“Forgive me for wondering this, but…is it possible that Sally killed Lord Elliot before you had rescued her that night?”
Diana’s stomach churned with unease. That thought had crossed her mind a time or two. “I suppose it’s possible, and I would not judge her if she had ended her employer’s life.” She shook her head. “However, we need to think bigger, here. Whoever killed Lord Elliot also killed my husband since both crimes were committed in the same fashion. However, I don’t believe my husband was close enough friends with Lord Elliot to know his servants and vice-versa.”
“I suppose you are correct,” Tabitha said with a sigh. “I was just trying to think of other people to help keep the magistrate from arresting you.”
“I thank you, my friend, but we cannot blame the innocent. We must put our minds together and try to think of who might be doing this, because if the magistrate doesn’t find any more suspects, he will surely arrest me or Tristan.” A pain pierced her heart. She couldn’t bear the thought of Tristan arrested. “But I need you to do something for me.”
“What is it, my lady?”
Diana hurried to the desk in the corner of the room, found a piece of paper and ink pen. “I need you to deliver a note to Lord Tristan, posthaste.” She sat and neatly penned a short missive. “I need to let him know what happened with the magistrate today.”
“Why do we not just take a drive and see if we can run into him in Town?”
“Because until the true killer is caught, Tristan and I cannot be seen together. That will only make people more suspicious.”
“That’s understandable.”
After she finished the note, she blew on the ink to dry it, and then folded it. As she handed it to Tabitha, she met her friend’s gaze. “Give it directly to him and nobody else.”
“As you wish, my lady.”
Tabitha turned and hurried out of the room. Diana’s eyes misted and she prayed everything would go according to plan. She must see Tristan, and the only way was after dark and after everyone was asleep…and the only place to meet was in her bedroom. They could ill afford having a servant—or anyone for that matter—witness their meeting.
Chapter Thirteen
“Bloody fools!” Tristan grumbled as he stared blankly at the black and white chess pieces on the table in front of him. His opponent, Lord Hawthorne, sat directly across from him. Dominic had come over to try and talk some sense into Tristan, but instead, he convinced his friend to play a game of chess. Unfortunately, Tristan couldn’t keep his mind on the game. Not when the magistrate had dropped by this morning.
“Worthington? Is the reference you made to fools aimed toward your chess pieces or something else?” Dominic had a hint of laughter in his tone, and sparkle of humor in his eyes.
Tristan shook his head. “I was referring to the magistrate and the idiot with him.”
“Ah, now your words make more sense.” Dominic nodded. “I must agree. Those two are fools, but fools who have solved many crimes before. Sometimes I wonder how they do it when they don’t have an ounce of brain in their heads.”
Looking up from the chess pieces, Tristan pierced Nic with a scowl. “Are you mocking me?”
“Hardly, my good man.” Nic waved his hand in the air. “I’m merely agreeing with you in my own humorous way.”
“Well, now is not the time or place for humor. I have much on my mind, and none of it is worth laughing over.”
“That explains,” Nic paused as he moved his white Knight and took over one of Tristan’s black Bishops, “why I’m winning.”
Although Tristan didn’t like losing, in this case he should just throw his hands in the air and admit defeat. Under the circumstances, there was no way he could concentrate on the game now.
“So tell me, what is it about their visit that has left you so upset?” Hawthorne leaned back in his chair.
“They tried to get me to confess the identity of the lady who kidnapped me, and even suggested the two of us were working together in Elliot and Hollingsworth’s murders.”
“Surely you jest.” Nic’s eyebrows creased. “Why would they say that?”
“Because they are bloody fools!”
Nic tilted his head as his gaze narrowed on Tristan. “Tell me truthfully and settle my mind. Was the lady who kidnapped you the same lady you had fallen in love with so quickly a few years past?”
Tristan couldn’t tell his friend. Yet, Dominic Lawrence had always been a trustworthy fellow. Nic wasn’t the kind of man who spread hurtful lies, either. “What would you say if indeed it was Lady Hollingsworth?”
