The Sweetest Love (Sons of Worthington Series)

by Higgins, Marie

  “Yes, my lord. They are in the blue room.”

  “I thank you.” Relieved to hear his brother was here as well as their mutual friend, Tristan flipped a gold coin to the man before hurrying in that direction.

  When he entered the parlor, his younger brother and Dominic were in conversation with two other gentlemen. Each man held a glass of wine. Tristan found it odd that they all wore the same, sour expressions.

  When Tristan stepped further into the room, the floor boards groaned beneath his feet. Trey was the first one to snap his attention in Tristan’s direction. His brother gasped, then sprang from his chair. The piece of furniture tipped over behind him and fell to the floor in a loud crash.

  This sparked the other men into spinning around to look at Tristan. Their jaws dropped as shock registered on their wide-eyed expressions.

  “Tristan!” Trey wrapped Tristan in a hug. When Trey pulled away, he glared through hooded eyes. “Where in the blazes have you been these past few days?”

  Forcing himself to chuckle, Tristan walked to the table. It touched him to know his brother cared so much. Dominic jumped to his feet and shook Tristan’s hand heartily.

  “Thank the Lord you are back safe, my good man. Please tell us what happened. There was so much gossip we didn’t know what to believe.”

  “Forgive me for worrying you all.” Tristan glanced at the other two men and nodded. “Lord Gilbert. Lord Caldwell.”

  The men stood and shook Tristan’s hand.

  “I see you are not playing cards.” Tristan motioned to the table. “It’s not often I see Trey and Hawthorne in the same room without cards in their hands and a stack of bills in front of them.”

  “Tristan,” Trey said with irritation in his voice. “Quit skirting around the question. Where were you?”

  “We heard you had been kidnapped,” Caldwell said.

  “Indeed I was, Caldwell.” Tristan sat then the other men followed as they gathered around the table. He studied Gilbert and Caldwell. The older men were friends of Hawthorne’s family and had been kind to Tristan’s mother. At times he wondered if these men were interested in her, yet they never let their feelings show. Tristan really didn’t know if he trusted them enough to tell them what truly happened.

  Clearing his throat, he drummed his fingers on the table. “I was kidnapped by a woman who thought to exact revenge when I had nearly ruined her reputation a few years back.”

  All eyes widened in disbelief. Seconds later, Dominic snorted a laugh and Trey shook his head.

  “You must be joking,” Trey muttered.

  “I’m gravely serious, dear brother.”

  “How did you escape?” Hawthorne asked with a smirk on his mouth.

  Tristan wagged his brows. “I charmed my way out if you must know.”

  He waited for their reaction, but it didn’t happen as quickly as he figured it should. But within moments, they all barked with laughter. Grinning, Tristan relaxed in his chair.

  “Who is the lady?” Gilbert asked.

  Tristan held up his hand and shook his head. “I have already ruined her reputation enough. I shan’t do any more damage.”

  Caldwell arched a thick, white eyebrow. “I see you escaped unscathed.”

  “Indeed, I did.”

  Trey released a heavy sigh. Sitting back in his chair, he linked his fingers together and rested them on his mid-section. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I fear you have returned home at the most unfortunate time.”

  Studying his younger brother, Tristan tapped his finger on the table. The sour look was back upon Trey’s face—just as it had been when Tristan first walked into the room. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because there has been another death—our cousin, Elliot. His life ended pretty much the way Hollingsworth had.”

  Tristan gave his brother a blank stare. “And pray tell, what does this have to do with me?”

  “Have you forgotten? You are still one of the magistrate’s suspects for Hollingsworth’s murder.”

  “So.” Tristan shrugged.

  Dominic leaned toward Tristan and shook his head. “The suspicion has grown now that Lord Elliot has been killed. Several witnesses reported to the magistrate that they saw you and Elliot arguing a couple of nights before he was murdered.”

  Shaking his head, Tristan scratched his head. “But you were there, Hawthorne. You had to take me home from the card game because I was foxed. You know the argument didn’t mean anything.”

