A True Gentleman (Regency Love Book 2)

by M. A. Nichols

  Nausea wafted through her, churning the few bites of dinner she’d eaten. How could she possibly feel that? How depraved was she to have caused so much pain, yet be happy to know that his feelings ran so deep?

  Tears built in Tabby’s eyes until she was blinded by them. Arms folded around her, and Tabby fell into Mina’s embrace. She tried to fight the sobs, but it was no use. Her life was nothing but disappointment. Nothing but the wreckage of what it should be. And it was all her fault. Her fault for marrying Joshua. Her fault for taking this position. Her fault for becoming so familiar with Graham.

  Mina held her as she cried, and Tabby welcomed the support. It had been so long since anyone in her life had been there to hold her up that Tabby did not care that she was making a spectacle of herself. She mourned the broken dreams that filled her life.

  It took many long minutes before Tabby was able to rein in her emotions enough to speak. Leaning away from Mina, Tabby wiped at her eyes.

  “It is all my fault,” said Tabby.

  Mina shook her head. “No, it isn’t.”

  Tabby bit her lip. “It was my choices that led me here and hurt so many others in the process.”

  Squeezing Tabby’s hand, Mina held her gaze. “There are too many people who have made wrong decisions in this scenario for you to shoulder all the blame, Tabby. So, do not try to do so. If your husband had not forced you into this situation, if Graham had not been so stubborn about returning to sea and forced us to hire you, or if any one of us had bothered to ask you directly rather than making assumptions, things would be different.”

  Mina paused for a moment, her lips pursing. “Though, I will say that your husband bears the largest portion of guilt. For goodness sakes! How do you stand it?”

  Tabby sniffled, her eyelids drooping. “You suppose I have a choice, but I gave it up the moment I married him, and now I am bound to him for the rest of our lives. If I were to leave him, I would have to leave Phillip, and I would never do that. Whatever has passed between me and my husband, I assure you he cares for his son and will not let him go, and the law is on his side.”

  “Of course,” said Mina. “But there must be a way around it. Something I might do to help you, for your husband has proved that he cannot be trusted.”

  “There is nothing—” began Tabby, but Mina straightened.

  “Rosewood Cottage,” she said. “It’s a small enough property that most do not realize I own it, and it is in a tiny village in Herefordshire called Farrow. You could stay there as long as you need. Anything to keep you from having to live with that man—”

  Both ladies jumped when the door swung open.

  “Dearest, what is the matter? We were passing by, and you sounded agitated,” said Mr. Kingsley.

  Tabby swiped at her face, turning away from the intruders as her heart thumped at the sound of Captain Ashbrook.

  “Mrs. Russell, are you unwell?” he asked, drawing up beside her, but Tabby could not meet his eyes.

  Standing, Tabby stepped away from Mina and her brother, turning to the door. “I’m afraid I must be going,” she said. Tabby was unsure of when or how to tell him the truth, and though every part of her heart and soul shuddered at the thought of it, she knew she must. And soon.

  “What is the matter?” asked Captain Ashbrook.

  Mina shifted, and her husband helped her to her feet. “Graham, please leave it be,” she said.

  But he would not be deterred, Tabby felt him move closer, though she did not look up from the floor. Her body tensed as his feet came into view, stopping before her.

  “Please,” he said, lowering his voice to a hush. “Tell me what is troubling you.”

  Tabby cheeks burned, her throat tightening, and she knew she must do this. For both their sakes, she had to be direct. Meeting his eyes, Tabby fought back the tremors.

  “I appreciate your concern, Captain Ashbrook,” she said. She had to be strong, though she nearly lost her nerve when she cast a quick glance at Mina. The lady’s face was ashen, her eyes red. “But I must get home. Phillip and my husband are waiting for me,” she said, her voice cracking.

  Those little words cast a spell over the room, holding them in place as they silently stared at Tabby.

  “Husband?” asked Mr. Kingsley, but Mina hushed him.

  Captain Ashbrook did not move. His eyes were locked with hers, and Tabby was swallowed up in them.

