A Gentleman Never Tells

chapter Eighteen

Always do right; this will gratify some people and astonish the rest.

—Mark Twain

Golden orbs!

Brent smiled and his body tightened every time he thought about his encounter with Gabrielle yesterday afternoon, and that was often. She had bewitched him. If she hadn’t been sitting on his lap, caressing his ears with such tenderness, tempting him with her kisses and touches, he would never have agreed for her to meet him in the park and come with him to follow Godfrey. It was really something he should be doing alone, but given the circumstances of what she had been doing at the time, how could he have denied her anything she wanted?

Brent chuckled to himself. Golden orbs!

She was unbelievable! And oh, so tempting. After yesterday, he could hardly wait to make her his wife.

But his yearning for her was more than just his attraction to her. He loved not knowing what she was going to come up with next to try to get him to free her from the bond of marriage to him. He hoped her father returned soon so all the financial paperwork could be finalized. A few weeks ago, he would never have thought it, let alone admitted it, but now he could say fate chose well for him. He was besotted with Gabrielle. Thoughts of her smiling at him, laughing with him, and even being outraged by him played through his mind.

Oh, yes. He was very happy to be marrying her. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of her not belonging to him.

He heard a conveyance approaching and looked up to see Muggs driving up in a closed carriage. The man always looked wary of Brent, but there was no reason for him to. Brent wasn’t one to hold a grudge. Besides, the man had attacked him only after the duke had ordered him to.

When the carriage rolled to a stop, Brent took off his hat and walked over to open the door. He wanted to take hold of Gabrielle’s waist and swing her around as he helped her down, but since Muggs was already glaring at him, Brent politely took her hand and let her step down on her own. He started to shut the door, but Gabrielle touched his arm.

“I hope you don’t mind, my lord, but I brought Brutus with me.”

Yes, he did mind. He stepped close to her so Muggs wouldn’t hear everything he said. “Gabrie, this is not a good time to have him along.”

She stuck her hands in the black velvet muff she carried. “But, my lord, he looked so forlorn when I started to leave. You know how much he enjoys the park. I couldn’t say no to him.”

“We will be following two girls and a lad pulling a milk cart. What if he barks at a squirrel or another dog and tips the young man to the fact we are following them?”

She looked at him aghast. “You know Brutus doesn’t bark at squirrels,” she admonished. “He is very well behaved and he minds me instantly. I will not let him reveal to anyone what we are doing. So do not worry; he will not hamper our mission.”

He looked at her bright eyes and hopeful expression and knew he couldn’t deny her.

“All right,” he said and settled his hat back on his head. Reaching back into the carriage, he helped Brutus move his hind legs so he could step down. “Come on, boy, we don’t have much time. I don’t want to miss Godfrey.”

The sky was gray and the air chilly but not bitter as they walked to the area Brent had already picked out, where they could hide behind a stand of trees. He had a fairly good idea of which path Godfrey took each day, and it was simply a matter of waiting until he emerged from the park. All they had to do was stay out of his sight as they followed him. And Brent kept thinking it would have been a whole lot easier to do that without Gabrielle and Brutus.

Once they were seated behind the largest tree, Gabrie said, “Explain to me once again why you think Godfrey is the dog thief. I’m afraid I had my mind on other things when we were talking yesterday.”

Brent’s lower body stirred. “Gabrie, let’s not discuss right now what your mind was on yesterday.” He grinned. “But at another time, I’d be most interested in finding out what other things you learned from that book.”

Heightened color rose in her cheeks. “You have heard all you are going to hear from me about that book, Brent. I put it back where I found it, shoved the chest up against it, and I don’t intend to look at it ever again.”

“Pity,” he said and hid a chuckle behind his gloved hand and a cough. “Now, regarding your question about Godfrey, at first I didn’t think there was a connection, and I’m still not certain of my suspicions. Prissy and Tulip went missing in the park and Josephine in Snellingly’s neighborhood. But yesterday it dawned on me that Godfrey travels through both every day of the week. So I went to see Snellingly and Lord Waldo and asked about who had returned their dogs. They both gave the same description of a red-haired, strapping lad of about twelve to thirteen years of age. That fits Godfrey. It just seemed too much of a coincidence to me that he found both dogs. Especially now that Lady Windham’s dog is missing. I thought it might not be a bad idea to know where he lives and then to talk to him.”

“In case more dogs go missing and are mysteriously found and returned by him.”

He smiled. “Exactly.”

“But if he is the dog thief and returned their dogs, why wouldn’t he have returned Prissy first, since she was the first to go missing?”

Brent looked into her concerned eyes, and a calm feeling settled over him. “I don’t know the answer to that. I’m hoping to find out today.”

Brutus lifted his head and looked straight in front of him as if he heard something. A few seconds later, Brent heard the rumbling of wheels and rattle of milk cans.

“I hear the cart,” he said, peering around a tree. “Make sure Brutus remains quiet.”

“He will not make a sound,” Gabrielle assured him as she patted the dog’s head and rose on her knees to watch.