  Dominic nodded. “And I have already told the magistrate this, but because you disappeared the night before your wedding and nobody knew where you were, you are still a suspect.”

  “Lord Tristan,” Lord Gilbert spoke. “My cousin is one of the men working with the magistrate on this case. He informed me that your name is high on the suspects list. Unlike Hollingsworth, Lord Elliot didn’t have that many enemies, but because you are linked to both men, the magistrate is going to start searching for more clues. Since your so-called kidnapping happened a day before the killing, that makes the magistrate more suspicious.”

  “What?” Tristan jumped out of his chair, standing above the other men. “My so-called kidnapping, you say? Indeed I was kidnapped. I didn’t plan that…and I certainly didn’t have any reason to kill Lord Elliot.”

  Lord Gilbert nodded. “I believe you about the kidnapping, but the magistrate will want to know who you have been with these past few days.”

  “I was with the lady who kidnapped me.”

  “Are you willing to give them her name?” Gilbert tilted his head, his eyes narrowing with distress.

  Tristan scowled. “Of course I won’t give them her name. As I’d mentioned before, I shan’t cause scandal to her again.”

  Trey grasped Tristan’s arm and glared into his eyes. “By not giving them the information they seek, that might be the very reason you’d get arrested.”

  Confusion swam in Tristan’s mind. He understood the dilemma, but… No, he couldn’t ruin Diana any more than he had already. “Then that’s a chance I’ll have to take.”

  “You are willing to be arrested for a crime you did not commit?” Trey’s voice lifted in irritation.

  Tristan nodded. “If that’s what it takes, yes. I can only pray the magistrate will seek to find proof before they have a trial, because I can assure you, they will not find any.”

  Gilbert scrubbed his jaw. “I wished the higher courts believed in such a thing.”

  Across the table, Dominic released a ragged sigh and ran his fingers through his hair.

  Trey groaned, rubbing his forehead and met Tristan’s stare. “Then we need to have our older brother, Trevor, hire that well-known solicitor after all because I fear you will need him soon.”

  Dread squeezed Tristan’s heart. Sadly, he knew his brother was correct this time.

  * * * *

  The next day, Diana sat as still as she could on her cushioned chair and waited for the butler to bring in her unwelcome guests—the magistrate and one of his men. Not more than five minutes ago, she had watched from the window as their coach rolled to a stop in the front of the house. Fear leapt to her throat and stung her eyes. She couldn’t tell them the truth about the night Lord Elliot had been killed. Good heavens, they would think she had done the deed for certain.

  Although she maintained a calm outward appearance, her heartbeat flipped with anxiety, and her palms were moist. Inhaling deeply, she realized her breathing had been altered, as well. Would they notice she was trying to hide something?

  Slowly, she slid her palms on her dress to dry the wetness gathered, as she listened for their footsteps to sound on the floor in the corridor. The longer she waited, her stomach churned, and she wanted to scream with frustration.

  Why would they suspect her murdering Lord Elliot? True, she had been there that night she’d rescued Sally, but the girl had met her out by the servant’s door. Diana hadn’t even gone inside the manor, and she especially had not been spotted by any o
f the nobleman’s other servants since they were supposed to have been all in bed asleep. Not that Diana checked on every one, but she knew her servants—or Ludlow’s—would have been asleep at that time during the night.

  Finally, the sound she’d been waiting for came when several footsteps clamored on the floor. Taking another deep breath, she turned her eyes toward the doorway just as her butler showed them in.

  The magistrate looked as if he were attending a social gathering, wearing a top hat, and his black coat stretched across his portly belly, and his black breeches looked just as snug. The man along with him wore a uniform—black jacket with golden buttons up the front and on the cuffs—and a black top hat and matching shiny boots. They entered the sitting room and then simultaneously removed their hats and bowed to her.

  She nodded then motioned to the sofas. “Gentlemen, would you care to sit?”

  “I thank you, Lady Hollingsworth,” Sir Felix said and moved to the piece of furniture as the other followed. “I hope you forgive our intrusion, but we have some questions to ask you about Lord Elliot’s murder.”

