The Immovable Mr. Tanner

by Jennifer Joy

  Darcy pulled out the list of names they had taken from Lofton's journal. "There are more names here. Let us go to them first."

  Tanner stared at his brother with his firmly set chin. He would not be persuaded. "You are stubborn."

  Darcy's retort was sharp but marked with a hint of humor. "Then I am in good company."

  Tanner would have spared them the time and trouble, but Darcy was determined. However, even Darcy had to admit defeat when every house turned them away.

  Darcy was as wound up as Miss Lydia’s excitable spaniel. Something beyond the snubs they had endured all day ate at him, and Tanner did not wish to return to Darcy House with him in that state.

  "Care to join me at Gentleman Jackson's? That is, if he will allow us inside his saloon." Tanner should not have added that final remark, but bitterness won over sense and Tanner acknowledged that it was not only Darcy who needed vigorous exercise to appease his frustrations.

  Bond Street was not far, and what Tanner had meant as a sarcastic remark made his steps a little more hesitant than they had ever been before when they arrived at the boxing rooms.

  As usual, the saloon was full, and a quiet fell over the gentlemen gathered there when he walked in with Darcy.

  "Here we go again," Tanner mumbled.

  "Do not be ridiculous. Here comes Jackson himself," Darcy said, already smiling in greeting to the proprietor.

  Jackson walked between them, putting his arms around their shoulders and pulling them deeper into the room. "I defy any man who would look upon you with disdain. A gentleman is as a gentleman does, and you, sir, are a gentleman," he said in a voice that carried through the rooms, breaking the silence and giving way to the normal chatter and smacks expected in such a place.

  He looked around satisfactorily. "There. Most of my students are younger gentry open to newer ways of thinking. Besides, Mr. Tanner, I was born into a family of builders, and yet, society calls me 'Gentleman.' Do not give in to them. You are bigger than they are."

  Tanner scoffed. "I am bigger than most people."

  Darcy did not crack a smile. Instead, he glared at anyone who dared meet his eyes around the room.

  "I meant in character, of course," Jackson said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Slapping his hands together, he said, "Very well. What shall we do today? From the looks of your brother, he would make you a worthy sparring partner." Jackson pulled out two sets of gloves and set their coats on a bench near a ring he cleared for their use.

  Darcy paced and flexed his limbs.

  No sooner had Tanner turned to him with his hands up, signaling that he was ready, than Darcy lit into him with the passion of a man with nothing to lose.

  Darcy's fists were fast and packed a powerful punch that left stings all over Tanner's torso and arms. They were going to be sore on the morrow. Tanner lost track of time, but he would not stop until Darcy was ready.

  Desperation lent Darcy abnormal strength and energy, and Tanner struggled to keep up without inflicting an injury for which Mrs. Elizabeth would scold him until finally, mercifully, Darcy lowered his fists.

  What a sight they must have been. Drenched in sweat, their breeches sticking to them as if they had stepped into a river, they panted, red-faced and bruised.

  Shoving their coats to the side, Tanner sat on the bench with his head between his knees. After a few deep breaths, he trusted his lungs not to burst enough to sit up.

  He and Darcy sat beside each other, too body-weary to care what happened around them.

  "I love her so much, Tanner," Darcy said.

  Tanner turned to face him, not knowing what to say.

  Darcy continued, "I have tried to show her, to tell her, that the honor of having her in my life is enough. That she is enough. But she cries at night, and I am powerless to stop it. I have never felt so helpless before."

  The irony of Darcy's situation struck Tanner. Gentlemen who did not wish for their indiscretions to be made known through their illegitimate children were, more often than not, cursed with a smattering of unwanted children. On the other hand, it was not uncommon to hear of honorable gentlemen who were deprived of offspring for no apparent reason. There was nothing just about it. And there was nothing Tanner could do to change things for his brother.

  "If you asked her, I bet she would say you are enough too, Darcy. You will find a way to comfort each other and be happy together. You are too stubborn to give up or lose hope."

  Darcy lifted his finger. "Tenacious. It sounds more agreeable."

  Relieved to see his brother's humor restored, Tanner fell into silence.

  "Thank you. I needed this," Darcy said, donning his shirt.

  "You needed to beat the stuffing out of me? Some brother," Tanner pretended to grumble.

  "Come, let us return home. I need to see Elizabeth."

  “You need to bathe,” Tanner countered.

  Darcy strode across the saloon, a man on a mission to comfort his wife.

  It was as it ought to be, and Tanner's chest swelled with pride because of his family. They were the sort of people Tanner would wish to be related to if offered the choice … and he was.

  Tanner did not know how it was possible, but Lawrence already had water heating in the kitchen when they returned to Darcy House. By the time Tanner struggled out of his boots and coats, his bath was ready.

  As he sank into the steaming water, he wondered at the contrasts between society and individuals. Society saw him as a black mark whereas there were individuals — men like Darcy — whose opinions of a man were formed, not by his birth or his connections, but on his virtues and merits.

  Men like Gentlemen Jackson were given a place in society not because they belonged there, but because they earned the respect of the men who were raised to look down upon him.

