A Gentleman Never Tells (23 page)

“I told you to hush up, girl,” Godfrey snapped.

“Godfrey,” Gabrielle said, stepping forward. “That is no way to speak to your sister. Can we go inside and see your mother?”

“No,” he said, walking closer to them for the first time. Fear returned to his eyes. “Don’t tell me mum what I did. I’ll find a way to pay back the money.”

“How?” Brent asked. “By stealing more dogs or maybe stealing something else next time?”

“I’m not a thief,” Godfrey said, tears pooling in his eyes. “I gave the dogs back. I couldn’t give yours back.”

“Godfrey, one way or the other, we’re going in to see your mama whether or not you want us to.”

The lad swallowed hard and then suddenly hung his head and said, “Come on.”

Brent, Gabrielle, and Brutus followed Godfrey and Emily down the street to one of the small houses. Gabrie told Brutus to stay outside. As soon as Godfrey touched the door, Prissy started barking. They stepped inside a one-room house. Prissy ran toward Brent, barking like the hounds of hell were after her.

Brent bent down and the little dog jumped up into his arms and started licking his face. He patted and rubbed her head and hugged her to him as he laughed. “How’ve you been, girl?”

“Godfrey, son, why in God’s name have you invited these nice-looking people into our home? You know I’m not receiving guests.”

Brent looked past Prissy and saw a woman who didn’t look much older than he, sitting up in a bed that stood in the far corner of the room. She was wrapped in a heavy cloak, and several blankets lay across the bed. The woman was pale and frail-looking. Her long, graying hair hung limply on her shoulders. Emily joined her other sister in a corner, and Godfrey immediately started putting more wood on the fading fire.

“Please excuse us, Mrs.…?” Gabrielle said.

“Jones,” she said weakly. “I’m Mrs. Carlton Jones, but my husband is no longer with us. He died almost two years ago now.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” Gabrielle said.

“Prissy acts as if she knows you,” the woman said, looking at Brent. “Godfrey told me that was her name. He’s the one who gave Prissy to me. The name suits her, don’t you think so?”

“Yes, it does,” Brent said, tucking the little dog under his arm.

“But I’ve never seen you before. Em, go heat some water and make these nice people some tea. Godfrey, stop poking that fire and pull the chairs over so they can sit down and tell me why they’ve come.”

“No, no, please don’t trouble your daughter for us,” Brent said, rubbing Prissy. “We can’t stay long enough for tea.”

Pris squirmed, whined, and wanted to get down, so Brent set her on the floor. She ran back over to the woman and put her front paws on the bed. The woman reached down and lifted Prissy up on the bed with her. Brent watched in surprise as Prissy made herself comfortable in the woman’s lap.

“Well, that’s a shame. What can I do for you, Mr.…?”

“Brentwood, madame,” he said, not wanting the woman to know he was a viscount. “Just call me Brentwood, and this is Lady Gabrielle.”

The woman’s eyes rounded in surprise. “A real lady?” She looked at Gabrielle and then brushed a tangled strand of hair away from her shoulder and straightened her bed coat. “Godfrey told me he was working for someone who paid him well.” She stopped and looked at Brent. “It’s you, isn’t it? He also told me he was working for a man who gave Prissy to him. Are you the kind man who did that?”

Brent cleared his throat. “No, madame, I did not give Prissy to him.”

“Oh,” she said, surprised, and started rubbing Prissy’s back.

Gabrielle touched Brent’s arm. “May I talk to you? Alone.”

“No, Gabrie. I know what you are going to say, and no.”

Gabrielle smiled at the woman and said, “Would you excuse us, Mrs. Jones? We’re going to step outside for a moment. We’ll be right back.”

The sickly woman looked puzzled. “All right.”

Brent opened the door for Gabrielle, and she stepped outside into the rain. Brutus came walking over to stand between them.

“I know what you are going to say, and just don’t do it,” Brent argued before she even opened her mouth.

“I will say it. Brent, you can’t tell that woman what Godfrey did. You are not an uncaring person, and you can see she is far too ill to hear that about her son on top of your taking Prissy away from her.”

“What are you saying? I have to tell her, Gabrielle. He stole dogs and extorted money. That’s against the law.”

Gabrielle blinked rapidly, as if she didn’t understand him. “But he was trying to get enough money for a doctor to help his mother. It might have been the wrong thing to do, but it was for a very good reason.”