  “You are not a widow?” His question came out as a murmur, little more than a whisper. Captain Ashbrook swallowed, his jaw tightening, though his gaze did not waver.

  Tabby shook her head, for she could not form words. Captain Ashbrook turned away, his eyes blinking in rapid succession. During their months together, Tabby had seen the captain suffer through surgery, fevers, and a myriad of losses that had brought the poor gentleman low, but in that one, brief look, Tabby saw a pain burning in his gaze that was far brighter than all that combined.

  Reaching forward, Tabby grabbed his sleeve.

  “I am sorry,” she breathed. “I did not…I cannot…”

  He stared at where her hand rested, his lips twitching. They both paused there for a moment before Captain Ashbrook pulled away, striding to the door. Holding her hands her to mouth, Tabby watched him retreat. Her lungs jerked, but she stifled it, knowing that it would do neither of them any good for her to break, but when the door clanged shut behind him, there was no strength left in her limbs.

  Mina’s arms came around Tabby, and for the second time that day, she allowed herself to be held and to mourn what could not be.

  Chapter 26

  The carriage pulled away from Avebury Park, rocking as it traveled along the gravel drive. The strain of the day had drained her, leaving Tabby nothing more than a husk. She had no more tears or regrets. There was not enough of her soul left to feel such things. It was silly for her to return home when she was expected back at her post shortly, but Tabby needed to ground herself in reality. She needed a few moments with her true family. With Phillip.

  Looking out the window, Tabby saw the pathway leading to Gladwell House. The house was obscured by the trees and garden, but she saw a glimmer of candlelight coming from Captain Ashbrook’s room. Turning away from it, Tabby covered her face. What had she done? Unintentional or not, she had crushed the heart of a good man, destroying her own in the process.

  Taking a deep breath, she straightened her spine and dropped her hands. This needed to stop. Tabby could not do this anymore. Her guilt may not be an easy thing to wave away, but Tabby knew she needed to let go of the rest of it. There was no future for her and Captain Ashbrook.

  Their cottage lay ahead, and Tabby felt like leaping from the carriage and running the rest of the way on foot. Hardly waiting for it to stop, she threw open the door and hurried into her home. It was dark inside, with only the wavering light from the hearth illuminating the single room. Beside it, Joshua was slumped over in his chair, fast asleep.

  Tabby sighed. This was not the reception she needed, but standing there, staring at her husband, Tabby found herself thinking over the years. With his face relaxed, Joshua almost looked like the man she’d married, though wrinkles framed his eyes and lips.

  Touching his shoulder, she nudged him awake.

  Bleary eyes opened to meet hers. “You’ve returned,” he said, scrubbing at his face, and Tabby couldn’t help remembering a time when seeing each other had warranted more than a perfunctory statement.

  “How is Phillip?” she asked.

  “Perfectly fine,” he said, scratching at his head. “I put him to bed after you left, and he hasn’t stirred since.”

  Having not checked the time, Tabby had no idea how late it truly was, but she was surprised to find that Phillip had been sleeping the entire time. The poor thing must have been tuckered out from all the excitement of the day.

  Turning away from Joshua, she climbed the stairs to the loft and crawled up next to Phillip. There was barely enough candlelight to see his little face; his lips we
re puckered together, his brow furrowed. The sight of him was enough to ease a bit of the burden weighing down her heart. He was so sweet and precious to her that Tabby was hard-pressed to regret her life with Joshua. Though his father left much to be desired, Phillip was about the most perfect child that had ever graced the earth, and Tabby would never wish him undone.

  Leaning forward, Tabby placed a kiss on his forehead but jerked away when her lips met fevered skin. Tabby pressed her hands to his cheeks and forehead, and he was ablaze. The blanket tucked around him was damp with sweat, and pulling it away, Tabby found Phillip’s clothing drenched.

  “Joshua!”

  At the urgency in her voice, he came running. “What?”

  “Phillip is burning up,” she said. “How long has he been like this? Bring me a clean nightshirt.”

