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The Sweetest Love (Sons of Worthington Series)

Page 13

by Higgins, Marie


  “I will be nearby to protect you. I do wish we could live in this cottage forever. It’s the perfect escape from society.”

  “That, it is.”

  “Perhaps we can meet here again in a couple of weeks?” He waggled his eyebrows.

  She laughed and nodded. “I think that’s a splendid idea.”

  Slowly, he traced his fingers over her beautiful face, over her creamy skin, her eyebrows, cheek bones, and down to her tempting lips. “I want to thank you for kidnapping me.”

  “You forget it was Tabitha who did the deed.”

  “True, but she would not have done it if she hadn’t have loved you so much. You are why she did what she did, which was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  “I’m so very relieved everything turned out the right way this time. You cannot imagine the relief flowing through me at this moment.”

  Tristan arched an eyebrow. “You don’t think I can imagine it? I assure you, I can relate perfectly.”

  He dropped his lips to hers. The kiss was so very gentle, and yet passionate as it stirred emotions in him he thought he’d lost years ago. The newfound feeling thrilled him completely and gave him hope for a better future…with her.

  Reluctantly, he pulled away. Kissing her was so perfect he never wanted to stop. “My sweet Diana, I must leave now.”

  “I know.”

  “Promise we will see each other tomorrow.”

  She nodded. “I assure you, we will even if I have to pay you a visit just to make an excuse to be in the same room with you.”

  “You will always be welcome at my home.” He kissed her mouth one last time then stepped out of her arms. “Do you have an extra horse for me?”

  “I do. Take the black stallion.”

  “Until later, my sweet Diana.” He bowed, turned, and quit the room.

  It didn’t take him long to get himself ready, saddle the horse, and leave. Diana and Tabitha stepped outside to see him off. Both women waved until he couldn’t see them any longer.

  He wasn’t familiar with this part of England, but he knew the direction of Mayfair, so he rode hard searching for anything familiar that would let him know he traveled the right way.

  A few hours later, he was home. Already he missed Diana and wanted to return to her grandmother’s cottage. But he must remember he had other responsibilities first. Business first…play later.

  He rode to the stable and dismounted. The stable boy rushed out, his eyes wide with surprise.

  “Lord Tristan! You have returned.”

  “Indeed, I have.” He ruffled the boy’s hair. “Is her ladyship still here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I shall go straightway to see her.”

  He hurried into the house. As he passed a few young maids, they stopped whatever they were doing and stared agape at him. First he went to his mother’s favorite sitting room, and when she wasn’t there, he took the grand staircase two steps at a time, heading to her chambers. He opened the door and peeked inside. She sat in a cushioned chair by the window as she stared down at her flower garden, her expression laced with sadness. He’d only been gone a few days, but it seemed her hair held more gray streaks, and several new wrinkles marred her complexion.

  Slowly, her head turned toward him. A gasp sprang from her as she clutched her hands to her chest, tears filling her eyes quickly. “Tristan? Is that really you?”

  “Yes, Mother.” His wide strides ate up the distance between them until he knelt by her chair and hugged her. “I’m back now.”

  “Ohhh,” she sobbed and clung to him. “I was so distraught. Nobody knew what happened to you or why you would not come to your own wedding.”

  “Forgive me for not saying anything sooner.”

  She withdrew and looked at him with confusion in her gaze. “Where were you? I heard you were kidnapped.”

  “You did?” He arched an eyebrow. “Pray, who would say such a thing?”

  “Nobody knew for certain, but there was a man who’d come forth. Apparently, you’d been drinking with him the night before the wedding. He saw you climb into a carriage before someone chained the door closed and hastily rode off.”

  So someone had noticed… “It’s nothing to worry about, Mother.” He kissed her cheek. “I’m back now, and I’ll set things right.”

  She swept her hand over his face and hair, then down to his shoulder and arm. “You appear healthy.”

  “I am just fine, I assure you.”

  “Were you kidnapped?”