“That doesn’t make it right. If he isn’t punished for doing this, he might do it again, or do something worse next time.”

She moistened her lips. “I agree he needs some type of punishment, but that doesn’t mean his mother has to know. He said he would pay back the money, and that can be his punishment.”

“Pay it back with what, Gabrie?” Brent said, exasperated as the chilling, misting rain fell on his hatless head. “He has no money.”

“You can give him a job and let him work it off.”

“Me?” She was unbelievable! “Me, give a job to the wretched little thief who stole my dog?”

“All right, I’ll give him a job. He not only needs to pay back Lord Snellingly and Lord Waldo, but once he gets enough money for a doctor to see his mother, I’m sure he will need money for some type of medicines or tonics or something.”

“Fine, you give him a job,” Brent said a little too sharply, and she flinched at his harsh tone. Brent took a deep breath. He didn’t like arguing with Gabrielle. “You give him a job,” he said in a softer tone. “I’m going to get Prissy and go home.”

Gabrielle lowered her lashes over her eyes. “I’ll wait out here with Brutus.”

He walked back into the house. The woman’s eyes were filled with tears and her lips trembled. “I’m sorry, Mr. Brentwood, Godfrey just told me he found the dog in the park and she is your dog and you have come for her. I understand.”

She picked Prissy up off her lap and sat her down on the floor. Now Brent felt like a wretch. Why did the woman have to be sick?

“Come, Prissy.” The Pomeranian just looked at him. Pris had always been stubborn. “Come on, girl, let’s go.” Prissy barked once and started toward him. He bent down to scoop her up, but she quickly barked again and then turned around and ran back to the bed. She lifted her front paws on the bed and barked at the woman.

“Shoo—Prissy. Your master has come for you. Shoo now, you must go with him.”

Brent stared at Prissy, who was begging the woman to pick her up and put her on the bed, and for a moment he saw his mother. That was exactly how Prissy used to demand his mother put her on the bed. Brent’s heart softened. He thought about all the times the dog had gotten him up early, barked at the moon, and scratched on his door. Had he kept Prissy only because of his mother? He had missed the little mutt when she first disappeared, so he must have some feelings for the dog.

It hardly mattered anymore. Prissy was making her choice. She wanted to stay, and he was going to allow it. Somehow, he knew his mother would want this woman to have Prissy.

“You keep her, Mrs. Jones. She seems quite taken with you.”

A hopeful expression rounded her dark-circled eyes. “Oh, I couldn’t take her from you. I’m just happy we were able to keep her safe until you found out where she was.” She looked at Prissy. “You stop holding up your master. Now go.”

Brent walked over and picked up the little dog and gave her a hug. Prissy licked his face again and barked. He then placed the dog in Mrs. Jones’s lap.

“No, Mrs. Jones, she’s your dog now. You’ve taken excellent care of her. I’ll keep up with her through Godfrey.”

Mrs. Jones smiled gratefully and lovingly stroked Prissy’s back. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Get better so you can continue to take good care of her.” Brent looked at the two girls who hadn’t moved from the corner. “You will help your mother take care of Prissy, won’t you?” The girls nodded. “All right then.” Brent looked at Godfrey and pointed toward the door. “I’ll see you outside.”

The lad followed Brent. Brutus growled at Godfrey, and the lad backed up. Gabrielle rubbed the mastiff’s shoulder and calmed him. Brent could tell the temperature was dropping. The misty rain felt icy to his hatless head. He wrapped his scarf tighter about his throat and hoped they didn’t have to walk too far before finding a cab to hire.

Gabrielle gave him a questioning stare, but he turned to Godfrey and said, “There’s still the problem of what to do about your taking money from Lord Waldo and Lord Snellingly.”

Godfrey ran a hand through his damp red hair. “I know it was wrong, but me mum gets worse every day. She hasn’t the strength to get out of bed anymore. We don’t know what’s wrong with her. I’ve got to get her help.”

“I understand, but the best way to help your mother is to make an honest wage, Godfrey. I’ll see that a doctor comes around tomorrow to examine her.”

Grateful tears brightened Godfrey’s eyes again.

“Do you have Lady Windham’s dog or any other dogs?”

He nodded before lowering his head. “Two. They are in a pen behind the milk shed.”