  “There is nothing to forgive. I will answer any question you have for me.”

  The other man gave her a smile, although Diana could see it was forced. Still, she regarded them with as much kindness and politeness as she could muster.

  “How well did you know Lord Elliot Henson?” the magistrate asked.

  She shrugged and folded her hands in her lap, hoping to stop the quakes threatening to become noticeable in her limbs. “Actually, I don’t know him well at all.”

  “I believe he was acquainted with your late husband,” the other man said.

  “He very well could have been,” she answered. “My husband had many friends, but that doesn’t mean I associated with them.”

  “So are you saying you have never spoken to Lord Elliot?” the magistrate probed.

  Diana shook her head. “I didn’t say that. You asked me how well I knew him, and I told you I didn’t know him well.” Perhaps she shouldn’t have said it like that, but the two men irritated her more as the seconds passed.

  Sir Felix scowled. “Pardon me then, my lady. Let me rephrase my question.” He swallowed hard. “Have you ever talked to Lord Elliot?”

  “A few times, yes.”

  The two men traded glances before the man with the thinning black hair straightened and looked at her. “Did you discuss anything personal?”

  “Tell me sir, how could I discuss anything personal with a man I didn’t even know well?”

  “Lady Hollingsworth.” The second man’s voice nearly growled with malice. “One of his servants overheard you threatening Lord Elliot approximately two weeks ago.”

  Diana’s blood turned cold as fear sliced through her. She couldn’t believe someone had heard that conversation. “Tell me sir, did this servant tell you that I threatened his life? I can assure you I did not.”

  “Then tell us what you said,” the magistrate said.

  Trying not to show how rattled she was, she inhaled slowly and exhaled softly. “I had attended a gathering at his manor with a friend of mine, Lady Dashwood. I happened upon Lord Elliot and one of his maids during the event. They were in a room, and as I walked by I heard him yelling at someone. When I looked in the parlor, I saw him slap the woman across the face not once, but several times. Fear was evident in her eyes and the terror in her voice was unmistakable. I cannot bear to see anyone abused, so I snapped at Lord Elliot and reprimanded him for treating the poor girl in such a way—at a social gathering, no less.” She took a deep breath and lifted her chin in defiance. “But not once did I threaten his life, even when he replied with some cruel words toward me.”

  The magistrate crossed his arms over his round belly and tapped his finger against his elbow. “Lady Hollingsworth, where were you last night?”

  “I have been staying at my grandmother’s cottage near Greenford for the past two weeks. One of my maids was with me, and Lady Dashwood visited me twice when I was there. I have only returned home this afternoon.”

  “Lady Hollingsworth?” the second man asked. “Are you aware that Lord Elliot was killed in the same manner as your late husband?”

  She nodded. “Lady Dashwood told me, but if you must know, it’s hard for me to credit.”

  “Why is that so?”

  “Because I cannot imagine there is someone going around murdering gentlemen in such a way. It’s very frightening.”

  Sir Felix nodded. “Indeed, it is. Lady Hollingsworth,” he continued without hesitating, “how close are you to Lord Tristan?”

  Fear clutched her throat, and she held her breath. How could she answer that question? Good heavens! She forced herself to laugh lightly. “Oh, I’m quite certain you already know the answer to that. If you have lived around these parts in the past few years, I’m sure you have heard about the scandal that happened between Lord Tristan and myself.”

  Both men nodded, but it was the magistrate who continued his questions. “That is the very reason I ask, my lady. As you are probably aware, Lord Tristan is also a suspect.”

  “Yes, I heard the rumor.”

  “Well, we are now wondering if the two killings are connected…that maybe there is more than one person involved.”

  She didn’t like the sound of that. “Pray, please cease confusing me in such a manner. What has this got to do with Lord Tristan?”

  The magistrate’s eyes narrowed and a wicked grin stretched his lips. “With all due respect, Lady Hollingsworth, we are wondering if you and Lord Tristan are working together on this—ridding the world of men who abuse women.”

