“Husband?” asked Mrs. Bunting. “You’re married?”
Tabby’s eyes widened, her mouth gaping, but before she could speak, Mrs. Bunting continued. “No, of course you were married,” she said, glancing at Phillip. “I assumed you were widowed. You never speak of your husband.”
Tabby shifted in her seat, avoiding Mrs. Bunting’s gaze. She did not know what to say. It was true that she never spoke of Joshua. Tabby preferred it that way for it allowed her to avoid uncomfortable questions about her private life. When she met the cook’s eyes, she found understanding staring back at her.
“Not all husbands are worth discussing, are they?” said Mrs. Bunting.
Tabby glanced to Phillip, but his sole focus was on devouring the tasty treat before him. “No, they are not.”
Mrs. Bunting tapped her hand against the table and got to her feet. “Well, this calls for a bit of supper. I have a few lovely meat pies left over from Captain Ashbrook’s dinner. That should do the trick.”
“I did not mean to impose,” said Tabby.
“Imposition, nothing,” said Mrs. Bunting, bustling to the pantry and retrieving a few bits of this and a few pieces of that. “I’d count it as a blessing if you’d keep me company.”
Tabby’s heart warmed and she gave the woman a smile, filling it with all the gratitude she felt inside, and Mrs. Bunting waved it off, though there was a sympathetic glimmer in her eye.
“Now, Phillip,” she said. “Do you prefer beef or venison?”
“I think he would rather have hedgehog,” said Tabby.
Phillip squealed, wrinkling his nose, and Mrs. Bunting—bless the woman—jumped right into it.
“Oh, I do have some lovely hedgehog,” said Mrs. Bunting. “Badger, too. With a side of moss and rotten potatoes? How does that tickle your fancy?”
Phillip covered his mouth, stifling a giggle. “That’s disgusting!”
“It’s true, Mrs. Bunting,” said Tabby with a sparkle in her eye. “Phillip eats only moldy bread and raw trout.”
Phillip squealed again, but the sound of Captain Ashbrook’s footsteps had Tabby shushing him.
“Mrs. Russell?” he called.
Tabby sent a look to Mrs. Bunting, and the woman waved away Tabby’s concerns, placing a slab of pie on a plate and handing it to Phillip “I’ll watch him.”
Hurrying from the kitchen, Tabby rushed to meet Captain Ashbrook. The last thing she needed was for her employer to discover Phillip eating his food. Not that she thought the captain would dismiss her over such an infraction, but it was best not to tempt fate. Phillip would be gone soon, and it was best if Captain Ashbrook remained ignorant of the visit and why it was necessary in the first place.
“Yes, Captain Ashbrook?” she replied, meeting him at the top of the stairs. The fact that he had made it from his room on his own was a bit of an accomplishment, but stairs were beyond his ability at the moment.
“I heard your voice and was wondering if you had arrived earlier than planned,” he said with a smile. “We might read a bit more of that novel we started this afternoon.”
A definite Phillip sound came from the kitchen, catching Tabby’s attention, but the captain appeared not to notice.
“I’m afraid I cannot at the moment, sir,” she said with a quick bob, “but perhaps in an hour or so.” That would give her enough time to return Phillip home.
Captain Ashbrook watched her silently, and Tabby worried for a quick moment that he had heard the little boy’s laughter.
“Is something the matter?” he asked.
“No, sir,” she said with another sketch of a curtsy. “Only busy.”
“Then I shan’t keep you,” he said.
Tabby stepped forward to help him to his room, but he waved her off. “I can manage, Mrs. Russell, though I shall need your assistance tomorrow. My brother Ambrose has decided to visit, and Mina wishes for us to dine together.”
Tabby gave him all the necessary assurances that she would be there to help him. It was thrilling to see the captain moving about under his own power, and that he willing to go all the way to the Park was a miracle on its own. With all that had happened today, Tabby needed this little victory. The captain was making progress, and though it did not erase all the pain this evening had brought her, it gave Tabby a lighter step as she returned to the kitchen.
