The Immovable Mr. Tanner

by Jennifer Joy

  She peeked over the linen at Mr. Tanner, and her body melted at the warm embers he sparked to life within her. Pulling the dangerous linen away from her face, she held it at a safer distance from her nose until she could return it. That was the difficulty of being a widow. There was a time when she knew the pleasure of being loved, what it felt like to curl her fingers around her husband’s hair, the sting of his whiskers brushing over her skin, the heady rush of anticipation when he tilted her head up, his breath tickling her face the moment before his lips finally met hers. She remembered.

  Arabella shook her head. Now was not the time for daydreams. Nor should she ignore her problems by hiding in a kitchen or by thinking of sensations she had long since buried.

  She breathed in the crisp, country air and cleared her mind. Perhaps it was her desire for clarity, maybe sufficient time had passed since Nicholas, or, most likely, it was Mr. Tanner’s immovable reliability and trustworthiness … whatever it was, Arabella felt the significance of the moment. For the first time since her wedding night, she longed for the love of a good man again. The man of whom she had dreamed as a girl. Had she been dreaming of Mr. Tanner? She was undeniably attracted to him, but surely she did not love him.

  Part of her — her impulsive, passionate nature which had led to the beginning of her woes — was convinced the admiration she felt for him was the beginning of a love like that of the Darcys. But another part of her — the cautious, rational thinker she had learned to become — warned her not to rush to conclusions just because her first thought would be to tuck herself under his arm if he raised his hand … not flinch and shield her face.

  She looked out of the other side of the carriage and sighed louder than she had meant to. Would Mr. Tanner consider loving a woman like her? She was not so beautiful as she once was. She had scars. She would be a challenge.

  Elizabeth squeezed her hand. “You are not alone.”

  Arabella smiled in appreciation, pleased she had gained the mastery over her reactions once more. And just in time. The wrought iron gates marking the entrance to her family’s property loomed ahead.

  What if they refused to see her? Or worse … what if they were happy to see her when she bore the worst possible news?

  Chapter 9

  The park was impeccably manicured with bright flower beds winding alongside the gravel path leading to a limestone house with white curtains fluttering in the open windows. It was elegant and inviting — unlike the reception Arabella expected.

  "Miss Hardcastle, is that you?" exclaimed a deep voice behind her. She had not heard the lone rider's horse over the sound of the wheels of their carriage.

  Turning to see who called her, relief flooded her when she recognized the rider’s dark green eyes and wide smile. He doffed his hat, his sandy blond hair perfectly arranged. Ambrose had always been envious of Lofton’s ability to take off his hat without bearing its hair-crushing mark around his head.

  Lofton dismounted his chestnut stallion, who received a disapproving look from Brutus as Father's groom ran up to take him to the stable.

  Arabella descended from the carriage and greeted his lordship with a smile. It seemed like an eternity had passed since she had last seen him.

  "Viscount Lofton, how good it is to see you! Please allow me to introduce you to my friends."

  “Only if you address me as you used to, as I refuse to think of you as anything other than the beautiful Miss Hardcastle, my dearest friend’s charming younger sister.” He raised her gloved hand and touched it to his forehead as he bowed. She felt like a maiden experiencing her first season.

  Lofton showed himself enchanted to meet her friends, and after performing introductions and exchanging the normal pleasantries, the groom approached, uncertain what to do with the unknown arrivals.

  Lofton's manners became more solemn. "I do not pretend to be ignorant of the situation between you and your family, Miss Hardcastle. I fear something dreadful has happened to bring you here. I sense your friends also understand your relationship and are here to give you support and protection." Nodding at Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth, and Mr. Tanner, he added, "I thank you for your kindness toward one who has been treated poorly. I have been relentless in my efforts to appeal her case before Mr. Hardcastle, but he is proud. Maybe you will have greater success where I have failed."

  Mr. Darcy bowed and Elizabeth considered Lofton thoughtfully and, thought Arabella, found him favorable. Mr. Tanner crossed his arms.

