Anything but Love (The Putney Brothers Book 1) Read online

  Anything

  But Love

  Elizabeth

  Bramwell

  Copyright © Elizabeth Bramwell

  All the characters and scenes in this book are a work of fiction, unfortunately, because I desperately wish that Sir Joseph and Lady Putney were my aunt and uncle, and Eustacia Melthwaite my Godmama. Any similarity to real people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-1-989669-06-8

  DEDICATION

  For Max & Eddie

  I love you both to bits

  Books by Elizabeth Bramwell

  The Regency Romps Series

  The Dashing Widow

  The Foolish Friend

  His Darling Belle

  The Rebel Wife

  A Novel Miss

  The Alter Ego

  The Independent Heiress

  The Devilish Duke

  The Putney Brothers

  Anything But Love

  Chapter One

  “Babies,” said Sir Joseph, thumping the breakfast table for effect. “When are one of you going to provide me with grandchildren that I can fuss over?”

  His sons, who had heard this tirade multiple times over the last three months, did not bother to react. The youngest, Harry, kept his eyes firmly on his newspaper, while the middle son, John, continued to eat his scrambled eggs as though nothing of note had been said. The eldest, Charles, had been perusing a very unusual letter, and thus paid little attention to the world around him.

  “They’re still young, my dear,” said his wife, Lady Putney with her usual calm demeanour. “How you expect them to have found wives in the three days since you last broached the subject is beyond me.”

  “They might be young, but I’m not,” grumbled Sir Joseph. “And the more my angina plays up, the more aware I am that my time on this earth is limited.”

  His sons did not react to this pronouncement, either. They’d heard it enough times to understand that it was symptomatic of the pain he was in, rather than any serious warning that the Grim Reaper was due to arrive at Putney Manor.

  Lady Putney casually buttered her toast. “You’re as strong as an ox, and you know it. Besides, what do you want them to do? Marry the first girl that dances across their line of vision?”

  “I would have considered marrying Miss Manning,” said Harry without looking up from his paper. “She chose that publisher fellow before I’d given it much thought, though.”

  “She wouldn’t have had you,” said John after swallowing the last of his breakfast. “Far too intelligent to settle for her academic inferior.”

  “Did you notice that I’m the one reading the paper?” asked Harry, arching one brow as he regarded his brother.

  John just grinned. “And understanding roughly one word in three, no doubt!”

  “I’d resent that if it weren’t so close to the truth,” sighed Harry, finally folding up the broadsheet. “Something about a royal scandal again, although why anyone should be surprised or offended is beyond me. It’s the Royal Dukes. Scandal is what they do.”

  Sir Joseph grimaced. “Aye, and a bigger bunch of fools you’ll never meet! Damned if I wouldn’t be ashamed of my offspring if I were King George!”

  “You’d have been a better King and Father for a start,” said John frankly. “I’d give my eye teeth to see you give the Princes a dressing down the way you do us!”

  Harry’s eyes widened in faux alarm. “No, God, please! Not a dressing down! Anything but that! I’d rather marry a horse-faced harridan than face Sir Joseph in a huff!”

  John inclined his head to his parents. “Congratulations; your youngest son has announced his engagement to Lady Eugenia. I expect she’ll move in within the month, right about the time that I move straight out.”

  Harry launched a crust of toast down the table, where it bounced off his older brother’s head.

  “Don’t be cruel about those who are not here to defend themselves, John,” said his mother with aplomb that could not quite disguise her horror at the idea of having Lady Eugenia as a daughter-in-law.

  “He’s not brave enough to say it to her face,’ said Harry with considerable cheer. “Not that I blame him, either. When you think of the lengths that Lord Arthur had to go to in order to stop her chasing after him!”

  “There’s no fear the girl would look twice at either of you,” said Sir Joseph with considerable vexation. “She’s after a Peer or at least someone with the prospect of becoming one.”

