A True Gentleman (Regency Love Book 2) Read online

  Phillip stepped towards his father, but Tabby held him back and went in search of a servant. No more than three months ago, it would have taken less than a minute for Tabby to stumble across some maid or footman, but now the hallways were empty. She was nearly at the kitchen before she found a maid sitting in a corner.

  “Louisa,” said Tabby, and the maid got to her feet with a mild curtsey. “Would you please look after Phillip for a few minutes while I speak with Mr. Russell?”

  “I’m no good with children, ma’am,” said Louisa, looking at Phillip. “Isn’t there someone else who could watch him?”

  “None that I have found,” replied Tabby. “Please. It shall only be a few minutes, and I would rather Phillip not be there. Without his nanny around, I fear he will get into mischief.”

  Tabby spared herself a moment of self-pity. She had been reduced to begging for help from a maid. In other circumstances, Tabby would have simply ordered it, but as none of the staff’s salaries had been paid for quite some time, she knew she was in no position to demand anything. She would not risk alienating one of the only servants who remained at Kelland. Likely, the girl still held out hope that she would receive her back pay, and it pained Tabby to know that it would not be forthcoming. Not in the near future, at any rate.

  “I promise to fetch him in a trice,” said Tabby.

  Louisa stared at Phillip with a frown, but she gave a sour nod to her mistress and took Phillip by the hand to lead him to the nursery. He glanced at his mother, and Tabby gave him a smile while straightening her spine for the impending scene, and there was no questioning that the impending conversation would lead to a scene.

  Marching back to the study, she found her husband in the exact same position.

  “I asked you to watch Phillip,” said Tabby, walking to the desk.

  “Demanded, more like it,” mumbled Joshua, pushing upright. He rubbed at his face, scratching the stubble on his jaw and mussing his shaggy hair.

  “He is your son, and I need help,” she said. “There is so much packing to be done, and without Nanny Gilbert around to watch Phillip, I am finding it difficult to get much done with him underfoot, and I need you to watch him.”

  Joshua stretched and then settled into his chair to stare at his wife. His eyes were red and droopy, the lines at his eyes and mouth far deeper and craggier than a man his age should have. In the eleven years of their marriage, it was as though Joshua had aged twice that. If Tabby were honest with herself, she felt much the same, even if it did not show.

  “I have enough to deal with,” said Joshua. “I don’t need to be doing a woman’s job.”

  “You found a renter?” It was too much to hope for. Kelland Hall was not at the peak of repair and finding someone willing to take on the crumbling estate seemed an impossible feat.

  “I am taking care of things,” he said, reaching for the cognac bottle.

  Tabby snatched it. “Drinking will not help the situation.”

  “It is the only thing that makes the ‘situation’ bearable,” he said, giving her a gimlet eye.

  “It is burying your head in the sand, Joshua!” Tabby stepped around his desk to throw open the curtains and point at the men gathered near the entrance to their home. “The creditors are quite literally on our doorstep. If it weren’t for your connections, we would already be forced to flee the country, though I have no idea how we would pay for the trip.”

  Joshua’s fist came down on the desk. “I am taking care of it!”

  Tabby took a breath and came around to stand before him. With another deep lungful, she sat on the chair facing him. They needed to discuss this like rational beings. “Joshua, please, I need to know what is happening.”

  Joshua glanced at the bottle in Tabby’s hand. “I found a buyer.”

  She placed the bottle on the floor beside her, giving herself a moment to think as Joshua’s eyes tracked her movements.

  “A buyer?” she asked.

  “No one is interested in renting. Apparently, the Russell family holding isn’t worth what it should be.” Joshua gave a self-pitying chuckle and crossed his arms. “The house needs too many repairs we cannot pay for, but the land is still worth something. I am selling the property in its entirety to Mr. Brexton.”

