said he had escaped from there? She was the daft fool to have thought it.

  Too soon, land was coming into view. She was not ready to say goodbye and be alone. Bridget turned back from her perch along the railing to see the Duke and Duchess speaking with Tobin. They had been giving her privacy, she supposed. She smiled at the sight of Tobin. Even with a bandage around his head he was a handsome devil.

  He said something to the Duke and Duchess before holding onto the railing and walking slowly towards her. She waited for him.

  His smile warmed her insides.

  “You are looking improved,” she said, trying to be more cheerful than she felt.

  “I imagine I could hardly look worse than I did when I fell at your feet. I do not want to know how much you had to do for me. I know I am in your debt.”

  She shook her head. “If you had not returned Patrick and Father to me you would not have needed my help.” She gave him a scolding look, which he ignored.

  “What is this I hear of you travelling to Ireland alone?” His gaze bore straight through her.

  “You did return them to me for a proper burial, did you not?”

  “Aye, but that is not what I meant and you know it, lass. Did you not mean the things you said to me when you thought I could not hear?”

  Bridget’s breath caught and she looked away as the wind whipped her hair in her face. She did not bother to move it away.

  “You should not take anything I said seriously. It was said under duress. I will do very well, Tobin.”

  “I am sure you will. You are a remarkable woman, but I will at least see you safe to your home.”

  “No. I will not ask it of you. I have since remembered what you said about Ireland and making your escape.”

  Tobin leaned over the railing and did not speak for several minutes. She stood with her back against it and waited.

  “It is true I never thought to go back, but I promised your brother and your da. The last thing he said to me was, Give my love to Bridget. And Patrick made me promise I would look after you.” He turned his head towards her with tears in his eyes.

  Bridget was unsure what to say. She had not expected this kind of emotion from him, and she knew how much a promise meant to a gentleman. Yet not once had he spoken about doing it for her or because he wanted to, nor had he indicated he returned her affection. She knew he cared for her as a friend, but kisses did not mean promises to men.

  “I appreciate you telling me that. It is somehow comforting to know they were thinking of me, but I am not your responsibility, Tobin. You may consider whatever promise you made to them fulfilled.”

  “I will not let you go alone, lass,” he said. “I will follow you until I know you are settled.”

  “It would not be proper,” she said.

  “Proper can go hang. You have lost your father and brother and you need to see them buried.” His jaw clenched and his fists were balled as he looked out at the approaching shoreline. How she wished they could go back to the happy times: walking in the park and waltzing at a ball; laughing at the ridiculous and preposterous. Would she ever be happy again?

  “You need to go home and heal. The Duke has made arrangements for me from here to my home. I will be well enough.” It was not what she wished to say. She wanted to scream, ‘yes, come with me!’, except she had no right.

  “I cannot offer you what you deserve, lass,” he said, as if reading her thoughts.

  “And what is that?” she asked, still wanting to scream. “A knight on a horse riding to my rescue and carrying me away to a big castle?”

  “You at least deserve a gentleman who can support you,” he answered, insufferably calm while she was raging inside.

  “I forget. You are no gentleman. You think I need a big house and fancy clothes. I would have thought you knew me better than that. If you do not wish to marry me, then we will part now. I cannot bear it any more.”

  She walked away as he reached for her. “Lass, no.”

  Without a word or a glance, she kept going.

  If only they had had more time together before this happened, but friendship and two kisses was not enough reason for her to expect him to take on the responsibility of a wife when he clearly did not wish to do so.

  She crossed the deck to say goodbye to the Duchess while the crew eased the ship into the docks. As soon as everything was unloaded, they would set sail again.

  Bridget was in low spirits as she spoke her farewells to the Duke and Duchess, and her farewell with Tobin hurt as acutely as her father’s and brother’s deaths did. Why was that? Perhaps because he was still alive and she had hoped… foolishly, she had hoped. Where was he? She wanted to see him leave and be alone. Would he take his leave or accept her words as the final parting?

  She watched as one coffin was loaded with some trunks into a wagon, and Lord Thackeray was placed in a carriage with the Duke and Duchess. He seemed to be through the worst of his fevers, but they still came and went. Bridget prayed he would make a full recovery.