  “Thank heaven for small mercies,” said Harry with a contented sigh.

  Sir Joseph rubbed at his brow. “Forget about Lady Eugenia and stop vexing me. How you can neglect the other hundred or so eligible young women you’ve met in London is beyond my comprehension, for I knew I was going to marry your mother from the first time we talked.”

  “Wasn’t she already engaged?” said John, his smile betraying the fact he already knew the answer. “And weren’t you called out over the whole incident?”

  “Oooh, a duel!” said Harry, his eyes lighting up. “Imagine finding a lady worth fighting a duel over! I say, Father, if I wasn’t aware of the outcome of that particular adventure, I’d never have believed you had it in you to steal away a diamond like our mother!”

  “I was very susceptible to romance,” said Lady Putney, casting a loving smile over at her husband.

  “The difference, my boys, is that I applied myself to the task of winning her heart,” retorted Sir Joseph. “If a rough about the edges nabob like myself can win a woman like your mother, then I can see no excuse for you three considering you have the advantages of looks and fortune.”

  “Father just called us handsome,” said Harry, placing a hand to his heart. “Did you hear that, John? He likes us!”

  “Wouldn’t go that far,” sighed his older brother. “Notice that he did not include character or intellect on that list.”

  “That’s because it all went to Charles,” retorted their father, although his eldest son gave no sign of being aware of the conversation. “Not that he’s any better than the two of you when it comes to settling down into marriage. It’s not as though your mother and I haven’t worked hard to introduce you to as many young ladies as possible. Surely there’s one girl for each of you from the ones you’ve met?”

  “That’s the thing, Father,” apologized Harry. “So far, there hasn’t been! I’ve fancied myself in love half a dozen times, but in every case, it’s fizzled out within the week, so I cannot think that my heart will ever truly be taken.”

  “Can’t say I’ve ever met a girl that I’ve cared for above half,” admitted John. “Not that there aren’t plenty of brilliant young women whose acquaintance I’m happy to have made – just that I wish them all happy marriages with someone other than me.”

  “Not to mention how many girls would make eyes at you when you were still in regimentals,” said Harry, looking over his brother with a thoughtful expression. “If you couldn’t find a girl you liked when you were still a redcoat and surrounded by them, then there’s little hope now you’ve sold out.”

  “The uniform did have advantages,” admitted John, “but it seemed to be the twittering wigeons that were the most attracted to it. Lord, just consider who Rowlands ended up married to! Lovely girl in her way, but genuinely believed Percy when he told her that Waterloo was fought from barges on a giant lake.”

  “You’re too picky, that’s the problem,” sniffed Sir Joseph.

  “Would you expect them to settle for anything less than you did, my love?” said Lady Putney with a light air that signalled danger clearer than any warning bell.

  Sir Joseph’
s expression softened as it rested on the features of his wife. She might well consider herself to be homely and past her best looks, but he knew different. Her figure was stout, but her movements retained the grace that had always characterized her. She might abhor the wrinkles she’d collected about her eyes, but he took them as a sign of her easy laugh and good nature, for her smile was the most beautiful thing in all the world. As far as Sir Joseph was concerned, no one with any sense could meet his wife and not consider her a truly beautiful creature. If anyone treated her with less than total respect, he knew they were inconsequential at best and ripe for destruction at worst.

  Not that he’d needed to do anything so drastic in at least a decade, but still, he retained the sentiment.

  “I merely think they should look a little harder, my dear,” he replied. “Had I waited for Providence to set you in my lap, we would never have met. It took a Public Assembly in Telford that I did not wish to attend for our stars to align.”

  “And the duel,” added John.

  Sir Joseph sighed as he shook his head. “I dearly regret telling you that story when you were younger. Besides, duelling is illegal now, so it’s not an option for you. A public assembly, however, is.”

  “I promise faithfully to attend a Public Assembly in Telford,” said Harry with great dignity. “By the by, where is Telford, exactly?”