  Perhaps, in time, Tanner would earn his place too. He imagined greeting Darcy and Georgiana with embraces when they stopped by his inn. Bella would cry in joy when she saw Georgiana again, and she would make them one of her fancy desserts while they talked without the fear of anyone overhearing their conversation.

  Once Arabella entered his thoughts, it was a simple matter to continue dwelling on her. He could not imagine how awful it must be for her to know her family did not want her. She had been loved and cherished in her family. And she would be again, Tanner determined.

  He would break down the entrance door if he had to, but he would make her father see reason. He could do no less for her. He loved her too much.

  Scrubbing and soaking, Tanner dressed in his normal attire. The rough linen of his shirt and the length of his trousers felt right against his skin.

  He set out to look for Arabella. He did not know what to say when he found her, but he needed to see her.

  Music fluttered down the corridor, turning Tanner toward the music room. If Georgiana was playing, Arabella would be nearby.

  His steps slowed as he drew nearer. It was a melancholy tune — not the kind of music Georgiana preferred.

  He opened the door gently and saw Bella.

  Chapter 25

  Arabella’s fingers stumbled over the ivory keys when the squeaking hinge of the music room door pulled her out of her reverie.

  "I am sorry. I had thought to find Georgiana playing," said Tanner, clasping his hands in front of him.

  "Please stay." Her face flushed at her impropriety. She was alone, and she had invited Tanner to stay with her when she ought to have let him leave. But standing there, larger than life in the cramped doorway, he looked as if his afternoon had been harder than hers.

  "Difficult day?" she asked.

  He stepped forward, leaving the door open. At least that.

  "It was awful. My brother has never had to endure so many refusals in his lifetime. I suspect Georgiana will not be receiving any more invitations or callers for the remainder of the season." With a sigh, he sat on the bench beside her.

  "You feel you are to blame?" she asked, trying to focus on the conversation instea
d of his nearness to her.

  He ignored her question, asking instead, "How is Mrs. Elizabeth?"

  "She mourns the lack of children in her household." Arabella paused, overwhelmed by the guilt her own thoughts brought upon her. "And I thank God every day that I have no children. Is that not wicked of me?"

  She had struggled with her conflicting emotions the whole afternoon, and the exertion had left her exhausted. It was what had led her to the music room for a few minutes of time alone. What would Tanner think of her brazen comment?

  "Too many babes are born unwanted into this world. It is not their fault, nor should you feel guilty for not wanting children."

  He misunderstood her. She would love to hold her baby in her arms. Just not Nicholas' baby. "It is not that I do not want children. Just … not like that. With no family. Without a father they could look up to."

  "You were fortunate then," he said, his eyes drooping in the corners and his eyebrows pulling together like a hurt puppy. Or an unwanted child without family or father.

  “Dear Lord, that was not what I meant at all!” she exclaimed. Could she have more effectively rubbed salt into his wound?

  Tanner chuckled. “I had a wonder of a mother. She made up for it as best she could. She married a good man who gave her four more boys besides me.”

  "Do you not want children of your own?"

  "I am too busy running my inn to have a family," he answered gruffly.

  Knowing she must tread cautiously, she commented, "You treat your inn with the care a father would give a small child. Mrs. Molly looks at you with the adoration of a proud mother. I can see why you love it. It is like a family in itself."

  Tanner's posture relaxed, as did Arabella's. She had said the right thing.

  After a few moments of thought, Tanner nodded. "I had not thought of my inn like that, but I think I agree with you. My inn is the one place I truly belong — where I have a say that matters."

  He shifted his weight, the tension returning to his shoulders. While his posture gave away his discomfort, Arabella was grateful for the insight his comment offered. He sounded as lonely and insignificant as she sometimes felt. While she loved being Georgiana's companion, Arabella could not remain in the Darcy household forever. It had been a safe hiding place for a time, but she could not hide for the rest of her life.

  Wanting to ease his embarrassment, Arabella asked, "Even with all the travelers and strangers with whom you must do business? I would think a man such as yourself, who does not easily befriend others, would find that tiresome."

  He chuckled. "You understand my character well. It is difficult to explain."

  "Please try."

  He pondered for a moment, weighing his words. "I love offering something permanent and stable during the uncertainties of a traveler's journey. I like to watch how they relax by my fire with a tankard of my good ale and a plate of Cook's beef stew in front of them. When the weather is poor, the villagers know my inn is warm and safe."

  She ought to have known. Tanner protected people. He took care of perfect strangers just like he had cared for his mother when he was a boy. "I would love to know your mother. What is she like?" she asked softly, her curiosity winning over her caution.

  Arabella was rewarded with a smile. Tanner's entire countenance softened just as it did when Georgiana was in the room. "You would love her as much as I do. She was born a beauty, and in my mind she is still one of the most beautiful women I have ever known. She is like you, Bella."

  The way Tanner looked at her made her feel young and desirable again. Feeling a blush creep up into her cheeks, she asked, "Was she as impulsive as me?"

  "Enough so to fall in love with the master of Pemberley and to act on the pulls of her heart."

  There, she had done it again. More salt in the wounds of his painful past. "I am sorry. It was thoughtless of me to ask."