  “I have no idea,” he said as he fetched it.

  “Did you look in on him?” she asked, stripping off Phillip’s clothing, but as she did so, his little limbs began to shake. Speaking soft promises to her little man, she moved as quickly as she dared to get him into clean clothes, though it did little good as his nightshirt was quickly wetting against his skin.

  “Did you?” she prompted, shooting a glance at Joshua.

  He shrugged. “He was asleep, and I didn’t want to disturb him. He was coughing a bit here and there, but nothing to worry about. It’s naught but a little cold. ”

  “Coughing?” asked Tabby, changing out Phillip’s sopping blanket for hers. Reaching over into the corner where Phillip’s soldier had been abandoned, she stood it in next to him; perhaps he would sleep better with it guarding over him.

  Joshua nodded but offered nothing more.

  “You must fetch the physician,” said Tabby.

  “It is nothing but a trifling cold, and we do not have the funds to fetch anyone.”

  Tabby shook her head, smoothing the blankets and checking his temperature, though she knew it was silly to think it had altered in mere seconds. “The servants have all been talking about a bout of influenza in the village, and it is no trifling thing. There have been a few deaths already.” The word choked Tabby, and Joshua’s face fell.

  Getting to her feet, she pushed past her husband, hurrying to where her reticule hung beside the door. Emptying the coins into her hand, she counted them out. They were far from enough to pay for a physician.

  “Take this,” she said, hurrying to Joshua and shoving the coins into his hands. “You must fetch the apothecary. He should be able to do something.”

  Joshua stared at the money, and Tabby closed his fingers around it. “I am trusting you, Joshua,” she said, pulling his eyes to hers and putting all the fierceness she could muster into it. “I would go myself, but I must stay with Phillip. Please do this.”

  “You think I cannot be trusted to fetch help for my son?” Joshua’s hand clenched the coins, a muscle in his cheek twitching.

  “You have drunk away the money intended to feed your son, so do not act affronted,” said Tabby.

  His gaze fell away, and in the firelight it looked as though he were blushing.

  Swallowing, he whispered, “I never meant to do that. I know you don’t believe me, but I have to say it.”

  “Then prove it. Fetch us the help we need.”

  Nodding, Joshua moved towards the door but stopped, climbing into the loft to give Phillip a kiss goodbye before hurrying off into the night. Sending out a silent prayer, Tabby hoped she had done the right thing.

  ***

  Married. His Tabby was married. The words taunted Graham as he paced his bedchamber. With his cane and limp, it was an uneasy movement, but his mind would not allow him to sit still. Married.

  Graham’s eyes ached, and the feel of his lids closing on them brought a combination of pain and relief. His body begged him to sleep, but his mind could not rest. Tabby was gone. Out of his reach. Yet again, the life he wanted was ripped from him.

  Dropping onto his bed, Graham rubbed his face. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he lowered his head. As much as he wanted to blame someone—anyone—for the way his heart twisted in his chest, Graham knew the guilt lay with his own soppy self and his assumptions. His lips trembled, and he fought to keep his breathing steady. His Tabby.

  It was hard enough knowing they could not be together, but Graham could not accept that she was still bound to the man he’d despised for so long. The man who had ruined her fortunes and forced her into service. The man whose temper and boorish behavior had his boy cowering at a raised voice. Thinking back on every horrid thing he had learned about Mr. Russell made the pain all the more acute.

  With a growl, he surged to his feet. Laying hold of the first thing he saw, Graham hurled the teacup across against the wall with a string of words he had not used in a long while. Not caring if he woke everyone within a five-mile radius, he let loose his anger. And yet, he did not feel any better. If possible, it made him feel worse, for Tabby’s voice came into his head, teasing him for such childish behavior, and he could feel the tweak of his ear to remind him to watch his language.

  Not that it mattered anymore. Tabby would never be his. So why bother?