  That was like him. To think Mr. Tanner had suspected him!

  “Thank you, Lofton. I appreciate your efforts on my behalf, no matter how they have been received.”

  “It is not my custom to forget my friends, nor to allow an opportunity to repay in kind to pass me by when it presents itself.” He added with a chuckle, “If I did not hold myself to a high standard, your brother would certainly expect it of me. He will be happy to see you.”

  Mr. Tanner narrowed his eyes at Lofton.

  The groom still waited, and the butler stood at the entrance of the house watching them. Arabella knew her entry into the house very much depended on her next words, and so she spoke pointedly.

  "Ambrose is dead."

  Lofton pinched his eyes shut, his hand clutching his heart. "I was to meet him today. That is why I am here." He shook his head slowly, pressing his hand against his forehead, his eyes blinking the tears threatening to brim over. "I am so sorry. Your father will be devastated."

  Mr. Tanner said in an embarrassingly accusatory tone, "What was your business with young Mr. Hardcastle today?"

  Arabella gave him her best glower. Could he not see Lofton’s anguish? The man was this close to weeping over the loss of his dear friend, and Mr. Tanner was questioning his reason for being present?

  Lofton, being the tactful, gentle soul he was, noticed Arabella's consternation. Holding his hands up, he said, "Please do not be distressed on my account, Miss Hardcastle. I daresay you have suffered enough of late. The very nature of your friend's suspicious looks and forthright question lead me to suppose you suspect foul play? If that is the case, I applaud your friend’s caution."

  Mr. Tanner answered, "He was murdered in front of Mr. Darcy and myself."

  Lofton gasped. "How horrible! No wonder you regard me with suspicion after such a traumatic experience. When did this occur? Please, let me be of assistance. What happened?”

  Arabella opened her mouth, ready to tell him everything, but Mr. Darcy spoke before she could utter a word.

  "He hardly had time to speak at all before shots were fired into my home. We did not even know who he was until Mrs. Annesley identified him. Mr. Hardcastle died immediately," he said.

  Arabella did not understand why Mr. Darcy did not say any more than he did, but she knew better than to speak when he gave her a stern look.

  Lofton bowed his shaking head. "I am so sorry. I had always held the hope you would eventually be restored to favor with your family, Miss Hardcastle. I have reassured your father many times I harbor no resentment against you or him for our failed arrangement."

  Arabella looked smugly at Mr. Tanner. "Thank you, Lofton. That is kind of you to say."

  "And I mean it wholeheartedly. However, I fear my influence was not enough to intervene on your behalf. Nor was I able to save Hardcastle from himself."

  Arabella snapped to attention. "What do you mean?" Perhaps Lofton would be of assistance after all if he could tell them in what Ambrose had involved himself.

  Lofton sighed, his eyes wincing as if the words were painful to utter. "You are aware of the expensive habits he developed at university. I bear a lot of the guilt, and I have attempted these past couple of years to make reparation for encouraging him." Looking at Mr. Darcy, he added, "Like most young gentlemen born into privilege, I abused the advantages I had been given. I spent too much of my time at the gambling tables and in company which only encouraged certain vices and indulgent behaviors. I was not a good friend to Hardcastle at that time." He clenched his
jaw, creases of anger and contrition etching his brow.

  He looked directly at Arabella when he continued, "I am grateful to you, Miss Hardcastle. It was your sudden departure, your choice of another gentleman you believed to be superior to one who believed himself inferior to none that brought the error of my ways to my attention. For the first time, I saw myself as I imagine you did. And I did not like what I saw. It brought me to my senses, and when I realized the extent of the damage I had caused not only in my own life but that of my closest friends and acquaintances, I was horrified ... and deeply humbled. I vowed to change, and I tried with concerted effort to influence Hardcastle to do the same. But, once again, I failed you. And for that, I beg for your forgiveness."

