The Sweetest Love (Sons of Worthington Series) (10 page)

Trevor laughed.
“My brother—always the romantic.”
He flipped his hand. “Then go ask for her hand before she fears you have abandoned her. I heard she and her mother quietly returned home early this morning.”

Tristan swung toward his brother. “They are gone?”

“Yes.”

“They can’t be. Diana told me yesterday she and her mother was planning on staying all day.”

Trevor shrugged. “Well, apparently something changed the baroness’ mind, because Mother told me that they had left.”

Growling, Tristan pushed his fingers through his hair. “I need to find out where she lives. She never really told me.”

“Then, I suggest you be on your gallant way and rescue the damsel in distress.”

“Will you let our parents know where I’m going?”

“Of course.”

Tristan spun around and rushed out of the room. When he saw the butler, he instructed him to alert the groomsman that he needed his horse saddled and ready posthaste. He ran back to his room to grab his jacket and riding crop, and then dashed back down the stairs and outside. Within fifteen minutes, he was atop his horse and riding toward Bristol
.

Excitement built in his chest with the thought of seeing Diana again. She wouldn’t discourage the idea of them marrying. The dreamy haze of her eyes when she stared at him, along with the way her mouth moved so seductively with his, let him know she was just as attracted to him as he was to her.

He rode his horse hard and fast, and soon he neared Bristol
.
The first person he asked when enquiring about the Baldwin’s residence gave him directions. The manor wasn’t as large as he’d seen before, and the place looked quite run down. It appeared that Lord Baldwin was having money problems. Tristan grinned. He would help his soon-to-be father-in-law out to help him repair this place.

Before Tristan rode too close to the front of the house, he dismounted, and walked slowly, eyeing the surroundings as he pulled his horse behind by the reins. From the back of the house, a woman strolled toward the rundown stable. Immediately, Tristan could tell it was Diana. Today she wore a copper colored dress trimmed with black lace, and on her hands were black gloves. Her bonnet was copper, but thankfully didn’t hide her pretty auburn ringlets.

His heart beat faster and he quickened his stride to reach her. As he came to the front of the stable, he noticed her standing just inside, stroking her hand down the mare’s nose. Her back was toward him, and her shoulders drooped.

“Oh, Chestnut,” she said softly. “What am I going to do?” Her voice broke and she leaned her face against the mare’s neck.

Tristan’s heart clenched. He couldn’t stand to hear her desolate tone. “Not to worry, my sweet. I’ll make it right.”

She jumped and swung around. Her eyes widened and within moment, color entered her face.
“Tristan!
What are you doing here?”

“I have come to rescue the fair maiden.” He chuckled. “Actually, since you left without saying anything to me, I knew I must come find you.”

She sighed heavily. “I apologize for our hasty departure, but my mother received a letter from my father who wanted us home immediately. I fear his news was dreadful.”

He arched an eyebrow. “What news? Has he fallen ill?”

“Oh, Tristan.”
Tears spiked her eyelashes. “My father has signed a betrothal agreement.”

Sadness—and panic—weighed heavily on his chest. Groaning, he scrubbed his palms over his face. He had to stop this. He couldn’t let her marry anyone but him!

He stepped closer and touched her hand. “Who is the man?”

“Viscount Hollingsworth.”

The man’s evil face flashed through Tristan’s mind.
Impossible! She couldn’t possibly marry that vile man.
“You must be jesting. Hollingsworth is a deceitful, selfish man. Why would any father torture their daughter in such a way by allowing them to marry Hollingsworth?”

“I wish I knew, Tristan. I tried to sway my father this morning, but he will not relent.”

Tristan hitched a breath. Anger and frustration sailed through him, making him want to lash out at someone—Hollingsworth in particular since he was the root of Tristan’s turmoil right now. “That is utterly ridiculous! There must be a way to change your father’s mind.”

“My father wants us to wed within two weeks.”