  "I want to tell you."

  Arabella met his eyes, and she sensed his trust.

  Tanner said, "She never spoke much about what happened when she found out she was with child or how she was asked to leave Pemberley in her delicate state, but I know that Mrs. Reynolds took pity on her. She helped her find a respectable job at a tavern. But her beauty was more of a curse than a blessing. As was I. Once certain gentlemen found out she had a son, they assumed the worst of her. Because of me, she had to be wary. Because of me she lost her employment."

  "You were only a child."

  "I attacked a gentleman who pulled her onto his lap, laying his grubby hands all over her. He actually thought she enjoyed his attentions when she struggled to free herself from his grasp."

  Arabella gasped. "What a terrible thing for a boy to witness. What did you do?"

  "I made him let go of her." He bowed his head as if what he had done was shameful.

  "You protected her. You did what you ought to have done. What a real gentleman would have done had one been present."

  Tanner scoffed. "We slept in a barn that night, having nowhere else to go. My anger left us without a roof over our heads and no means to buy bread. If it were not for Mr. Tanner's brother, the groom who let us sleep in his stables that night, I hate to think what might have become of us."

  "Then you were not completely hopeless," she said, trying to find something uplifting to say and hearing the words fall flat in her own ears. There was nothing uplifting about despair and ruin.

  Tanner crossed his arms as if to challenge her statement … as well he should. "It was that night I learned the truth about my father."

  "You did not know you were Mr. Darcy's son?" Once again, she bit her tongue. Everything she said only dragged their conversation deeper into the depths of the past and nothing good ever came from that.

  The bitterness in Tanner's tone was unmistakable. "I thought my father was a war hero who died bravely on the battlefield. Sometimes I wish it were true. There is more honor in that. My real father was allowed to continue on as if nothing had happened. He married a lady with a fortune and a title while my mother was cast aside like rubbish and he was admired as a gentleman."

  Anger rose within Arabella, loosening her tongue. "The true nature of a man is proved by his works, not because he is born into it. A gentleman is as a gentleman does." She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to contain the strength of her passion, and she had to wonder if Tanner crossed his arms to prevent himself from strangling all the fools in the world. It was a powerful posture. She decided to use it more often.

  Tenderness returned to Tanner’s voice. "Which is why I admire my brother and sister. Despite their upbringing, they are honorable. They do credit to their roles in society. But neither they nor I can make their peers change no matter how badly we wish for it."

  How many times had she wished Ambrose would change … only to learn the only change necessary had been her view of him? "Sometimes people are not what they seem. Sometimes they prove us wrong," Arabella said under her breath.

  "You are more optimistic than I am."

  "I was wrong about Ambrose. I got a letter today from Mrs. Seymour."

  Tanner's eyes grew in alarm. "Was there an address?"

  "No. There was nothing in the letter to identify it was from her. I only recognized the smell of her perfume on the page. What she sent to me was a letter Ambrose had penned to her."

  Ambrose had loved Honoria. He had trusted her. And Lofton had prevented them from ever finding happiness together.

  Would he kill Tanner? Would he be content when she was charged with Nicholas' murder? What of her family? What of the Darcys? Would Lofton's revenge against her only add coals to his burning resentment?

  With Ambrose gone, she would never know to what extent he had protected them from Lofton. She had pondered that realization all day and it still sent chills down her spine.

  It helped Arabella see the need for allies. She could not fight this battle alone.

  Pulling Ambrose's letter out of her bodice, she read it to Tanner.

  It w
as important to her that he think better of her brother. At a couple of spots, the reading became blurry, but she made it. It should not have been so difficult, but it was. She had hardly known Ambrose, and yet, she missed him. She missed the man who wrote Honoria the letter. He would have made a wonderful brother.

  "Do your mother and father know?" Tanner asked.

  Arabella groaned. "I do not see how they could. While my inclination is to run to my father and explain everything — give him Ambrose's letter if he will agree to see me — I hesitate. Ambrose kept us apart for a reason, and I do not wish to do anything to endanger them.”

  “Perhaps a change of strategy is required. More is accomplished with open communication than with secrecy,” Tanner said.

  “What if he refuses to listen to me? What if he turns me away again? A lady can only take so much rejection.” Her argument sounded weak even to her.

  “It is disheartening,” Tanner said with a low chuckle. “I had more than my fair share today.”

  She grimaced. She had meant to distract him from his day, not remind him of it. At least, he had the grace to cover over her blunder with a smile. It was better than her weak complaints of her problems.

  Tanner nudged her with his elbow. "We are not the sort to bow before our sorrows for long. We choose our battle and we fight."

  "Together," she blurted out, not feeling strong enough on her own, though she knew in her heart she would fight to the death to keep her friends and family safe just as Ambrose had done.

  “Together,” Tanner repeated. “We will end this.”

  “Just like you do at your tavern?” she asked.

  He looked at her questioningly.

  She blushed. “When we were in Meryton last year, I was told that while you never throw the first punch or lash out in anger, you always end the brawls that break out in your tavern. When you say you will end this, I believe you. And I want to help you.”