“All right. The first thing you are going to do this afternoon is take back the dogs you have, and do not accept any money for their return. Understood?”

Godfrey nodded again.

“Then tomorrow you are going back to Snellingly’s and Lord Waldo’s houses to give back the money they gave you.”

His eyes widened and he raked the back of his hand under his nose. “But how will I pay for the doctor you will send if I give back their money?”

“I’ll take care of the doctor for now. In return, you will deliver fresh milk and eggs to my house every day until spring. That should just about pay me back. Do you have any problems with this?”

“No, my lord,” he said and pulled his coat tighter about his neck.

“If you stay faithful to your deliveries each day, I’ll see to it your mother has whatever medicines, tonics, or elixirs she needs, but it all depends on how dedicated you are.”

Godfrey’s shoulders lifted. “I won’t neglect my duties to you, my lord. I won’t miss a day.”

“See that you don’t.” Brent turned toward Gabrielle. Her eyes shimmered with tears of happiness. She was smiling at him, letting him know she approved of how he had handled Godfrey, and suddenly that meant everything to him.

“My lord.”

Brent turned back to Godfrey.

“Thank you for giving Prissy to me mum.”

Brent nodded once and watched the lad go back into his house.

“Thank you,” Gabrielle said.

He tried to smile at her and realized his lip had swollen from where Godfrey had hit him. He grunted a laugh. He’d lost three hats and had his lip cut three times since he’d met Gabrielle, and he didn’t give a damn. She had been worth it.

He touched the small of her back. “Let’s go see if we can find a hackney and get out of this weather.” They looked around for Brutus and noticed he was struggling to get up.

“Come on, boy,” Brent said. “I know it’s difficult to get the legs going when it’s cold and wet. I’ll help you.” Brent helped Brutus to lift his back legs. The dog coughed, shuddered, and shook off the rain.

Brent and Gabrielle walked in silence, and Brent was thankful. He needed to think about his feelings for her. He didn’t know when or how it had happened, but she’d filled a part of him no other woman ever had. He realized now that she had found that spot inside of him where love was hidden. She had watered it, tended it, and made it grow. And he had to find a way to tell her.

Giving Prissy to Mrs. Jones had made him realize a few things about Gabrielle he had avoided even thinking about. But now it was time to do just that.

They were quite a far distance from Godfrey’s house when Gabrielle said, “I know it was very hard for you, Brent, but you did the right thing.”

He glanced over at her, but her hood covered the side of her face so he couldn’t see her. “You think so?”

She nodded. “I do.”

“I hope the lad has learned his lesson. After the lecture from you, I couldn’t do anything but help his mother and give him a job so he could work off the money he had to repay.”

“You would have done the right thing concerning his mother had I not even been here. But I wasn’t talking about Godfrey. I was talking about Prissy. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you to give up your mother’s cherished pet.”

Brent wondered if he should tell Gabrielle it was easier than he thought it would be. And the truth was, he and Prissy had only tolerated each other the past two years.

But all he said was, “Mrs. Jones obviously pampers Prissy as much as my mother did, and I’m sure the dog is delighted not to be leaving the woman. I’m content knowing Pris is well cared for.”

Brent touched Gabrielle’s arm, and they stopped. Her heavy velvet cloak had absorbed about as much rain as it could, and her hair and clothing must be getting wet. With the temperature as cold as it was, it wouldn’t take long for her to get chilled. Her face was damp, but her eyes sparkled invitingly at him. He knew she was cold, and he needed to find them a cab, but he had to say what was on his mind before he lost his nerve. He was afraid if he waited until they found a carriage or until he got her home, if he waited until he had more time to think about it, he’d change his mind, do what suited him, and never tell her.

“I’ve come to another conclusion, Gabrielle. I’m not going to marry you. I’m giving you the freedom you want.”

Her eyes widened and blinked rapidly. Her mouth fell open, and a surprised gasp passed her beautiful lips.

“I realized if I could allow Prissy to make the decision about who she wanted to live with for the rest of her life, I could certainly let you be free to decide who you would spend the rest of your life with.”

Her eyes searched his face. “I-I don’t know what to say. What about your brothers and my father’s vow to ruin their business if we don’t marry?”

The rain started coming down harder. “That’s no longer an issue. I recently did something I’m sure my brothers won’t like if they find out the truth, which I’m sure they will; but I did it anyway.”