  “Yes and no.” He shook his head. “It’s a long story, but everything is as it’s supposed to be.”

  A smile trembled on her mouth. “Thank the Lord.” She wiped her moist eyes. “Have you heard the terrible news about your cousin?”

  “Yes, Mother.” He frowned. “I heard Elliot had been killed.”

  “It’s such a tragedy, and my heart goes out to my brother and his family. I know how it feels to lose a child.” She patted his cheek. “But I’m also worried about you. I heard you and Elliot had an argument the other night, and I fear the magistrate will suspect you just as he suspects you of Lord Hollingsworth’s death.”

  “Cease your worries. I have witnesses who will say I was nowhere near my cousin’s home last night.”

  She sighed heavily. “Thank heavens.” She dropped her hand from his check. “Have you spoken to Lady Fairbourne or her father yet? They are beside themselves with worry. Her father even sent out riders to find you.”

  “No, I have not seen them yet. I came here first.” He glanced down at his wrinkled clothes. “However, I need a bath and to change before I pay them a visit.”

  She nodded. “You do that and I shall send notes to your brothers to inform them of your return.” Sighing, she cupped his face. “I’m just so relieved you are home safe.”

  “As am I.”

  He kissed her cheek again, stood, then headed for his room. A nice warm bath, clean clothes, and a chipper spirit would get him through the rest of the day as he completed his duties. Jane and her father would be quite upset with Tristan, but he didn’t care. All that was important to him was seeing Diana again.

  It didn’t take long to make himself presentable, and he left the house. During the ride to Lady Fairbourne’s townhouse, Tristan rolled his thoughts around, trying to come up with the best way to tell her he didn’t want to get married. Naturally she’d be upset—as her father—but Tristan would try to soothe their emotions as well as he possibly could.

  He reached their place sooner than he wanted, and after giving his card to the butler was shown to the sitting room. Since the door was left open, the servants’ whispers came from the corridor. Tristan couldn’t quite tell if they were excited whispers, or panicked.

  Time seemed to crawl, but soon heavy footsteps boomed on the floor in the hall. The square frame of Viscount Hastings came through the doorway first, followed by his wife and Jane. Tristan was relieved that they were all together and that he didn’t have to travel to the Hastings’ townhouse as well.

  It was impossible not to notice the scowl the viscount threw at Tristan, but both women kept their eyes lowered. The women sat, but the viscount stood with his arms folded across his chest. Although Tristan was taller than the other man, the viscount came across as the authority figure.

  “Worthington, I am in a foul mood, so say what you need to quickly,” Hastings barked.

  Tristan nodded. In any event, he hadn’t planned on being here that long. “I am very relieved to see you and your wife here with Lady Fairbourne. I have come to speak with you all about what happened yesterday.”

  “Do you mean what didn’t happen at the church?”

  “Yes, sir. That’s exactly what I meant.” Tristan stole a glance at Jane who snuck a peek at him before lowering her gaze again.

  “Well go on,” Viscount Hastings urged.

  “Because of circumstances I could not control, I was unable to attend the ceremony.”

  “We
heard you were kidnapped.” The viscount eyed Tristan carefully.

  “I was.”

  “How did you get away?”

  “I was released.” Tristan sliced his hand through the air. “I won’t go into detail, but during those hours I was tied up in a chair, I pondered my life and realized that marrying Lady Fairbourne would have been a terrible mistake.”

  Jane and her mother gasped. They both swung their focus to him.

  “What are you saying?” Jane questioned softly.

  He turned to her. “Lady Fairbourne, forgive me for putting you through this. I should not have asked for your hand in marriage.”

  “How do you know I would not have been happy?” Her voice cracked with anger.

  “Because my parents were never happy in their arranged marriage, and I don’t wish that torture on anyone.”

  Viscount Hastings stomped in front of Tristan again. “Do you think your apologies will help now? You are dragging my daughter into scandal.”

  “Then tell everyone you broke the betrothal. Then only my reputation will be damaged.”

