The Immovable Mr. Tanner

by Jennifer Joy

  “Just move your feet to the count of three in your head and follow the other dancers around the floor. Easy. If you stumble, I will catch you. If you freeze, I will spin around you. Come, Tanner. If they want a show, let us give them one.”

  Tanner wanted so badly to kiss her. Would she taste like the cinnamon spice that clung to her? He stifled a groan and redirected his thoughts before he did something stupid like kiss her in front of the entire assembly.

  Arabella stepped forward, her arms in the position he saw amongst the dancers. He knew where his hands were supposed to go.

  Wrapping his fingers around her hand and placing his other hand around her waist, he guided them into the moving mass of swaying dancers without trampling over anyone. So far, so good.

  Of course, his head buzzed like he had helped himself to a bottle of his best brandy. Holding Arabella was better than he had imagined. She fit. Were he to embrace her like he wished to, her head would nestle at the soft spot between his shoulder and his chest. The perfect spot for him to turn his head and kiss her on the top of her forehead.

  “I must leave tonight,” she said abruptly, pulling Tanner out of his dream with a crash.

  “Do not go,” he blurted, adding, “please,” when her eyes flashed at him. They were full of storm clouds tonight.

  “I have no other choice. There is no doubt in my mind that Lord Lofton wrote the page in Ambrose’s pocket. He means to ruin me and anyone who would help me, and I cannot in good conscience allow it. Dear Lord, Georgiana! Where is she?” Arabella twisted around, searching the crowd.

  Tanner was a step ahead of her. “She joined Mrs. Chufton. It is probably the safest place for her to be. Like Mrs. Bennet, she has a way of driving gentlemen away from her company.”

  He felt Arabella relax as her panic subsided. “I am not fit to protect her when I bring threats into her home. I must leave,” she repeated, her eyes pooling and reflecting the flickering lights of the chandelier.

  “Where would you go?” Tanner regretted the question as soon as he asked it. She had nowhere to go; nobody to turn to.

  She stiffened in his arms. “I can afford to rent a room until I can find employment.”

  “Alone? He would find you. Arabella, he means to see you hang for murder. Who would doubt the word of a viscount when he is smart enough to provide witnesses against you?” She would not stand a chance on her own. He, too, was convinced Lord Lofton had penned the page in Ambrose’s pocket.

  Tanner was not willing to see how serious Lord Lofton was in carrying out his threats. He was not the sort of man to be crossed … and Arabella had done exactly that when she had eloped with a soldier instead of marrying him. For a man who prided himself in his sport, he had failed to catch his target with Arabella. That would have been a mighty blow to his pride.

  “I heard him, Tanner. He knows too much about you. What would prevent him from uncovering our young friend’s near-elopement with that rascal in a militia uniform?” she whispered, taking no chances they be overheard. “And anyone who heard of the murders in Meryton could conclude the couple we love were behind them. They will read into it what they wish even when the truth is right in front of their noses. He will ruin all of us because of me.”

  Her eyes sparkled, but she did not give way to tears. Splaying his fingers wider over her waist, wanting to press her closer against him, wanting to offer her all the protection he could provide … and knowing it would not be enough … Tanner turned to what he knew best. Work. Action.

  It was a daunting task sure to fail, but they had to try. “What you say is true, but I doubt we are the only ones to suffer from Lord Lofton’s oppression. How would you live with your conscience knowing he is allowed to bully others to his will when we can silence him? Even if you run away, you would never have peace. Nobody would. We would all have to live with the knowledge he held power over us and the uncertainty of when he would choose to exercise that authority. It is no way to live.”

  Tanner knew that better than anyone else. Had he not lived his entire life in fear of being revealed as the shame he was? All that was left to him now was to stop Lord Lofton before he made Tanner’s past known publicly. He had little enough to lose, but his family…

  “No one will help us. He has too many under his thumb, and they are too scared he will reveal their secrets, they will say nothing against him.”

