The Sweetest Love (Sons of Worthington Series) (27 page)

Her cheeks turned pink. “I suppose you are right.” She folded her arms. “I just came to check on you to see if you were undressed so we could take your clothes.”

“Actually, the fire is blazing well enough in here so we just draped our clothes over chairs and placed them in front of the hearth. There is no need to have Tabitha hang them up now.”

“Splendid. I shall tell her to continue helping in the kitchen.”

Diana didn’t say anymore, and neither did she move. Her gaze studied his face slowly, and soon guilt laced her eyes. She stepped closer and touched his cheek tenderly.

“Tristan, something is amiss. I can see it on your expression.” Her voice was low for their ears only. “You are worrying me by not telling me what is wrong.”

“
Shh
…” He reached out and clasped her hand with his. “I will explain, but not now. Wait until my clothes are dry first and I can dress completely before we talk.”

“I fear I cannot wait.”

“And I fear my dear,” he said with a chuckled, “that if I talk to you like this, my blanket might slip from around me and fall to the floor.” He shook his head. “What a scandal that would be, surely.”

The corner of her lips lifted into a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I do understand your dilemma.” She released a long breath. “I shall try to be patient. And while I’m waiting, would you and Lord Hawthorne like me to bring up some port for you?”

“Port?”
Nic
said from behind him in a most anxious voice. “You have port?”

Tristan wanted to laugh, but refrained.

“Yes, Lord Hawthorne,” she answered in a louder voice.

“Then we shall certainly enjoy our port, thank you Diana.” Tristan smiled.

She turned and headed back down the stairs. He watched her as long as he could until she was out of his vision. His throat tightened with emotion, yet anger flared inside him at the same time.

He closed the door and stormed to the bed before plopping down. His head pounded in frustration and all he wanted to do was shake some sense into her. Yet touching her would make him want to pull her against him, hold her tight, and taste her sweet lips.

“Do you think she knows?”
Nic
asked.

“Yes.”

“What will you tell her?”

“I shall tell her what I suspect, what I feel, and what I think we should do about Tabitha.”

Nic
walked away from the fireplace and to the window where he leaned his shoulder against the wall as he stared out into the rainy evening. “What will you do if she doesn’t agree?”

“I do not know,” Tristan answered in a whisper as he stared down at the blue and brown quilt on the bed. “As much as I love her and want to spend the rest of my life making her happy, I cannot have lies between us. I want to trust her. I…want to believe she loves me more than her maid.” He looked up at his friend. “Is that selfish to think in such a way?”

“Not at all.”
Nic
drew his finger on the windowpane.

“Why then do I feel so guilty for making her choose?”

Shrugging,
Nic
looked Tristan’s way.
“Probably because you are
forcing
her to make a decision.
Yet, if you think about it, this is something Diana should have already decided. She knows right from wrong. If she knows Tabitha killed those two lords then Diana needs to do the right thing. Because Tabitha is her friend, Diana will need encouragement…which of course is where you will help out.”

Tristan groaned and covered his hands over his face. “Why is life so difficult? Why can it not be perfect all the time?”

A chuckle came from his friend. “You are asking
me
? Sorry my good man, but I am not a man of the cloth who has all the Divine answers.”

The hilarity of
Nic’s
comment made Tristan grin and he dropped his hands.
“So true.
Out of all the professions in England, being a clergyman does not suit you, I’m afraid.”

“I agree.”
Nic
nodded. “So let’s not speak of this again for fear I will receive this calling from God as punishment for all the women I’ve wronged in my life. That is certainly something I do not want for my future.”

“The future,” Tristan muttered as a frown reclaimed his face. “What I would not give to know the future.”

“What we
all
would not give,”
Nic
said then leaned his head back against the wall. “Did you ever picture your life would be this way when you were younger?”

“No. For years I knew I would be the one brother who married for love, but now I see my other two brothers have beaten me to it. The one thing that has been driving me these past few years—since returning from the dead—
was knowing
I did
not
want to turn out like my father in any shape or form. Father died not long after I had fallen over the cliffs. He died alone and had many enemies…pretty much like Lord Hollingsworth and Elliot. Women hated them and others looked down on them.” He shook his head. “I do not want to end my life as they have.”

“Perfectly understandable.”
Nic
rubbed a hand over his arm. “Let’s pray neither of us end up in such a way.

Sighing heavily, Tristan stood and walked to the hearth to check his clothes. They weren’t as wet as before, but too damp to wear unfortunately. “At this point, I shall be happy to stay out of prison for a crime I did not commit. Proving my innocence is of utmost importance.”

Nic
folded his arms across his chest and lifted his chin. “Then starting tonight we
will
discover the truth.”

* * * *

The snap of a log breaking in the fireplace was the only sound in the dining room. Chatter around the table was kept minimal and abnormally quiet for dinner. Both Tristan and Lord Hawthorne were fully clothed and eating as if they were half starved. Diana could only pick at her food as she studied Tristan’s withdrawn expression, her spirits sinking lower and lower. Even Lord Hawthorne acted as if he was not pleased with something.

Sally had taken her meal to her room for fear the two lords would recognize her somehow, although Diana didn’t think they would. Still, she allowed the maid to hide out in her bedchamber instead of helping to serve them.

Tabitha acted as the dutiful maid and served Diana and the men, but before she could return to the kitchen to eat, Lord Hawthorne had invited her to dine with them. Even Tristan had agreed. Diana could tell the invitation had shocked Tabitha—just as it has surprised Diana. Tabitha had complied, and joined them at the table, but the conversations were kept very limited and not personal at all.