Suffocation choked Tristan. Hollingsworth couldn’t have Diana—not when Tristan wanted her! Tristan took her hands in his. “Diana, I came here to ask if you would be my wife.”

Tears slid down her cheeks and her bottom lip trembled. “If Hollingsworth wasn’t in my life right now, I would happily accept.” Her voice broke as more tears fell from her eyes.

“Surely, your father will listen to me. I am wealthier than Hollingsworth. I’m certain I could sway your father.”

She shook her head. “I pray you can, but I fear the viscount is holding something over my father and is trying to swindle him in some way.”

Cursing silently, Tristan pulled her in his arms. She clung to him like she never wanted to let him go. He felt the same helplessness and pulled her tighter in his embrace. She sobbed against his chest, which broke his heart that much more.

He kissed her ear and whispered, “Diana, you must trust me. I will fix things. Lord Hollingsworth will
not
marry you!”

Chapter Seven

Tristan had never felt this desperate before. All he knew was that it would kill him if he couldn’t stop Diana from marrying Lord Hollingsworth.

He glanced toward her house. “Diana, please allow me to talk to your father. I will do all I can do to get him to change his mind.”

She licked her lips and nodded. “Come. I shall take you to him. Let me warn you that he is a very stubborn man.”

Tristan arched an eyebrow. “Then I should be able to understand him well since my brothers are also very stubborn.”

He followed Diana into her house as she led him to the sitting room. It was obvious by the worn furniture, faded curtains and rugs that the
Baldwins
were in desperate needs of funds. Perhaps this was the key to getting Lord Baldwin to change his mind. Tristan could assist, and would gladly help as long as the lord gave Tristan his daughter’s hand in marriage.

She squeezed his hands. “Stay here and I will fetch my father.” She remained standing in front of him as her desperate gaze slowly moved over his face. “Tristan, I wish you luck. I shall pray you will know the words to convince my father to break the betrothal agreement.”

“I will pray as well.”

Releasing his hands, she turned and hurried out of the room.

Nervousness eased its way in Tristan’s stomach. He flexed his hands, trying to think of the right words to say.
This must work!

Never in his life had he imagined being in such a predicament. Although he figured he would marry for love one day, he had never imagined how much he would have to struggle just to keep that dream alive. Shouldn’t this have just fallen perfectly into place?

After several long and agonizing minutes ticked by, footsteps thudded on the floor in the corridor, growing louder as they neared the room. Taking a deep breath, Tristan said a silent prayer that all would work out, and by the end of the day he and Diana would be engaged.

Diana walked in the room with her father. Lord Baldwin was a stout man, and not as tall as Tristan. A frown etched his expression and bushy auburn eyebrows were pulled together over a narrowed gaze.

Tristan gulped. Already things were not looking good.

“Father, allow me to introduce Lord Tristan Worthington.” She met Tristan’s eyes. “My lord, this is my father, Baron Baldwin.”

Tristan nodded.
“My lord.”

The other man grumbled the same response.

Hope that Tristan had tried to keep in his heart began to sink. Fast. Regardless of the panic encasing him, he smiled his best at the other man. “Lord Baldwin, I am very happy to finally meet the man whose daughter has captured my interest.” He took another breath, wondering why his heartbeat seemed to be running a race with his words. “The past few days at my mother’s party, I had the privilege of meeting your daughter. I found her such a delight and—”

“You are too late, Lord Tristan,” Baldwin barked. “She has been betrothed to the Viscount Hollingsworth.”

Tristan gulped and quickly cleared his throat. “Your daughter has already explained this to me. However, I am here to see if I can convince you otherwise.” He switched his focus to Diana, who bunched her hands at her side, appearing as nervous as Tristan felt. “Miss Baldwin and I have gotten to know each other, and I would very much like to marry her.”

She smiled at him, but her lips quivered.