  Tabby held her composure, but it was a struggle. Their neighbors had coveted the Russell land for a long time, but she never thought Joshua would agree to sell. Casting a glance at the room around her, Tabby imagined the sad and lonely future for the home. The Brextons only wanted access to finer hunting, and she doubted they would care much about maintaining the building.

  Her home. It held many bitter memories, but there were sweet ones, too. Those first years of marriage had been everything her young heart had dreamt of, and for a brief moment, Tabby revelled in the thoughts of those sunny days.

  “Selling?” she whispered. It was one thing to accept a temporary displacement, but another to realize their home would be gone forever. And then another stark realization struck her. “But that means we shall lose our income.”

  Joshua snorted. “What income? Our tenants have all but fled us, and the estate’s profits have dwindled to nothing. The house is the only thing of value we have, and selling it will barely cover our debts.”

  Tabby let out the breath she had been holding. “I suppose that is something of a blessing. With the debts gone and a little economy, we can live off the interest from my dowry.”

  Joshua’s eyes fell to his desk for a moment before he reached into a drawer and retrieved another bottle. There was nothing more than a single swallow left in it, but he downed it and dropped it to the floor, where it hit the rug with a muted thud.

  “There is no money left from your dowry,” said Joshua, resting his head against the chair. Closing his eyes, he looked like he was ready to fall asleep, but Tabby was having none of it.

  “No money left?” Tabby could not believe it. With no living siblings, her parents had been very generous with her dowry. There was no possible way that it and all of the Russell fortune could be gone in little more than a decade.

  “Not a cent,” mumbled Joshua. “My luck has been sour for the last few years, but it should turn soon.”

  “Luck?” Tabby’s eyes widened, her breathing coming in fast bursts. “Are you saying you lost it all gambling?”

  “Not all of it.”

  But Tabby heard the insinuation. Not all. But most. Tabby’s heart sent out a silent prayer, pleading for it to be untrue. That he had lost vast amounts of their fortune was no secret, but this was far more than anything Tabby had anticipated. This was not retrenching. This was poverty.

  “How much do we have left?” she asked, terrified to hear the truth.

  “Enough.”

  “How much?”

  “Enough,” he said, opening his eyes and raising his head to give her a hard look. “I am certain one of our friends will put us up for a while. Or perhaps Cousin George will assist us.”

  Tabby’s heart broke at the thought of having to beg their friends and relations for scraps. It was humiliating, but for Phillip’s sake, she would do what she had to until they could get themselves established someplace new.

  “And then what?” she asked.

  Joshua’s brow furrowed, but when he said nothing more, Tabby clarified. “That is no long-term solution, Joshua. We may find respite through charity, but we have no income and no property. How are we to live?”

  He shrugged. “There is nothing more to do. You are fretting and worrying too much. It will work out. Things will be fine.”

  “We need income,” Tabby insisted.

  “Are you suggesting I work?” he asked. His lips quirked and he looked ready to laugh, but it died when Tabby replied, “Yes.”

  “That is ludicrous,” he said with a snort.

  “Ludicrous is living without an income. We need money,” she said.

  “We will make due.”

  “Not without an income!” Tabby got to her feet.
“Even if we can receive housing and food from others, will they pay for Phillip’s clothing? His schooling? There is no other money coming to us. No long-awaited inheritances. Are we to live the rest of our lives off the charity of others? And what of our son’s future?”

  “And your solution is for me to become a common laborer?” he scoffed. “I am a gentleman.”

  “Not a laborer, but something. With our connections, I am certain we could find you a good profession.”

  Joshua looked at her as though she were speaking in tongues. Tabby was no fool and had known that he would not be keen on pursuing a trade, but she could not understand his blindness to their circumstances. They needed income and had no other option.

  “Please, Joshua,” she said, dropping to her chair once more. At this point in her life, it seemed as though she should be familiar with debasing herself, but begging hurt her pride every time.

  Joshua’s gaze darkened. “After all I have sacrificed for you, you would ask me to surrender the very core of who I am?”