Tristan acted differently today than he had the last time he visited this cottage…or the last time they had talked before she’d left to come here. Deep in her heart, Diana knew something was wrong.
Very wrong.

Diana stared at her stew as she stirred her spoon around the carrots and potatoes, and hadn’t looked up for a few minutes to see what everyone else was doing. It wasn’t until Tristan cleared his throat when she finally lifted her gaze and met his.

“I must say, this is a very good stew.
Compliments to the cooks.”

Even though he smiled, Diana could see it was forced. Her heart clenched once again with worry.

“I agree,” Lord Hawthorne added. “It’s a shame Sally couldn’t eat with us.”

Something was definitely wrong!
Diana could not believe Lord Hawthorne would say such a thing when he knew servants did not eat with their masters. “Well, Sally has been ill lately—”

“Sally is quite shy—” Tabitha said at the same time.

Both women quickly stopped and traded glances. Tabitha’s eyes were wide and she snapped her mouth tightly.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Diana recovered as she met Tristan’s suspicious stare. “Yes, Sally is a shy girl but she has felt under the weather lately.” She glanced at Lord Hawthorne. “I thank you for inquiring about her.”

Tristan set his spoon down and using a cloth napkin he wiped his mouth before placing it on the table next to the utensil. “Lady Hollingsworth? Are you
ill
yourself?” He took a quick glance at her bowl. “I have noticed you are not eating much.”

“I’m quite fine, I assure you. I’m just not that hungry, I suppose.”

“Then can I convince you to come with me into the parlor so we can talk in private?”

Her heartbeat raced, but not in excitement.
This was it!
He was going to tell her the dire news, yet now she realized she didn’t want to hear it. If his news was going to break her heart, she would just as well not talk to him at all.

But curiosity got the best of her and she nodded. “I would be glad to accompany you, my lord.”

He stood and walked around the table to her side and offered his hand. She graciously placed her hand in his and stood, gazing deep into his eyes…eyes that had no spark of love in them as they had only a few days ago. Tears burned behind her eyes and she blinked as she tried to keep them from falling. She walked beside the man who held her heart—and would always hold her heart.

Not another word was spoken as they entered the parlor and he closed the door behind them. Keeping her hand with his, he led them to the sofa where they sat together—the same spot they’d been sitting when they had their talk after Tabitha had kidnapped him.

He turned at the waist toward her, taking both of her hands now. His thumbs gently stroked her knuckles as his attention focused on her face.

If he didn’t say something soon, she would not be able to hold back her tears. Yet he seemed content just to stare into her eyes and stroke her knuckles.

Swallowing the lump of emotion stuck in her throat, she took a deep breath for courage. “Tristan, the silence is killing me. Please say what is on your mind.”

He nodded. “I will. I’m just collecting my thoughts.”

“Tell me, have you changed your mind about me…about us being together?”

“No, I have not. Although, I fear
you
have.”

She wasn’t prepared to hear those words. She shook her head as a small throb started in her skull. “I don’t understand. Why would I change my mind?”

Tristan didn’t answer her right away, but once again he appeared deep in thought. Every second that passed made the creases on his forehead more profound. This time Diana let him think, all the while her heart raced with worry and she feared the worst. Had he found another woman to love? Was the scandal that had happened between them too much for him to bear?

Finally, after too much silence, Tristan expelled a heavy breath. “It has come to my attention that you might know the true identity of the person who killed your husband and Lord Elliot.”

All the thoughts speeding through her head came to a sudden halt and she gasped. “Pardon me? You think I know who killed my husband? Pray, enlighten me, because I can assure you, I do not know such a thing.”

The rubbing of her knuckles stopped, but he didn’t release her hands. “Diana, please be honest with me. If we are to have a relationship it must be based on trust. You
can
trust me. I am nothing like Hollingsworth, I assure you.”

Confusion filled her and she shook her head. “I fear your words are most alarming, and I know not what they mean. Indeed, you are nothing like Ludlow, and I can assure you that I trust you with my life and heart.”

“Then why do you hold the truth from the magistrate about the killer? The longer you put off telling him, the longer we have to wait until we can be together.”

She pulled a hand from his and rubbed the pound in her forehead. “Please, Tristan. Tell me what you are talking about, because you have me most confused. What am I withholding from the magistrate or from you?”

“The identity of the murderer.”

Frustration filled her and made her jittery. She stood and moved toward the fireplace. “Do you not think I would tell the magistrate if I knew? I assure you, if I knew their identity, I would say something. I want to be with you without anyone being suspicious.” Stopping, she looked over her shoulder at him. “Why do you believe I know this person’s identity?”

“Diana, I overheard you speaking with Tabitha and Sally while you were cooking. I had come down from the room and heard you outside the kitchen door. I dared not enter because I could not believe what all of you were saying.” Slowly he stood and made his way to her side. “Diana, I really think Tabitha is the one who killed your husband and my cousin.”

Shocked, a loud gasp escaped her throat before she could stop it. “Pardon me? You believe Tabitha…
my
Tabitha is a murderer?”

“Indeed, the same. Is there another Tabitha?”

Although their conversation was not comical, she couldn’t stop the laugh bubbling up from her chest. “You honestly think Tabitha killed Ludlow and Elliot? I can assure you, my lord, that you are sadly mistaken.”

“You can
assure
me? How so, may I ask?”

Her mind scrambled for a reason to give, but she couldn’t come up with one. She just
knew
her friend—a friend she had known for years and considered a sister—could not have done such a thing.