  “Shropshire, as well you know,” replied his mother before flinging half a slice of buttered toast at him. He caught it mid-air and smiled.

  “Thank you, I was just regretting throwing my last bite at John.”

  “I give up,” sighed Sir Joseph. “All I want is for the three of you to apply yourselves to the task of finding wives, but what young lady in her right mind would marry one of you?”

  “I don’t know about that,” said Harry around his mouthful of toast. “Charlie’s not so bad when you think about it, are you, Charlie?”

  The eldest of the Putney sons finally looked up from his letter. “What was that?”

  “I was paying you your annual compliment, and you missed it,” sighed Harry. “Now you must wait for another twelvemonth until I praise you again. Really, I thought you would have had the decency to mark the occasion.”

  Charles smiled, but his eyes remained tight. “Did you, brat? I know not how my heart will survive.”

  “What’s the letter all about?” asked John, nodding to the piece of cream paper still clutched in his older brother’s hand. “Must be interesting to have kept you from throwing something at Harry.”

  “Toast, please!” said the youngest brother, only to be ignored by everyone.

  “Something from an old acquaintance of mine,” said Charles, still frowning at the letter. “Well, not exactly. His sister.”

  “Sister?” repeated Sir Joseph, his interest caught. “Why would a woman throw propriety to the wind and write directly to her brother’s friend?”

  “It is rather irregular,” admitted Charles. “To be frank with you, I’m surprised she even remembered my direction.”

  “Rather forward of the girl,” said Harry, with what appeared to be curiosity rather than condemnation. “Does she elaborate?”

  “It seems that she might be in a spot of bother, and her brother instructed her to reach out to me if there was a problem. It says that all will be explained upon my arrival, but that she must urge me to hurry.”

  “How odd,” said his mother, looking toward the letter as though she would dearly love it to spill its secrets to her. “Could her brother not help directly? Or her guardian?”

  Charles shook his head. “No, for Gordon Hillis has gone to China as part of Amherst’s diplomatic mission, remember? He’s trying to learn to speak Chinese, but he’s having a devil of a time picking it up, for even the Chinamen here in Britain won’t teach it to outsiders.”

  “Gordon’s sister? Why didn’t you say so?” said Sir Joseph, exasperated. “He’s your closest friend in the world, which makes them practically family.”

  “Marianne has written to you? I haven’t seen her since her first Season. Poor girl is all knees and elbows – or at least she was at her come-out,” said John. “Did tell me that she appreciated my walking about with her, though, as my regimentals added to her consequence.”

  “Three Seasons ago,” said Harry. “I remember it because I was trying to impress Lady Cordelia at her debutante ball, but I got partnered with Miss Hillis. I don’t know if she’d even been taught to dance, for I swear every step was wrong. A pity, for she’s quite fun to converse with.”

  Lady Putney furrowed her brow. “What are you talking about? Marianne is a delightful girl and very graceful. To be sure, her dresses have a few too many frills to be considered fashionable, but she danced beautifully with Charles on more than one occasion.”

  “Harry’s just not as light on his feet as he likes to think he is. He probably trod on the poor thing’s toes, and she spent the rest of the dance trying to avoid his hooves,” said Charles dismissively. He shook his head as he perused the letter once again. “It is a bit untoward for an unmarried woman to write to me, but she’s never taken such liberty before, and it is the sort of thing that Gordon would tell someone to do. Perhaps I should go and check on her.”

  “But your Aunt Eustacia is arriving today,” said his mother, looking alarmed. “You know how much she has been looking forward to seeing you.”

  “I’m sure Mrs Melthwaite will understand,” said Charles with a smile. “Besides, I will be back by the evening so she will miss me for only a few hours at most.”