  Tears flooded Jane’s eyes, all the while scowling at Tristan.

  “And pray, Lord Tristan,” she said in a tight voice, “what would be my reasons for wanting to call off the wedding?”

  “It doesn’t matter what reasons you give. Whatever it is, I will go along with it.”

  “But I don’t want to give any at all. I still want to marry you.”

  “No, Jane. I shall not enter a marriage unless love is part of the deal…and I am not, nor have I ever been, in love with you.”

  Her bottom lip trembled as more tears streamed down her face. She turned to her mother and sobbed against the older woman’s chest while she soothed her daughter.

  Huffing, the viscount stepped closer to Tristan. The other man’s expression was deadly. His eye would shoot out venom any moment now, Tristan was certain.

  “I warned you before that if you ever hurt my daughter—”

  “Don’t you understand?” Tristan asked, raising his voice. “I’m saving your daughter from a lifetime of unhappiness. Marrying me will make her miserable.”

  “All of this is because of Lady Hollingsworth, isn’t it?” Jane shouted, pulling herself away from her mother and stomping up to Tristan.

  “Pardon me?” he asked in panic. How did she know Diana was involved?

  “You don’t want to marry me because of Lady Hollingsworth.”

  “What does she have to do with any of this?” Tristan wouldn’t give Jane the satisfaction of knowing the truth.

  “I heard you were with her the past couple of days.”

  What on earth… That was impossible. Nobody would have known that information, especially when Tabitha was the one who kidnapped him! “I believe you have heard wrongly, then.”

  The older man’s face reddened even more as he pushed his finger into Tristan’s chest. “If you don’t marry my daughter, you will be the one miserable. I’ll personally see to it, Lord Tristan.”

  Tristan shrugged. “Do your worst. I will not change my mind.”

  He turned back to the women, bowed, then walked past them and out the door. The viscount’s threat didn’t worry him in the least. Tristan knew the man over-reacted. Jane would find another willing soul very soon, he was certain.

  As he mounted his horse, he breathed a sigh of relief. One obstacle down, others to hurtle…but they would be easy, he was certain.

  * * * *

  Diana’s coach stopped in front of her home. Ludlow’s home, she reminded herself. This grand estate would never be hers, and really she didn’t want it even if she had that option. There were too many bad memories here. Evil lurked in every corner, and she still had nightmares that her husband’s spirit would haunt her.

  She turned to Tabitha who sat next to her and patted her maid’s hand. “I hesitate to bring you in as my new maid. Ludlow’s servants were very loyal to him since they’d been with the Hollingsworth family for years—although I don’t know why—and they all hate me. I fear they will not like you because we are friends.”

  Tabitha shrugged. “Then we shall spend more time together, won’t we?” She smiled. “I don’t have a lot of friends, so I’ll be fine. We shall get through this together.”

  “Yes, we shall. I pray our time here will not be long. The only reason I’m here is to be closer to Tristan.”

  Tabitha tightened the bows of her bonnet underneath her chin. “Do you anticipate him asking for your hand?” She winked.

  Excitement rushed through Diana even though she shouldn’t feel this way. Just because they had talked about their past and he had kissed her so tenderly and passionately, didn’t mean he would propose. As much as she wanted him to, she still feared that when he discovered she was barren, he wouldn’t want her for a wife after all. Ludlow had wanted children, but she had never conceived, and he blamed her for not giving him an heir.

  “Right now,” Diana said, “I don’t want to push Lord Tristan to do anything he does not want to do.”

  “Oh, he’s sweet on you, my lady. He still has feelings for you, I can tell.”

  The footman opened the coach door and Diana climbed down first. Once Tabitha was out, she pointed to the trunks on the back, directing her gaze on him.

  “Take Lady Hollingsworth’s trunks to her room.”

  The middle-aged man glared at Tabitha, then switched his focus to Diana. She nodded. “Yes, Curtis. Do as Tabitha has instructed. She is now my personal maid.”

  His eyes widened. “But what will become of Martha Whitehead?”