  Arabella could not help but forgive him. His remorse was too sincere to doubt — and after what she had done to him, she was in no position to refuse him. "Please do not assume responsibility for the mistakes of others. You can hardly be held accountable for the choices of my brother."

  Mr. Tanner interrupted. "You have yet to answer my question, Lord Lofton. What was your business with Mr. Hardcastle today?"

  Lofton rightly glared for a split second before his pleasant manners covered over Mr. Tanner's abruptness. “Of course. How thoughtless of me.” He looked bashfully at Arabella, adding, “Actually, it involves you. Hardcastle asked me to meet him here to help him prevent a gentleman to whom he owes a large amount of money from using his family against him in revenge. He especially feared for you. I gladly would have loaned him the money had I realized how serious his predicament was.”

  The writer of the diary page! It had to be him. "Whom did he owe?" Arabella asked, her fists bunching, ready to demand justice for her no-good brother ... once she knew where to direct her ire.

  “I wish I knew. Hardcastle had been acting strangely this past fortnight. I knew something was wrong, but I had no idea it would lead to this.”

  “You know nothing?” Arabella squeaked.

  “I will make inquiries at the clubs Hardcastle frequented. I promise to communicate the details to Mr. Darcy and ... I do apologize, but I have forgotten your name,” he said to a brooding Mr. Tanner.

  “Mr. Tanner,” Mr. Darcy answered when Mr. Tanner did not seem inclined to say anything at all.

  Lofton looked between the two men. “You resemble each other.”

  Mr. Darcy added smoothly, “Mr. Tanner is a relation from my father’s side of the family.”

  Lofton raised his eyebrows. "A Darcy? I apologize, Mr. Tanner. Today's distressing news has affected my memory."

  "Where is your coachman's coat?" Mr. Tanner asked.

  Arabella shot Mr. Tanner a confused glare. Why would he ask such a ridiculous question? He did not think Lofton had been the one to charge them in the park, did he?

  “I do not understand. The only gentlemen I know who would wear a coachman’s coat are members of the Four Horse Club, and I find their rules too restrictive to be tempted to join.”

  “You prefer to charge ladies and gentlemen taking a leisurely drive through the park?” Mr. Tanner pressed.

  “Mr. Tanner,” Arabella hissed, looking to Mr. Darcy and wondering why neither he nor Elizabeth intervened. His questions were accusatory and rude.

  Mr. Tanner stepped forward, his eyes set on Lofton. “I want to know why a gentleman who says he holds no resentment against Mrs. Annesley would attack the carriage she rode in at the park.”

  Lofton stood his ground, his chest swelling as Mr. Tanner took another step forward. Arabella had not noticed how tall Lofton was until the two men stood facing each other so closely. Mr. Tanner, with his strapping frame and extra three inches, was larger than most men but Lofton held his own.

  The two of them looked like puffed up roosters ready to attack.

  Stepping between them, Arabella said, “This is ridiculous!” Turning to Mr. Tanner, she added, “Lofton arrived moments behind us. How could he possibly have been the driver in the curricle? He was going the opposite way, and he would never be so irresponsible as to endanger lives like that madman in the park did.”

  “As fast as he was driving, he could have done it,” Mr. Tanner glowered.

  Lofton chuckled. “It is no matter. I have no idea what you accuse me of doing, but as you could clearly see, I arrived on horseback. Not in a curricle.”

  “All the same, it was you I saw.”

  Tanner ignored Darcy and Mrs. Elizabeth’s warning glances. Arabella looked embarrassed and angry, but Tanner had got too close a look at the curricle driver to allow the viscount — he could have been the Prince Regent for all Tanner cared — to put people in danger and get away with lying about it.

  His dislike of the smooth-talking gentleman with the straight nose and perfect teeth knew no bounds.