  Tabby needed no clarification. In the last few years, playing the martyr had become one of Joshua’s favored pastimes. “And you are the only one who has sacrificed for this marriage? You poor soul for bearing the entirety of that hardship on your shoulders,” she said with cold mockery.

  Joshua slammed his fist against the table again, but Tabby would not be quiet.

  “You made your choice, Joshua. As did I,” she said. “I think it is time that you stop blaming me for your decisions.”

  “Get out!” he yelled, plucking the empty bottle from the floor and flinging it across the room.

  Tabby did not flinch. It was nothing more than a tantrum, and Tabby would not be made to cower by a man acting more childish than his son, but neither would she listen to his pathetic self-pitying tirade. Getting to her feet, Tabby held Joshua’s gaze for several quiet moments, making it clear that his outburst had no effect. Only then did she leave the study, closing the door behind her.

  Walking through the empty halls, Tabby’s tears finally broke through her defenses as she thought about her lost home. Life at Kelland Hall had been far from perfect, but it had been hers. Disappointing though it may be, she had built a life here, and it was painful to say goodbye to it forever. And then there was the terrifying future. The unknown and dark prospects loomed before her, bringing a wave of panic. She had no idea how to fix it all, but it was abundantly clear that it would be her responsibility.

  The man she had married was gone. Memories of what Joshua had been haunted her. Perhaps it would be easier to bear the present if not for the fact that Tabby had been given a glimpse of the man he could be. The good, loving, considerate man she had married. Joshua had the capacity to be so much more than a drunken lout and was simply choosing to reject that goodness.

  Tabby paused for a moment and closed her eyes against the wave of disappointment. Another tear slipped down her cheek, and she brushed it away. Memories of begging her father for his blessing came to mind, and some small, shameful part of her was grateful her parents had not witnessed papa’s predictions come to fruition. Tabby supposed they might be watching over her from beyond the grave, but she hoped they weren’t. Better that they be preoccupied with their eternal paradise than their poor daughter; she was beyond their assistance now.

  “Mama!”

  Tabby had a moment to brace herself before Phillip threw himself at her. She revelled in the little arms and legs clutching her neck and waist. The love. The comfort of it. It was exactly what her poor soul needed at that moment. Regardless of what Joshua was, he had given her the most wonderful son a mother could ask for. That was something.

  And with that thought, Tabby summoned other bits of happiness. Memories of the good that had come despite her foolhardy decision to ignore her father’s advice. Perhaps if she gathered enough of them, she might outweigh her regrets.

  Chapter 1

  Bristow, Essex

  One year later

  Infernal racket. Captain Graham Ashbrook buried his head farther into the pillow, desperate to block out the sounds of maids puttering around him. His body throbbed as though he were still lying on the surgeon’s table. Graham wanted nothing more than a bit of peace, but the noises pricked and poked at his consciousness.

  The curtains flew open and light bored into his eyes. By the stars in heaven, he was going to draw blood!

  “Get out!”

  “Begging your pardon, sir,” came the quivering response, “but Mrs. Kingsley specifically ordered your chamber to be cleaned today.”

  “Surely she did not mean at the crack of dawn,” he said through clenched teeth. His head throbbed and he wanted nothing more than to be left alone. Quiet. Dark. Rest. That was what he needed, and he could not seem to go more than a few minutes without someone bothering him. A string of words came to his mind that would have Mina boxing his ears if she heard them aloud.

  “But, sir…” The maid’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “It’s close to suppertime.”

  Graham fully opened his eyes and looked at the window. That could not be right. He lifted his head to see the clock on the mantle, but a stab of pain pulled at his muscles, and Graham dropped onto the pillow. His dratted body would not stop plaguing him. If he could get a single moment of peace, perhaps his mind would clear enough to think.

  He grumbled something that no polite gentleman should say and shifted to get his left elbow under him.

  “Send in James,” he mumbled.