Tristan looked back at Baldwin. “I understand you have signed a contract with Hollingsworth, but—”

“Please, Lord Tristan,” Baldwin grunted. “Do not make this any more difficult than it already is. The subject is closed. My daughter
will
wed Lord Hollingsworth.”

Irritation expanded inside Tristan’s chest and he wanted to shake Diana’s father senseless. But he must remain calm. “My lord, if it’s money you seek, I can assure you I’m quite wealthy—”

“Please, no more.” Baldwin stepped closer to Tristan. Moisture glistened in the man’s eyes as a different expression crossed his face. It appeared as if the man was silently pleading for help. “Lord Tristan, there is nothing I can do. However, if you can convince Lord Hollingsworth to break the contract, I will happily give you and Diana my blessings.”

Something wasn’t right here. Confusion swam in Tristan’s head as he recalled Diana mentioning that Hollingsworth had some kind of hold over her father. Indeed, that must be the case because usually the father of the bride could break the marriage contract, yet Baldwin was reluctant to do so.

Tristan nodded. “That’s what I’ll do.” He bowed. “Good day, my lord.” He glanced at Diana and tried his best to give her a reassuring smile. “I
will
see you later with good news.”

She brought her clutched hands to her chest and nodded. “I pray you will.”

Instead of waiting to be shown out, Tristan hurried out of the house and to his horse, determined to find Hollingsworth and convince him to release Diana’s father.

Although Tristan didn’t know the viscount well, he knew that the man loved playing the gaming tables...and loved cheating people. Tristan would find that man even if he had to search all over England.

Thankfully, he found Hollingsworth at the second place Tristan looked. It helped that he knew people and had good connections.

When Tristan approached the table, a few of the other lords nodded greetings to him and motioned for him to join them. Hollingsworth glared, but didn’t rebut the invitation. It shouldn’t surprise Tristan that his younger brother, Trey, was here. That particular brother loved living up to his corrupted reputation.

After a few hands—and a few cups of port—Tristan relaxed and tried to get into the game although his mind scrambled to think of a way he could talk Hollingsworth out of marrying Diana.

Tristan laid down his winning hand and grinned.

Lord Harris shook his head. “I should have known Lord Tristan would take my money. It never fails when I play with a Worthington.”

“Lord Tristan,” Hollingsworth said, aiming his glare at him, “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were cheating this evening.”

The others in the room hushed as their hands stilled. Tristan had played cards with Hollingsworth several times before, and should be used to his sour attitude by now. Although Tristan should call the bugger out, he wouldn’t…yet. “Then it’s a good thing you know me, isn’t it?”

Grumbling, Hollingsworth swiped his fingers through his bright red hair that in spots had started to turn white. “Indeed, it’s most fortunate I know you.”

The other men at the table relaxed, but Tristan couldn’t let the subject rest. He took another swig of his port before adding, “And it’s a good thing you are into your cups a little heavy tonight, or I just might feel the need to call you out.”

A few men gasped, but Tristan only heard the person sitting on his right. Slowly, he turned his gaze to Trey. The wide blue eyes of his brother were dark with anger, and silently he issued a warning. Trey had always been like that—thinking he needed to protect Tristan against men who were very much like the youngest Worthington brother. Tristan gave Trey a nonchalant shrug and returned his attention to Hollingsworth whose face was flushed.

“Shall we continue playing?” Tristan asked.

The others around the table chimed in with a positive response. Throughout the game, Hollingsworth continued to throw visual daggers toward Tristan, which he did his best to ignore. The fop had always been a bad sport while playing cards, and if Tristan didn’t enjoy taking the lord’s money so much, he would refuse to play with him most of the time.

Finally, Hollingsworth bowed out, gathered up the little winnings he had kept, and stormed out of the room. The other gents followed suit. Tristan stood, and so did his brother.

Trey reached his arms above his head as if he were stretching out kinks. “Well, Brother. I believe I shall retire as well.” He clapped his hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “But I’m happy to see you have won big this evening, and once again, brought with your company a bit of entertainment.”