  With a smile, Lord Lofton chuckled, saying to Darcy, "Your relative has not been much in London, I see. His estate must be very far from civilization and society, indeed, for him to imply I did ... whatever it was that happened in the park." Broadening his grin, he added with a tussle on Tanner's shoulder meant to make him react (it did not), "I find your honesty refreshing, good fellow. And if such strange goings on are plaguing Miss Hardcastle, I am pleased to know Darcy House is equipped with two capable, strong gentlemen to keep her and everyone else in the household safe."

  Tanner did not take that as a compliment. As was his habit, born from self-preservation until he had grown into his arms and legs, he had sized Lord Lofton up as soon as he had appeared. Tanner had the advantage in height, but his lordship had the slight build of an agile athlete. He was the sort that made Tanner break a sweat with the increased effort to throw them out of his tavern when they got too familiar with the barmaids.

  As the liar worked his charm on Mrs. Elizabeth and Arabella, smiling and making promises he had no intention of keeping, Tanner amended his estimation of the gentleman. He would be the type to conceal a shiv in his boot. He would be the first to strike when one least expected it. Like a sly snake biting its prey.

  They turned toward the house, Lord Lofton offering to smooth the path leading to Arabella’s father. He, of course, made it sound as if he did her a tremendous favor, even going so far as to suggest an imminent reconciliation. Just as he had expounded on the great lengths he had gone to for Arabella’s brother when he should have answered Tanner’s question plainly and honestly. He was a thespian. An accomplished hypocrite.

  Arabella lapped it up like a thirsty kitten with a bowl of cream.

  Darcy pulled Tanner aside, muttering, "Take care, Tanner. He isn't some brute you can toss out of your tavern. He is a peer."

  "It was him, Darcy."

  Darcy tensed. "You are certain?"

  "I have no doubt."

  "I believe you. But take care what enemies you make. He would be a formidable opponent. Do you think he murdered Mrs. Annesley’s brother?"

  Tanner answered honestly, "I do not know. I am inclined to think he was involved. For a certainty, he knows more than he lets on."

  They turned into the house where the butler led them expressionlessly to Mr. Hardcastle's study.

  Tanner would have preferred to stay outside with the horses, but he was not about to allow Lord Lofton any more time alone with Arabella without being present to overhear his falsehoods. He did not trust the man as she clearly did.

  Chapter 10

  Lofton nodded his head in show of his support. As promised, he had prepared the way for her, speaking with her father before he could cast her off his property.

  Without another word, Lofton departed from the house while the butler led them to the library.

  It was a disappointing beginning. Even Father's study would have been better than the library — the first door to the right off the entrance hall. The room closest to the front door. It was the room Father always chose to meet with callers he did not wish to converse with for very long.

  Mother was there. She had not changed much. She was softer and had more lines around her eyes than Arab
ella remembered her having, but she was lovely. Arabella's heart leapt up into her throat, and she came perilously close to running across the room to embrace her. But Father's protective posture prevented that. He stood behind the chair where Mother sat, holding her hand protectively.

  Father looked rigid and grossly displeased. His salt and pepper hair was now completely silver.

  Arabella stood awkwardly beside Elizabeth, clutching her hands together and trying not to stare at her parents.

  "Mr. Darcy, what a pleasure to receive you into our home. I hope your family is well?" Father said politely.

  "Thank you, Mr. Hardcastle. I believe you were acquainted with my mother?"

  Mother answered. "We went to the same finishing school. She was the picture of elegance and grace. I am told Miss Darcy is the image of her mother. You must be very proud of her."

  Arabella heard the tension in Mother's voice.

  "Thanks in great part to the influence of your daughter," Mr. Darcy said.

  Still, neither Mother nor Father would acknowledge Arabella. It was if she were invisible to them.

  After a few heavy seconds, Mr. Darcy introduced Elizabeth and Mr. Tanner.

  When everyone in the room had been properly presented and the usual pleasantries exchanged without so much as a glance in her direction, Arabella felt like she would scream.

  She could have managed their scorn, but their indifference was insufferable.

  Mr. Tanner grimaced and crossed his arms. He clearly did not approve of the scene either, but Arabella did not dream he would address her father as he did then.