When Brent considered the lad and the two girls a safe distance ahead of them, he, Gabrielle, and Brutus rose and followed them. Godfrey was obviously well versed on where he was going and the shortest route to get across the city. Within a few minutes, he left the shopping district of London and was maneuvering his way across the back streets and through narrow alleys. Brent stopped trying to remember the route they were taking, deciding it would be best to hire a cab to take them back to Mayfair as soon as their mission was complete. It was easy to stay out of sight and keep up with Godfrey because of the rattle of milk cans and the squeaking of the cart’s wheels.

Occasionally the lad would stop and talk to someone, or he and the girls would wave to a passing rig or wagon, but they kept a steady pace of winding farther and farther into an area of town where Brent would have rather Gabrielle not be. But there was no going back now.

Brent often looked over at her. She and Brutus had no trouble keeping pace with him. And by the expressions on the faces of some of the people they passed, no one was going to come near them with Brutus walking between them.

Brent estimated they had been following Godfrey for a couple of hours when they came to a neighborhood of rundown tenant houses. The skies had turned dark and thunderous, but not a drop of rain had fallen. He knew better than to leave his house without an umbrella, but his mind had been too busy with other thoughts when he’d walked out the door. He hoped the rain would hold off until after he talked to Godfrey.

A few minutes later, Godfrey stopped in front of what looked to be a small barn. Brent heard him tell the girls to go on home and that he would put the cart away and wash the milk cans. The girls skipped a couple of houses down the street and disappeared.

Brent turned to Gabrielle and said, “You and Brutus stay here. I want to talk to Godfrey alone.”

“Talk to him?” she asked, taking her hand out of her muff and laying it on his chest.

He liked the warmth of her touch. “That’s why I followed him, Gabrie.”

“Isn’t that dangerous? I thought you just wanted to find out where he lived.”

Brent could see she was concerned. “I need to ask him a few questions. I want to talk to him about where he found the dogs. You and Brutus stay here, and don’t worry.”

Godfrey was coming back to the cart to get more cans when Brent was close enough to say to him, “Godfrey, I’d like a word with you.”

The lad looked up and saw Brent only a few feet away. He grabbed a can off the cart and threw it at Brent. Brent ducked and then sidestepped the tumbling can. The lad took off running.

“Stop!” Brent yelled and managed to get close enough to grab the back of Godfrey’s coat, stopping him. When the young man swung around, he surprised Brent with a fast, hard fist to the side of his mouth, snapping his head back. Brent’s hat flew off his head and he staggered. A moment later he heard Gabrielle yell, “Brutus, no!”

Brent struggled to regain his footing as Godfrey quickly bent low and rammed his shoulder into Brent’s stomach and pushed him backward. Brent stumbled over a milk can and fell to the ground. He grunted and looked up in time to see Brutus’s big front paws land on Godfrey’s chest and pummel him to the ground.

“Get him off me!” Godfrey screamed, trying to squirm away from the large dog, who growled, slobbered, and held him pinned to the ground with two saucer-sized paws. “Help me!”

“Stop fighting him, and he won’t hurt you,” Brent said, rolling to his feet. “Off! Brutus, get off!” The dog looked at Brent but didn’t move. “Off, Brutus,” he said and grabbed him by the neck scruff.

Panting, Brutus growled his complaint but hobbled off Godfrey.

Gabrielle ran up to them and dropped to her knees and hugged Brutus around his big shoulders and neck. When she looked up at him, Brent was surprised to see tears brimming in her eyes.

“He hasn’t been able to run for months,” she said with a tremulous smile. “I couldn’t stop him. He wanted to help you.”

A lump formed in Brent’s throat. “I know,” he said and tried to tell Gabrie with his eyes he understood what she was feeling. He knew what it took out of the old dog to help him. Brent patted the dog’s head with one hand and wiped blood from the corner of his mouth with the other. Godfrey had hit him on the same side of the mouth as his previous injuries, and it hurt like hell. He looked around for his hat and spotted it flattened into the ground. Brent didn’t know if a can had rolled over it or if Brutus had stomped on it, but it was definitely ruined.

Brent looked at Godfrey, who was backing away from the dog. “Get him away from me,” Godfrey shouted again.

“First, tell me… where is my dog?”

“He’s standing right beside you,” Godfrey said, fear and fury flashing in his eyes.

“No, that’s her dog.” Brent pointed toward Gabrielle.

“What dog are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Godfrey. You know the small dog I’m talking about. I paid you to be on the lookout for my Pomeranian. I know you returned Lord Snellingly’s and Lord Waldo’s dogs, so where is mine?”

“I’ll tell you.”

Brent turned and saw one of Godfrey’s sisters standing a short distance away. The misting rain fell on her white mobcap and straight shoulders. Brent didn’t know when it had started to rain.

“You stay quiet, Emily,” Godfrey said. “You don’t have anything to say.”

The girl didn’t even look at her brother. “Just don’t let the big dog hurt him again, and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

Gabrielle rose to stand beside Brent and said, “Brutus didn’t hurt him and will not hurt him. He only wanted to stop Godfrey from running away. He’s big but a gentle dog.”

“Don’t say anything, Em,” Godfrey ordered. “This doesn’t involve you.”