  Eustacia Melthwaite was not his true relative, but rather his mother’s best friend since childhood. Since the formidable lady had successfully married off the last of her five children two years earlier, she’d turned her attention to the Putney boys. He’d never decided if this was amusing or intolerable, supposing it depended on whether her attention was aimed at him, or at his brothers

  “Only a few hours? Are you sure” said John, looking unconvinced. “Miss Hillis lives in London all year, doesn’t she? That’s a long way from Montgomeryshire on the off chance she’s got herself into a scrape – and ten to one it will not be anything serious.”

  “No, she’s staying in the country with her relatives, as she has since Gordon left,” said Charles. “She addresses it in her letter and apologizes for not having seen us since her brother left for China.”

  “Can’t say I noticed,” shrugged Harry.

  “I knew she wasn’t in town but didn’t think much of it,” admitted Charles, although he at least had the decency to sound embarrassed. “I suppose I assumed she was off with relatives while Gordon was abroad. What do you think, Father? Should I go visit her? She’s staying with her aunt in Clun, so it’s not too far to journey.”

  Sir Joseph, who had been regarding his eldest son for some time, did not answer straight away.

  He did not have a favourite among his boys and would have vehemently denied even the tiniest preference had anyone thought to ask him. But Charles was the most like him in terms of brains and dependability, even if his good looks came from his mother’s side of the family. Dark eyes, dark hair, and a bronze colouring gained from so much time out on the estates made him look slightly roguish, while his easy smile had won him many an admirer. He was very tall with broad shoulders that made tailors weep with happiness, and possessed a quiet strength that made him popular among the ladies of the Ton, even if they were not entirely sure why.

  It made sense, then, that Miss Hillis would think of Charles first from amongst her brother’s friends if she truly required aid, and that Gordon Hillis would think to suggest him as a surrogate brother.

  Besides, if there was one thing that Sir Joseph believed in above all others, it was that a call from a damsel in distress must always be answered by anyone who considered themselves a gentleman.

  He’d have never married the love of his life, otherwise.

  “Will it tax your horses?” he asked.

  Charles s
hook his head. “No, Sir. I believe I can reach my destination in a little under three hours.”

  “Make sure you pack enough clothes for a few nights in Clun,” said Lady Putney, “and a warm cape. It might be fine weather to ride about in, but that doesn’t mean it won’t change in a heartbeat. The Sun has clean sheets and is adequate if you must put up for a few nights, although I trust you will do everything possible to get back home in good health as soon as you can.”

  “Pack your woollen long johns,” added Harry with a straight face. “And a warm brick for your feet.”

  “Best to take some of mother’s Headache Tincture with you, just to be safe,” said John. “Can’t have you laid up in bed while Aunt Eustacia is here, itching to meddle in your future.”

  “Not to worry,” said Charles as he got to his feet. “I will take my groom with me, and as Phillips clucks over me more than the most devoted nurse, you may all rest assured that all my travel needs will be catered for even if I meet a flood of biblical proportions along the way.”

  “I’d love to know what I did to deserve such ungrateful children,” muttered Lady Putney, but she still presented her cheek to Charles when he approached to give her a kiss.

  “A better question would be to ask what devil my brothers made a bargain with to land such exceptional parents,” said Charles. “At least you have me to make up for them.”

  “That’s a fair point,” conceded Harry, while John just nodded his agreement.

  Sir Joseph just beamed with happiness, knowing that there was no father in all the Empire that was as content as he.

  Or at least as he would be, if the incorrigible brats finally heeded his advice and settled down to marry.

  *

  Marianne was surprised to discover that her aunt had been perfectly correct about embroidery being a soothing activity for a young lady. Stabbing the peach muslin over and over with a thin needle, all the while imagining that it was her cousin’s face, had not only prevented her from dumping a pitcher of lemonade over his ridiculous head while he leered at her, but she had even found it possible to hold her tongue firmly inside her mouth. His pontification about how Amherst should “force the Chinese to expand their trade” had brought her close to her limits of endurance, but embroidery, quite shockingly, helped her maintain her cool.