  The dock gangsmen were untying the ropes from the quay and preparing to sail again.

  This was goodbye, she concluded. Some people were not good at saying the words. Perhaps it was for the best.

  Bridget stood like a statue as she watched England recede into the distance. The wind caught the sails and they moved quickly out into the Channel. When she could no longer see the coast, she decided to go down below, into one of the cabins, to cry in private. It was very kind of the Duke to arrange for her passage back to Ireland. She could not have afforded to take her family home if not for his kindness—certainly not in this luxury. It was dark down below deck, but she did not care. She felt her way into the cabin and to the bunk that had been hers. That was when she sensed she was not alone. Had her maid decided to take a nap? Perhaps she did not feel well due to the choppiness of the waters. Bridget felt around and lit a candle, only to see Tobin sleeping on the bunk. He must have passed out from exhaustion and missed getting off the boat in Portsmouth!

  “Tobin,” she said as she shook his arm to wake him up. “Tobin! You forgot to get off the boat!”

  A pair of green eyes opened and looked up at her. “I did not forget, lass. You did not think I would really let you go alone, did you?”

  Chapter 9

  Now, if you don’t mind, lass, I need my beauty sleep. We have a few hours before we reach Ireland. I suggest you sleep, too.” He closed his eyes.

  “Tobin!” she shouted.

  He sighed dramatically. “I knew that would not be the end of it.”

  “You cannot be here with me. This is not proper!”

  “Hang propriety! Think of me as a servant and then no one will care.” He closed his eyes again, but he could feel her staring at him. He could not simply turn over because of where his wounds were. “There are other bunks, lass. I was not asking you to share with me.”

  “I did not mean here and now, Tobin. I mean when we reach Ireland.”

  “We can worry about that when it happens. We have but a few more hours of peace before we must see about burying your father and brother.”

  She closed her eyes but nodded and then climbed on to another bunk across the small cabin. There was little more than wooden walls and beds built into the walls. It was not far enough away. Tobin could still smell her scent and feel her pain, and when she began to cry, he was undone. She tried to muffle her sobs, but he would have known it anyway. Something in the air changed.

  He crawled out of his bunk, ignoring the searing pain in his head and the strong wave of nausea that overcame him when he moved. It did not help that everything was spinning about. They could not be off the boat too soon for his comfort.

  “Lass,” he whispered as he knelt down beside her bunk. He swept the hair off her forehead and taking out a han
dkerchief, wiped at her tears. It seemed their roles were reversed for once.

  “Forgive me,” he whispered. “I did not mean to be harsh.”

  She shook her head. “There is nothing to forgive.” She inhaled a few ragged breaths as she tried to stop her tears. “That is the truth of it.”

  “It does not mean I have to be a crabby ogre.”

  “True,” she said, but did not argue.

  He chuckled softly. “That’s my lass. What has happened is more horrible than anyone could have imagined.”

  “I have never considered I might, one day, be truly alone. You know it can happen, of course, but what are the odds of them both dying in the same battle?”

  “I know. It is unfathomable.”

  “Now I am all alone, I do not know what to do.” She rolled over, away from him. “Go and rest, Tobin.”

  “I cannot do that now,” he muttered, getting up awkwardly and sitting on the side of her bunk. He rested his elbow on his knees and, holding his head with one hand, stroked her back softly with the other. It was grossly improper, but his mam had done much the same when he was a child and he knew it soothed. He would do whatever it took to comfort Bridget during her grief. He did not know what would happen after that.

  “What is waiting for you there, lass?”

  “I do not know,” she whispered. “I have not been there in almost ten years.”

  “There is a house?”

  She nodded.

  “And the elderly aunt lives there?”

  “As far as I know, she still lives.”

  That was inconvenient, Tobin thought to himself, but he would not stay long. Hopefully, they could make shift despite the presence of the old woman.

  “Tobin, you cannot return with me unless you marry me first.”

  “You know I cannot do that.”

  “Then you must return to England with the ship,” she commanded.

  “Once I have seen you safe and settled, I will return.”

  “You do not understand. If I return unmarried yet in your company, my aunt will force me.”