  And yet, even as he thought it, shame filled Graham. He had not thought he could reach deeper depths of despair, yet here he was. Whether or not Tabby was part of his life, did he wish to return to that sour, crass person?

  Glancing over to the window, Graham noticed the growing sunlight. He could not believe it was morning already. The night had passed quickly as he vacillated between anger, disbelief, and sorrow. Scrubbing his face, Graham yawned, his body sagging beneath his exhaustion. Hours of thinking, yet he had no clear answers or comfort, and Graham suspected it would be a long time before he found either.

  Below him, he heard the first signs of movement from the household. Only yesterday, it had been Tabby bustling around, the sounds of which had pulled him from bed far earlier than of his own choosing just for the chance to spend more time with her. But Graham knew it would not be Tabby downstairs. After what had passed between them, Mina would certainly move her to Avebury Park.

  That thought gave Graham a start. Tabby would not be sacked, but what would happen to the lady? It would do no good for them to be under the same roof, and even if Mina moved ahead with making Tabby her companion, it would keep her and him in regular contact. Avoiding Tabby would be impossible.

  Tabby would be forced to leave.

  That should not bother him for Tabby was not his to protect and care for, though Graham didn’t know who he was trying to convince with such a ludicrous thought. Regardless of whether Tabby could be his, he loved the lady. His feelings were not her fault, and the thought of her losing her position sent a stab of guilt slicing through him. Tabby already had a good-for-nothing husband, and Graham would not add to her burdens.

  Standing, Graham resumed his pacing. With his body on the mend, there was no reason he had to stay at Avebury Park. Surely, he would come to visit his sister, but being there once or twice a year should not cause undue distress to Tabby—Mrs. Russell. Graham knew it would likely cause all sorts of distress to his heart, but for her sake, he would manage it. Propriety wouldn’t allow him to do more for the lady, but Graham could do that.

  However, he had no idea where he would go. He could not move forward with his plan to purchase a home. Not now. Just the thought of moving into the place he had hoped to live with Tabby and Phillip pained him. No, perhaps there was another option. Perhaps he should look into bachelor lodgings like Ambrose had in London. That filthy, blighted city.

  But the details did not matter at present. What mattered was for Tabby to know her future at Avebury Park was secure. As much as it pained him to think of facing her again, Graham needed to tell her she was free to stay. Need to explain it. Needed for her to understand.

  For it was the only thing he could do for her.

  ***

  Wracking coughs shook Phillip, and Tabby stroked his head as he fought through it. With each w
heezing breath, Tabby’s own felt stifled in her lungs. Rocking him side to side, Tabby hummed a tune, hoping it would calm him.

  “Shhh…” He felt so tiny in her arms, so thin, so frail. Leaning her head down, she pressed another kiss to his scorching forehead.

  “Hold on, sweetheart,” she said. “Papa is getting you some medicine.”

  Phillip’s eyes opened, but there was nothing coherent in them. Sliding closed again, he took a rattling breath, the air tripping and catching.

  Hours. Without a clock, Tabby could not know for certain, but she felt them pass as she sat there with her sweet little boy fighting for each breath. Through the curtains, she could see the first rays of sunshine stretching across the world, yet Joshua had not returned.

  Tabby had made many mistakes in her life, but for Phillip’s sake, she hoped she had not misplaced her trust in her husband. Whatever his faults, Joshua loved his son. Tabby clung to that belief.

  There was nothing for her to do. No balm or medicine she could give Phillip, only the wordless tune she hummed as she cradled him in her arms. He may not know what was happening, but Tabby wanted to make sure that Phillip knew his mama was watching over him. That he wasn’t alone.

  “Mama loves you so,” she whispered between his breaths. “Yes, she does. So very much.”

  Never in her life had she felt so helpless. So useless. There was nothing for her to do. Nothing she could do. There was no more money for her to lure help to her home, and even if there were, Tabby could not abandon Phillip to fetch someone. Not while he fought for each breath.

  With every passing minute, it grew worse, and Tabby sat there rocking and singing, praying that each noise outside the cottage was Joshua. But it never was.