  The bitterness in her voice gave Tanner pause. Before the ball, she had defended Lord Lofton. Not now. Now, she openly accused him.

  He asked, “Why has your opinion of him changed so suddenly?” Tanner guessed she had been more successful in her inquiries than he and Darcy had been.

  She lifted her chin. “He threatened my friends. To me, that makes him the worst sort of villain. I believe it was he who turned Ambrose against me, whose influence encouraged my brother’s worst characteristics until he purposely isolated me from my family, and at the smallest gesture of kindness toward me, killed him in front of my friends. He is evil in human form, and he must be stopped. But how? He hides behind his title like a shield. His wealth ensures he has the means to manipulate and persecute without sullying his own hands.”

  “I am not afraid of getting my hands dirty.” Tanner even looked forward to it. But would Arabella rise up to the occasion if it meant compromising propriety? “Are you?” he asked.

  “What is a little grime when I stand to lose everything? Do not underestimate me, Tanner.”

  Her chastisement made him smile. They were partners now. All they required was a plan. “You said he collects secrets to use against others? A man such as he would have a few secrets of his own. We need to find his greatest one.”

  “Easier said than done. I cannot hide behind the guise of friendship with him now. Not when I am convinced he killed my brother. I would be a fool to pretend to trust him.”

  “I would never ask it of you.”

  “He would see through me.”

  “You do not need to convince me, Arabella.”

  She blushed, and he realized his blunder. “Please forgive me for taking the liberty of using your Christian name. It does not belong to me to address you so informally.”

  “I like it,” she said quietly. Meeting his gaze fully, she added, “We are … friends … are we not?”

  They stood before each other. The music had stopped, and though the room was crowded, he saw only Bella. The woman who surprised him at every turn. Who chose him over a childhood society friend. Who felt as responsible toward his family as he did. Who had defended him when it complicated her own troubles. Who allowed him to dance the waltz with her before an entire assembly even though she knew the burden of his birth.

  Before he could answer, Georgiana rushed up to them, holding her gown at the waist as if her modesty depended on it. Darcy and Mrs. Elizabeth followed behind her.

  “We must leave immediately. My gown is ruined, and if I lose my grip on the fabric, I will be too,” said Georgiana.

  Chapter 16

  Tanner peeked over the top of his newspaper. What a sight they must be. Darcy, himself, Arabella, Mrs. Elizabeth, and Georgiana each had a section of newspaper which they studied meticulously for any mention of the accusation they awaited against Arabella.

  Darcy’s eyebrows knit together, lending him an air of stern concentration to discourage anyone from interrupting him.

  Mrs. Elizabeth tapped her chin while one finger trailed down the page as she read faster than anyone else at the table.

  Georgiana looked as if she were engrossed in a novel as she leaned over the page splayed out before her on the breakfast table. Then again, her engagement with her reading material might have had more to do with the gossip section set before her than anything else.

  Arabella’s eyes were rimmed in dark circles. She blinked often at the page before her, making slow progress. Tanner could only imagine how anxious she must be. He had seen fit to implore her not to flee from Darcy House again before retiring for the evening. He had gone
so far as to suggest a footman sit outside her door should she attempt to escape.

  Georgiana gasped, rustling the paper as she jabbed at it with her finger excitedly. “It is here!” she said.

  Arabella inhaled deeply, and Tanner watched her attempt to calm herself.

  “Oh, not about you, Arabella. Please forgive me for causing you alarm. It is just so unexpected, I spoke before my mind could temper my tongue.” Georgiana jabbed at the column again and looked at Tanner while she visibly pondered how to tell them what the page contained.

  “Now she is prudent,” sighed Tanner, her contemplative silence setting him on edge the longer she looked at him.

  Why did she look at him? What was so difficult for her to say, she could not simply say it? The pressure in the room made it difficult for Tanner to breathe until he thought he would snap at his little sister.

  Darcy was not so delicate. He snapped, "Georgie, what is it?"

  "It is a challenge. For Tanner."

  The room fell silent until she added, "Perhaps it is best if I read it aloud."