Chapter 16
It had been too long since Tabby had ridden in a proper carriage. There’d been a time when she thought them a most uncomfortable means of transportation, but after spending so many months on foot, she reveled in the rocking, bumping motion as it conveyed her and Captain Ashbrook to the main house; it may be a short distance but one that her charge would be unable to make under his own power.
However, as much as Tabby enjoyed the convenience, she could not help feeling discomforted. Everything about the moment made her keenly aware of how low her status had become. It was not as though Tabby were ignorant of the fact that she was no longer a grand lady, but at odd times, the difference in her station slapped her across the cheek, and sitting across from Captain Ashbrook in all his evening finery could not fail to highlight it.
Tabby may not be dining with the family, but she was not about to appear on their doorstep looking like a ragamuffin. She had dressed in her finest gown and taken extra time to arrange her coiffure with a touch more style than usual. There were no artfully dangling ringlets or delicate twists and braids, but it was as fine as she could manage in the circumstances. All in all, she looked pleasing—for an afternoon walk through the park.
There was no more dressing for dinner for Captain Ashbrook’s poor caregiver. No grand evenings swathed in silk. No balls. No theatre. The destitute lady could not afford any of that, even if she received such invitations or had the time to spare for such frivolous events.
Tabby bit her lips, tightening her mouth to stave off the trembling of her chin. This would not do! She blinked several times, holding off the tickling in her eyes. She could not do this. Not now. Not ever. It was pointless to moan and mope about what had been. A useless expenditure of energy that Tabby would not indulge.
Her life was not a loss. She had many things to be grateful for. A position that allowed her time to see her son. And it was work that she enjoyed. Heaven knows, plenty of women in Tabby’s situation were forced into far more dire employment to survive.
The carriage rolled to the front entrance of Avebury Park, and Tabby ran a hand along her muslin skirt. She was only there to accompany Captain Ashbrook into the house. She was there in an official capacity, and there was no need to work herself in such a state for being so plainly dressed. But years of habit and training pricked at her heart, making it clear that her appearance was unsuitable.
A footman handed her out of the carriage, and Tabby stood to the side to take the captain’s arm the moment he stepped down. Helping him up the stairs and to the front door, Tabby felt a flush of satisfaction. To think that when she’d taken this position, the captain’s attitude and health had been so poor that the thought of him going to the main house for dinner seemed an impossibility. Yet, now he was hobbling up the steps. Even if he was leaning heavily on his cane and herself, Captain Ashbrook was there.
Jennings had the door open for them when they approached and before he could take their jackets, she heard Mina calling for them, which brought a grin to Tabby’s face. The lady stood on the stair, a hand resting atop the growing swell of her stomach. When Tabby had been in the family way, there had been none of the quintessential glow that many associate with expectant mothers. Being ill for months on end had made it impossible to feel the level of joy needed to radiate such contentment. But for all her fears about the child, Mina was alight with it, and it suited the lady more than Tabby could say.
“It is so good to see you both,” said Mina, coming down the stairs to embrace her brother and Tabby, in turn. It surprised Tabby a touch, but then again, Mina had proved to be a most unusual sort of lady. One that Tabby was fi
nding more and more difficult to think of as Mrs. Kingsley.
“Mina, dearest,” said Mr. Kingsley. “Perhaps you should allow them a moment to breathe before you pounce.”
But Mina ignored her husband. “I am overjoyed to have you at Avebury, and Ambrose, too. If Nicholas and his family were here it could be a full family gathering.”
“Graham,” greeted a new voice, and Tabby looked to find a gentleman leaning against the wall.
His dark locks were perfectly coiffed into the windswept fashion so many gentlemen adored; the type that had all the appearance of being careless and easy, as though he had just come in from a rigorous ride but, in truth, had taken more time to arrange than Tabby had spent on her own hair. From the top of his head to the tip of his boots, he was the picture of a wealthy gentleman who toed the fashion mark without stepping over into foppish.