  The maid trembled as she gave him a quick curtsey and ran from the room. Lily-livered coward. Graham was tired of querulous maids treating him as though he were a bear ready to devour them. He had simply given her an order, and she acted as though he had threatened her with his cutlass. He could only imagine what she would do if he greeted her in full naval regalia, sword in hand, bellowing orders as he had on the deck of his ship. A huff of laughter sent more shivers of pain through him.

  Easing upright, Graham flexed his right arm. Months of effort and a fleet of surgeons had seen the last of the splinters removed from his injuries, but his limbs seemed hardly the better for it. Flexing and moving carefully, he swung his legs out from under the covers, even though he wished nothing more than to crawl back under them and sleep until everything was the way it should be. If it were not for Mina, Graham would’ve done just that, but his stubbornness might force his sister to drag him kicking and screaming out of bed.

  How his men would laugh if they knew the truth. The brave Captain Ashbrook terrified of his sister. But then, they had never met her on the field of battle. For all her timidity, Mina could be a formidable opponent when motivated and had grown even more so in the past few years.

  Easing forward, Graham put weight on his leg. Prudence told him to wait until James could help him to his feet, but Graham was not one for timidity. It had its place but not at this moment. He kept most of the weight on his left, but his right still screamed at him. Reaching for his cane, it helped some, but there was a persistent throb in his thigh.

  Graham’s grip on his cane tightened, and his temper rose. Curses upon the heads of physicians, surgeons, apothecaries, and all the lot of the cussed boat-lickers. His dashed body was no more healed than when the Navy had cast him ashore to rest and recuperate last year. The devil take them all.

  Hobbling forward, he made it across the room before the footman arrived to help him dress, as though he were a child or some fop who spent hours at his looking glass. Yet another blow to his pride. With each movement, his muscles limbered up, and by the time he was in his proper uniform, he was stable enough to walk the hallway himself, though not without relying heavily on his cane. The tip hit the wood floor, and Graham fought to keep his right leg from dragging—but there it was. Crack, drag. Crack, drag. The sound of the invalid echoed through the corridor, announcing to everyone that the crippled Captain Ashbrook was coming. Sound the alarm.

  Much of his strength was spent in the trip, but the pain in
his leg and arm had dulled enough that they were more of a background noise rather than a blaring trumpet. So, perhaps it had been worth it. His healthy limbs certainly appreciated the exercise. Even if it took so long that by the time he arrived in the parlor, Mina and Simon had already gone in to dinner.

  A footman opened the door for him, and Graham found his sister and her husband sitting together at the far end of the table. Abandoning their first course, the pair rose from their chairs, and Mina rushed to his side.

  “You are up,” she said with a smile. “We assumed you were taking your dinner in bed today.”

  Graham allowed her to herd him towards his seat, which was directly beside her own.

  “It was a near thing,” said Graham, “but I thought if I hid for too long you toss me from bed.”

  Mina’s eyebrows drew together. “Of course not. It has hardly been a fortnight since your last operation. You need your rest. Are you certain you should be up? I could send a tray to your room.”

  When they reached his chair, Mina pulled it out for him, and Graham’s face burned red. He wanted to refuse, but with his temper not quite the thing at the moment, he dared not speak. But then she also placed the napkin across his lap and rearranged the dishes until they were nearly in his lap, as though he could not lean forward the scant distance. Perhaps not well with his right hand, but his left worked perfectly well.

  Graham sent a pleading look to Simon, who clearly shared and understood Graham’s feelings.

  “Mina, he is not a child,” said Simon, coming over to lead her to her chair.

  Giving her husband a hard look, Mina said, “Neither are you, but you never complain about the care I give when you are ill.”

  “But that is because I am hopeless,” he said with a smile, raising her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles. “Graham is a naval man. He’s made of much sterner stuff.”

  Graham stared at his plate, refusing to watch as his sister blushed before giving Simon a saucy wink.

  “And I am not ill,” he said. “I am injured. There is a world of difference.”