  “Please!” they exclaimed in unison.

  The diversions continue from Lady Templeton's ball. Not only did she successfully initiate the use of the waltz for the pleasure of her guests during the season, but she can be credited with the initiation of a newcomer to London society, one Mr. Jonathan Tanner.

  While little is known about the gentleman's antecedents other than a vague attachment to the respected Darcy family, he has agreed on his honor and that of his family to engage in a match of skill against Lord Lofton, renowned sportsman and worthy opponent.

  It would please his lordship greatly for his supporters to witness a competition of strength and agility certain to best all previous pugilist matches in English history.

  "The details are below. He has named the date of the match for one week from today at Fives Court in St. Martin’s Street," said Georgiana, handing the notice to Tanner.

  He read it again, swallowing down the bitter taste the unwarranted challenge brought up in his throat.

  Arabella leaned over to read it. "He is vain indeed if he thinks he can best you."

  While Tanner appreciated her unwavering confidence in his ability to beat Lord Lofton in a bare-knuckle fight, he had no intention of engaging in his lordship's games. Tanner knew his type too well. If he allowed him to call too many of the shots, he would lose the battle before it had even begun.

  "I will not fight him. It would prove nothing," he said.

  Darcy sighed and leaned back in his chair. "He called into question your attachment to me as well as your honor. He has guaranteed you will be the one to look bad should you refuse."

  "I will lose no matter what I do. His challenge makes clear that he does not expect to lose against me, and I have no reason to believe I can best him. He claims to be a great sportsman, a Corinthian. He knows the rules and has, no doubt, trained sufficiently with professionals to feel confident in his skills. I only know how to throw riffraff out of my tavern when I must, and the only rules in doing that are whatever gets the scum out of my door. I will only do it if he agrees to leave you — all of you — in peace."

  “But he is untrustworthy. Even if he gave his word, we would not be free of his threats,” Arabella said. “There must be a way.” She pounded the table with her fist, the firm determination in her aspect strengthening Tanner’s resolve to find a way to gain the upper hand over Lord Lofton somehow.

  As Arabella said, there had to be a way.

  Arabella felt like a plague on the Darcys. She hated it. And yet, they insisted she was like family to them; that they would not turn their backs on her when she needed their help the most. They deliberately turned a blind eye to the fact she was the source of their troubles.

  She understood Tanner now. He felt the same and, just as she did, he wished to spare them by keeping his distance. She would have run away by now if not for him. He had made her promise to stay — and had wisely posted a footman outside her door to ensure she kept her word.

  If only he could see how close their situations were, maybe he would allow his family to claim him as such. Surely, the consequences of the impropriety of Mr. Darcy’s father were nothing compared to what her own brother had brought on them! Oh, if Ambrose were still alive, she would strangle him!

  The butler came in with an envelope on a tray. “This came by messenger, sir. It is addressed to Miss Darcy.”

  So full of vengeful thoughts was Arabella, her first assumption was that Lofton meant to threaten Georgiana too and had sent a message meant to break her.

  Arabella did not breathe until Georgiana unfolded the page and a faint sigh of relief escaped her lips.

  “It is a note from a dress shop. The lady who stepped on my skirt and ruined my gown has arranged for her dressmaker to mend the damage.” Georgiana handed the note to Mr. Darcy, who read it in one glance.

  It was kind (although, perhaps, a bit presumptuous) of the lady to make such arrangements. But the timing of its arrival made Arabella suspicious.

  Mr. Darcy asked, “Would you not prefer for your dressmaker to mend the tear?”

  “And deny the lady the opportunity to effect a kind deed? We have no reason to believe she has anything to do with Lord Lofton, and I refuse to allow that man to control how I spend my day,” Georgiana said.

  Arabella could not help but smile at Georgiana’s boldness, but she also could not shake her suspicions.

  “I would go with you, Georgiana, but I have not felt well all morning,” said Elizabeth, the warm glow in her cheeks belying her contentment.