Tabby knew that such gentlemen followed one of two approaches to society. Either they adopted a constant state of ennui and haughty disapproval of everything and everyone about them or turned into the frivolous flirt that flattered their way into everyone’s good graces. Joshua had been the latter, and with only one look, Tabby could tell that Mr. Ambrose Ashbrook would be right at home with Joshua’s set.
“Ambrose,” said the captain. “I am surprised you pulled yourself from London.”
Mr. Ashbrook pushed away from the wall, sauntering over to the group. “I thought it might be nice to take a break from Nicholas and Louisa-Margaretta’s noisy brood.”
Captain Ashbrook chuckled, though Tabby could not find the humor in the flippant remark concerning his own kin. Everything about the gentleman’s expression, from the carefully crafted sparkle in his eyes to the smirk on his lips set her on edge. Such people had no concern for anything but their own pleasure, and Tabby had no more patience for that selfish, self-centered, egotistical crowd.
How she wanted to glare at him and show him how little his demeanor impressed her, but giving the cut direct to her employer’s family would not be the wisest decision. Tabby contented herself with wild imaginings of how she would have done so, reliving all the things she wished she had said during the endless evenings in which she’d been forced to hold her tongue around Joshua’s dearest friends.
“Dinner is served,” Jennings announced, and Tabby helped Captain Ashbrook into the dining room. Once he was settled, she gave a bob and turned to leave.
“Where are you going?” asked Mina from her place at the foot of the table.
“Madam?” responded Tabby.
Mina’s eyes narrowed at the honorific but said nothing. She motioned towards an unoccupied place setting beside Captain Ashbrook.
Tabby’s eyes widened and shook her head. “I cannot possibly do that. I’m not dressed to dine with you.”
“But Graham will need your assistance,” said Mina.
“Graham does not need assistance to eat,” interjected Captain Ashbrook, but he closed his mouth at the scowl Mina gave him.
“Of course, I shall stay to assist with the journey home,” said Tabby, “but Captain Ashbrook is more than capable of handling the evening without my assistance. I should be more comfortable in the servants’ hall until he has need of me.”
“But the invitation was for both of you,” said Mina. “And it does not matter how you are dressed.”
“Yes, madam,” said Mr. Ashbrook. “You are quite welcome, no matter your attire.”
The words were innocent enough, but the gaze that accompanied it was anything but. That quirk of his lips and innuendo in his eyes as he perused her figure made her feel as though she were nothing more than a light-skirt for his enjoyment. A familiar sickness wafted over her, one that she had felt many times when Joshua’s lewd friends made such slight comments. Tabby found a bit of comfort in knowing that she need not fend off more flirtations as she would not be spending the evening in Mr. Ashbrook’s company. Though Joshua’s friends had taught her many ways in which a lady may protect herself, Tabby preferred not to endure such scenes, even if it would be ever so enjoyable to impale the gentleman with an obliging fork. Wretched man.
“That might be,” said Tabby, “but it is not appropriate for me to dine with your family.”
“But…” Mina began, her voice quivering. At that, the entire group tensed, watching with growing alarm as the lady’s eyes glistened. “I wished for you to dine with us.”
“And I am most grateful.” Tabby nearly let Mina’s Christian name slip out, but it would not do to be so informal in mixed company no matter how unconventional the lady may be. However, Tabby also knew that using Mina’s proper title would only cause more distress, so Tabby omitted any names or honorifics in their entirety. It was better that way.
“You are too kind, and I would love to visit you tomorrow if the captain does not need me,” insisted Tabby, dropping her voice in hopes that only Mina would hear the next bit, though Tabby suspected it would do no good. “But joining you is uncomfortable for me. I am your servant, and I am grateful for your friendship, but dining en famille crosses a line that should not be crossed.”