  “Of all the insane, ridiculous notions!” Diana jumped to her feet. “You two must be out of your mind to think such a thing.”

  The two men quickly rose. “Lady Hollingsworth, were you not with Lord Tristan these past few days? Rumors have it that he was kidnapped and taken away from Mayfair by a woman set on revenge.” The magistrate arched his brow. “And you just admitted to be at your grandmother’s cottage for the past little while. I think this is too coincidental.”

  “Then you,” Diana growled each word slowly, “are thinking entirely too much.” Taking a deep breath, she concentrated on calming her ire. “Tell me, did you once stop to ask yourself that if I had kidnapped Lord Tristan and taken him to my grandmother’s cottage, how would we have been able to murder Lord Elliot? Especially with his lordship’s manor completely out of the way from my grandmother’s cottage.”

  The two dolts exchanged worried glances before they aimed their attention back to her.

  “Thank you, my lady.” Sir Felix bowed. “You have been very accommodating. If we have any more questions, we’ll let you know.”

  She walked to the parlor door, and motioned the butler over. “Mr. Phillips, please show these men out.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  She stood by the door and kept her eyes on them as the butler led them down the corridor to the front door. Each step they took made her heart sink lower. Those two idiots couldn’t possibly find any evidence that would link her to the murders, could they? Yet, her nightmare was hinting at reality. In her heart she had wanted her husband dead, and she had wished for Lord Elliot to have the same demise.

  And what about Lord Tristan? How could anyone have known that he’d spent the past few days with her at the cottage?

  Groaning, she rubbed her forehead, realizing that a pain in her skull had been there since she waited for the magistrate to arrive. The happiness she’d always wanted in her life was moving further and further away. Just as she felt Tristan would.

  From one of the other rooms, the door slowly opened and Tabitha cautiously poked her head out. She took a quick glance up and down the corridor before straightening and exiting the room, heading toward Diana in an unhurried pace. When she reached the sitting room, they both entered as Tabitha closed the door behind them.

  “How did it go?” Tabitha asked in a quiet voice.

  Emitti
ng a deep breath, Diana covered her face with her hands, her heart ready to break and tears to flow at any moment. “I fear I made them more suspicious. I could not lie to them, so I evaded their questions.” Breathing slower, she dropped her hands and looked back at Tabitha. “However, I really think they know what I was trying to do.”

  “Nonsense,” Tabitha said as she patted Diana’s shoulder. “Most men aren’t that astute.”

  A smile tugged on Diana’s mouth. She just couldn’t help it. Sometimes Tabitha’s clever comments made her laugh. “I had thought the same, but the magistrate and his man knew things they shouldn’t have.”

  “Like what?”

  “They suspected Tristan was with me at the cottage.”

  Tabitha scowled and folded her arms.

  “Those two suspect that Tristan and I were working together to rid the world of people like my husband and Lord Elliot.”

  The servant arched an eyebrow. “Not a bad idea, if I must say.”

  Once again, Tabitha’s comment caught Diana off guard and she chuckled. “As much as I feel the same, killing people is not the way to do it.”

  Tabitha shrugged. “Nice thought while it lasted.”

  Diana squeezed her friend’s hands. “I’m just glad you are here to lend me support. Heaven knows Ludlow’s servants would not care in the least what happens to me.”

  “I will always be your friend, Diana.”

  She released a sigh and tried to relax. “Tell me, did you get a chance to ride back to the cottage this morning to check on Sally?”

  “Yes, and I’m happy to report, she’s up and moving around, and her face is looking much better. It’s not swollen any longer.”

  Sighing with relief, Diana nodded. “I’m very grateful for that. Maybe now Lady Dashwood can find employment for her.”

  Tabitha grew abnormally quiet as her expression took on a faraway look. She was thinking about something, and Diana didn’t dare interrupt her friend’s thoughts.

  Tabitha tapped her chin as her gaze finally cleared. “Tell me, my lady, how well do you know Sally?”

  Diana shrugged. “Not that well at all. I only met her the night I caught Lord Elliot beating her. Why do you ask?”