  All eyes turned to her. Could it be? Arabella prayed it be so.

  Mr. Darcy’s forehead furrowed in concern while he struggled to contain a grin. “Shall I send for the doctor?”

  She smiled demurely. “It is too soon yet.”

  “Tell me what I must do to make you more comfortable,” he pleaded.

  Elizabeth laughed. “It is only a little illness. I am not certain it means anything more than that.”

  Mr. Darcy turned to Tanner. “I cannot leave Elizabeth in her delicate condition. Will you go with Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley to the dressmaker’s shop?”

  Tanner nodded. “What time is the appointment?” he asked.

  Chapter 17

  Three hours later, Arabella sat beside Georgiana and across from Tanner in the carriage on the way to the dressmaker.

  Arabella felt uneasy. “Please tell us again what happened to your dress last night? Perhaps I am being overly suspicious, but I have a bad feeling about this. Why would this lady presume to make an appointment for you when you could have come at your leisure?”

  “After spending a few minutes in conversation with Mrs. Chufton, I joined a group of ladies from my finishing school. I inquired about the more eligible gentlemen present, so naturally, the conversation turned to Lord Lofton.” Georgiana sighed, sinking into the squab. “I did not overhear anything useful. Only an estimation of his fortune and a detailed description of a house one of the ladies had toured during a stay in Bath. He is also famed to have a villa in Italy and another in Austria. All they care about is his wealth. They said nothing of his character or habits. Certainly nothing helpful.” Georgiana crossed her arms in frustration just as Tanner did opposite her.

  “The lady who ruined your dress? Where was she?” he asked.

  “She was behind me, but I did not see her until the incident. Whether she was listening to our conversation or merely intended to refill her glass of punch, I cannot say. But when I had heard quite enough useless discussion, I turned to leave and stopped just as suddenly when I felt my dress tug and heard it tear. The lady was horrified to say the least and apologized profusely. I was so agitated, I covered myself as best as I could and departed immediately in search of you.”

  Tanner said what Arabella thought aloud. “It could have been contrived. What if she is a friend of Lord Lofton, and this is her attempt to isolate you?”

  Georgia
na pursed her lips in thought. “I lost sleep considering that possibility, but her reaction seemed so genuine I was not surprised at her offer to have my gown mended at her expense. If she contrived this meeting, then I think we ought to hear what she has to say. She may be a friend. Or it may have nothing at all to do with any of our worries. She might just be a concerned lady wishing to right the wrong done to my gown.”

  Arabella caught Tanner’s eye. He believed in coincidences as much as she did, and it made her feel better that he was as alert as she was.

  A woman with a measuring tape around her neck greeted them before the bell above the door had stilled. With a curtsy and an elegant bow of her head, she said, “You are Miss Darcy, yes? I am Mademoiselle Laurent, the proprietor of this establishment. I thank you so much for coming today. Is this the dress?”

  Arabella detested her immediate turn of thought on hearing the seamstress’ French accent. Had they walked into a den of spies? Was Lofton a spy? He certainly had a talent for collecting secrets. Was this a trap?

  Reluctantly, Arabella nodded to the footman to hand Mademoiselle Laurent the package containing Georgiana’s gown.

  “Ah, yes, I thank you. I will see to this immediately. Please allow me to show you to a room where you can be comfortable.”

  She spun on her heels and they followed her down a hall to a room with a thick curtain separating it from the hallway. Pulling the curtain aside, she said, “Please be so kind as to wait here for just a little moment. I will return shortly with your gown.”

  Georgiana stepped inside, and Arabella nearly rammed into her back when she stopped abruptly.

  Arabella tensed, as did Tanner, until Georgiana raised her hand to her chest and said, “You startled me. I had not expected to see you here.”

  There was a woman standing in front of a large table covered in dress designs and swatches of fabric. She had raven hair, wide set eyes as dark as coffee, and a seductive divot in her chin. Her chiffon dress clung to her figure in a fabric that would be transparent in the sunlight.