She hated saying it and even more that it caused Mina’s unhappiness; most of the lady’s reaction was due to her increasing state, but some of it stemmed from the part of her soul that was disturbed by Tabby was drawing such a distinction. But she had to do it. It was too painful, too difficult to be so close to her former life and remember that it was not hers anymore. If she were to take that place at the table, it would be all the more difficult to accept her current status when the dinner was over and Tabby returned to the role of servant once more.
“Dearest,” said Mr. Kingsley, coming around to join his wife.
Mina waved off his concern. “I am fine. I am only disappointed, but I cannot seem to keep control of my emotions of late. Truly, I am not so distraught that I should be on the verge of tears.”
Tabby gave Mina a commiserating smile. “With my Phillip, I once cried for an entire evening because I broke a teacup. The thing was not special or sentimental. It was a plain, ordinary, easily replaceable piece. I cannot even remember why it affected me so, but I wept continually the entire time, no matter how anyone tried to comfort me.”
“I apologize that I have made you uncomfortable,” said Mina, brushing away all signs of distress and taking a breath. “Of course you should go if you feel you must, but know that you shall be missed.”
She called for a footman, and the young man appeared, prompting Tabby to follow.
They disappeared down the hall, and she would not allow herself to look back. It broke Tabby’s heart to do so. Regardless of her official capacity, Mina had become a friend, and Tabby wanted nothing more than to spend the evening with her. But Tabby’s situation was far too precarious. Her heart too fragile. Too much of Phillip’s future and wellbeing relied on this position. Tabby could not undo her feelings for her odd and endearing employer, but she could keep a bit of distance.
Tabby did not think Mina the type of lady to dismiss her over a petty disagreement between friends, but it was best not to risk it. More than that, Tabby struggled with the constant flipping between friend and servant. Equal one moment and lesser the next. And each time she flitted between them, the more difficult it was to accept that she was no longer part of the elite.
Life was different now and would never return to what it had been. There was no magic inheritance to come, no sudden turn in fortune. She was a penniless servant, and that would not change. Tabby had accepted that fact, but flouting the proper order and rules of her station made it all the more difficult to remember it. Though she knew Mina meant well, pretending she was a guest only emphasized just how much she had lost, and there was only so much Tabby’s heart could take.
An arm snaked around her shoulders, and the footman pulled Tabby close. “Hello there, you pretty thing.”
Tabby gaped at him, shoving against his hold. “How dare you!”
“Come on,” he said, leering at her. “Just a little somet
hing for my troubles.”
With a strategic elbow, Tabby wrenched herself free of him. Putting distance between them, she glanced at the empty hallway.
“There’s no one here to see,” he said, waggling his eyebrows as if that would somehow entice her to fall right into his embrace.
“Not on your life.” Without waiting for him, she continued down the hall, but he took a parting grope of her backside and Tabby whirled, using the momentum to add to the force of her slap. It connected with his face with a satisfying crack that echoed in the halls.
“What, because I’m not one of those swells, you won’t give me the time of day?” he asked, rubbing at his reddening cheek. “You’ll hand out your favors to the captain, but not some lowly footman?”
“Duncan!” Jennings barked, and Tabby glanced behind her to see the butler hurrying towards them. “Return to your post!”
The footman glowered at Tabby when Jennings came up beside her, but the lad said nothing more as he stormed away.
“And we will be discussing your behavior later,” added Jennings. Duncan’s steps faltered before continuing his path back to the dining room.
“Are you all right?” he asked. Tabby nodded, unable to say the words aloud. She was physically unharmed, but the sickness in her stomach would not dissipate so easily.
“I apologize for that,” said the butler. “Duncan is a bit too sure of himself and was indulged too often in his last position. Though I’ve been working with him, some of his habits have been harder to break. Not that I am excusing him, but I hope you do not believe I would ever condone such behavior.”
“Of course not,” said Tabby.
From the look on his face, she saw that the man was no more mollified with the words than she felt at speaking them, but he held out an arm to her. “May I escort you to the servants’ hall, madam?”
A True Gentleman (Regency Love Book 2) Page 13