The slender brown-eyed girl walked closer. “Yes, it does. We all took the dog that day. No one ever knew. It was easy to keep all the dogs quiet in the wagon. We just kept putting milk in a bowl for them. Your dog is inside the house with our mother.”

Relief washed through Brent like water rushing over stones in a brook. Prissy was alive.

Gabrielle grabbed his arm and squeezed it as she leaned against his side. “Thank God,” she whispered. “You’ve found her.”

“You can’t have her back,” Godfrey spat at him.

“We’ll see about that,” Brent muttered. He turned to the girl. “Where is your mother?”

“Wait, Brent,” Gabrielle said. “Why don’t you talk to him first and let him tell his story.”

Gabrielle had pulled the hood of her black velvet cloak over her bonnet, and looking at her, Brent saw the intriguing, gorgeous, and tempting young lady he met in the park weeks ago, who said to him, “You talk softly to dogs just like you do to people.”

She pulled a handkerchief out of her muff and handed it to him. He looked from Godfrey to the girl, and then back to Gabrielle as he pressed her handkerchief to the corner of his mouth. He supposed with his adventures with Gabrielle, he was destined to lose his hats and have a cut lip.

Brent turned toward Godfrey and said, “Tell us why you took the dogs.”

The lad nervously wiped rain from his face, and Brent was reminded how young he was.

“It wasn’t my fault you lost her,” he said belligerently. “She was just wandering around in the park that morning when we were heading home. She started following us, so I put her in the wagon. We planned to take her back to the park the next day, but me mum thought I’d brought the dog home for her, and I couldn’t tell her I didn’t.”

“She’s sick,” the girl said.

“What is wrong with her?” Gabrielle asked.

The girl shrugged and shook her head.

“It don’t matter what’s wrong with her,” Godfrey said angrily. “She fell in love with that dog the moment she saw it. I couldn’t take it away from her.”

“What about the other dogs?” Gabrielle asked. “Why take them?”

Godfrey looked at Brent and pointed his finger at him. “He gave me money just to look for the dog and said there’d be more if I found it. I was thinking maybe other lords and gentlemen would pay me for finding their dogs, too. I took them so I could return them.”

“So you decided to start yourself a little business of stealing dogs,” Brent said, finding it difficult to feel sorry for the lad.

“We’re trying to get enough money to pay a doctor to come see our mum,” Emily said.

“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.”

“What?”

“I went to see Sir Randolph Gibson. I knew his father made his money in shipping, and I thought he might know some people in that business or in some way be able to help them. And it appears he did. They told me yesterday that they have leased the space they need to get their business started.”

“That is good news for them.”

He nodded. “And when your father returns, I’ll tell him any negotiating he and I had started before he left is canceled. I’ll be going back to Brentwood without you.”

Her eyes searched his. “You’re leaving London?”

“I came to see my brothers settled. I’ve done that. Anything else I planned to do in London can wait for some other time.”

Brutus made a coughing, gagging sound, and they both looked at him in time to see him slowly sink down and roll over on his side.

“Brutus!” Gabrielle exclaimed and dropped down beside him.

Brent knelt on the other side of the big dog. His breathing was labored and his eyes were closed.

“What’s wrong with him?” Gabrielle asked frantically, rubbing his neck and shoulders as the old dog struggled to breathe.

“I don’t know. He must be chilled.” Brent unbuttoned his coat and took it off, holding it over the dog like an umbrella.

“What can we do?” Gabrielle said, tears mixing with rain on her cheeks. “We’ve got to get him home and do something for him.”

“Stay calm. We will.”

Brent looked up and down the street but already knew this was not the kind of neighborhood that had cabs for hire. In fact, there were no carriages at all on the street. He would need to go several blocks over for that. But this also wasn’t the kind of neighborhood where he wanted to leave Gabrielle alone.

“I’m going to pick him up and carry him until we find a carriage.”

Gabrielle looked at him as if he were a madman. “You can’t pick him up; he’s too big.”

“Nevertheless, I will try. I’m not leaving the two of you alone on this street while I go for help.”

“Brent, you must,” she said desperately. “There’s no other way.”

“I won’t, Gabrielle,” he stated firmly and handed his coat to her.

Brent planted his feet solidly on the ground and bent at his knees. He slid his arms under Brutus’s large body and lifted.

Damnation, the dog was heavy.

The muscles in his arms burned, and his legs trembled as he struggled to stand with the dog that probably weighed as much as he did. He had to give up and settle the dog back down on the ground again.

“I’m going to help you,” Gabrielle said.

He put his hand on her arm. “No, I can manage,” he said, unwilling to doubt his strength to do so. “I need to get a better grip on him.”

Gabrielle pulled on Brent’s arm. “He’s my dog, Brent. I will help lift him and carry him to safety.”

Brent looked at her lovely, emphatic, and worried face, and knew he couldn’t deny her anything.

“All right then, on the count of three. One. Two.” In the distance, Brent heard a familiar sound and glanced behind him. Out of the foggy rain he saw Godfrey walking toward them, pulling his cart.

Brent gave a heaving sigh of relief and whispered, “That boy is about to earn his first pay.”