  “I’m certain we can find some other area for her to work on the estate. In fact, I believe she would make a wonderful housekeeper since Mrs. Newton has been very ill lately and is much too old to handle the manor by herself.” Diana turned and headed toward the front door, keeping her chin up and back straight. She couldn’t allow these servants to make her cower in any way. She was still the mistress of the manor until Ludlow’s cousin, Mr. Tobias Lusk, came to claim it.

  Entering the manor, she glanced over her shoulder at Tabitha who followed closely behind. Diana was grateful she would at least have a friend in this place, but she still feared someone would know Tabitha had worked for Lord Elliot. Diana could only pray that wouldn’t happen because she did need an ally here, if even for a little while. It would make staying here that much more bearable.

  “Oh my,” Tabitha whispered in awe. “Your husband had some lovely things.”

  Diana rolled her eyes. Slowing her steps, she waited for Tabitha to come closer. “Indeed, he did. He enjoyed showing off his wealth, and he treated these paintings, vases, and rugs better than he did his wife,” she ended lowering her voice.

  “When will his cousin arrive to take over?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Mr. Lusk has been notified of Ludlow’s passing, but I have yet to hear when he will arrive.”

  The maid stopped, her gaze darting around the hall slower this time. “Perhaps we should sneak some expensive items out for you before he comes,” she whispered. “After all, you have to live, too.”

  Tabitha’s comment caught Diana by surprise, and she laughed. “Oh, Tabitha. Believe me that thought has crossed my mind several times, but I talked myself out of it. Once I leave this place, I don’t want anything to remind me of Ludlow.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  From the kitchen, the staunch cook, Mrs. Jennings, walked out, her narrow gaze trained right for Diana. She gulped, not liking the way the older woman looked at her. Collecting her courage, Diana squared her shoulders and waited to see what the servant wanted.

  “My lady,” Mrs. Jennings said sternly, “I was not told you would be returning this soon.”

  Diana arched an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”

  “Well, not entirely. But yesterday you had visitors. Mr. Phillips told them we didn’t know when you would return.”

  Diana shrugged. “I suppose if it were importan
t to see me, they will return. Did they leave any kind of message with the butler?”

  “No, Mr. Phillips did not have a message.”

  “Who was it that came?” Diana wondered.

  The cook narrowed her gaze and lifted a haughty chin. “Mr. Phillips said that the magistrate and some of his men were the ones inquiring after you, my lady. The magistrate has some questions to ask you about Lord Elliot’s death.”

  Diana’s heart dropped as fear ran rapid through her blood. The hint of brightness in her future quickly faded.

  Chapter Twelve

  Heavy clouds filled the night sky, making the evening appear darker than normal as Tristan walked to the men’s club where he and his brother, Trey, visited frequently. Although Trey would probably not be here, he enjoyed more spending time at home with his wife. Their good friend, Dominic, Marquis of Hawthorne, would probably be playing some card game…and winning. Tristan almost hoped to see his brother, Trey tonight. It would be easier to explain what was going on if both Trey and Nic were in the same room.

  He hurried inside and gave his overcoat and top hat to the footman. Tristan strolled into the main room in search of his brother. Most of the tables were surrounded by men drinking and visiting. At first nobody looked at him, which suited Tristan just fine. Finally, one gent sitting at the closest table met Tristan’s eyes. The man gasped and nearly spilled his drink as it fell from his fingers.

  “Lord Tristan.”

  The trickle effect was rather astonishing. Once Tristan’s name was spoken, gasps exploded around the room—his name on most everyone’s tongue. Soon whispers overrode the gasps until the room buzzed with Lord Tristan. Surprised faces stared dumbstruck at him as if he’d risen from the grave. This expression was very familiar to Tristan since many had looked that way when he returned from the dead not too long ago.

  He inclined his head briefly, but didn’t say anything. As another footman walked by carrying empty wine glasses, Tristan said, “Excuse me, but can you tell me if Lord Trey and Lord Hawthorne are here?”

 

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