Groaning, Nic rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “I would say my friend was not in his right mind.” He met Tristan’s gaze again. “Because I know for certain that you have feelings for Diana, and at this time in your life, that is not a good thing.”
“What makes you think I have feelings for her?”
“It was obvious when you talked to us after your return the other day,” Nic answered.
Shrugging, Tristan focused back on the chess set. “So what of it? Diana and I talked for the first time since my accident. We both discovered truths that were kept from us.” He lifted his eyes to his friend. “And believe me when I tell you, she was not to blame in any of this. Not with what happened back then and certainly not what has happened to Hollingsworth and Elliot recently.”
“Although you might think this way,” Nic said, leaning forward, “the magistrate will see it differently. He will think Diana wanted her husband dead all this time because of what Hollingsworth did to her love for you. Now that you’re back from the dead, the magistrate will think you and Diana killed her husband so the two of you could finally be together.”
Tristan fisted his hands as anger shot through him. “That’s ridiculous. They might think that about Ludlow, but what about Elliot? What could possibly be the motive for killing him? It’s obvious that the two killings were done by the same person, so tell me wise one, what links us with my cousin’s murder?”
“Perhaps Lord Elliot had seen the two of you kill Ludlow and was trying to blackmail you.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “Tristan, you don’t understand that there could be plenty of ideas the magistrate could create. The point is, you must not see Diana until after they have caught the true killer. Don’t you see how dangerous that is not only for you but for her?”
Growling in frustration, Tristan pushed away from the table and strode to the window. Confusion clogged his rational thinking, and at the same time, loneliness clutched his heart when he imagined not being able to see Diana. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. If needs be, he would find a way for them to be together—even if it meant returning to her grandmother’s cottage. He would inform his family he was traveling abroad for an extended period, and Diana could just tell those who needed to know that she was caring for an ailing family member.
Worry eased slightly from his idea. If this was the only way, then he’d do it. He wouldn’t allow Diana to slip through his fingers again.
The knock on the study door put a halt to Tristan’s thoughts. “Enter.”
Bentley, the butler, peeked inside. “My lord, you have a visitor. The young miss is delivering a note from her mistress, but she refuses to give me her name or a card. She says she has been tasked with making certain she hands the note to you and none other.”
How odd, unless… “Bentley, show her in. I shall speak with her directly.”
After the butler left, Tristan turned to Dominic who wore that worrisome expression Tristan was used to seeing lately.
“Do you honestly think that’s a good idea?” Nic asked.
“If the messenger is who I think it is, then it’s a very good idea.”
“And pray, who do you think this young miss is?”
Without being able to help it, a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “The woman who kidnapped me, that’s who.”
Hawthorne’s eyes widened. “Lady Hollingsworth?”
“No, it w
as actually her maid who takes credit for that.”
When footsteps creaked on the floor outside the study, Tristan held his hand up to Nic, silently communicating with him not to say another word.
Just as Tristan suspected, the young miss that entered the study was Tabitha. She wore a brown cloak over her gray dress, and a matching gray bonnet. However, the hat was pulled low on her forehead as if she tried to hide her eyes. She watched Tristan until Nic rose to his feet. Tabitha stopped abruptly as her gaze flew to Hawthorne, and her eyes widened. In a flash, she threw her accusing glare back to Tristan.
“Nice to see you again, Tabitha.” Tristan smiled. “Let me introduce you to my good friend, Lord Hawthorne. Hawthorne, this is Lady Hollingsworth’s maid, Tabitha.”
The interest in Nic’s eyes was quite obvious as he skimmed his attention over Tabitha from the top of her head down to her shoes. A charming smile—the kind Nic enjoyed giving to women to make them weak in the knees—stretched across his face.
He bowed slightly. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Tabitha.”
Tristan was surprised that the maid’s cheeks didn’t flare with color like what happened to most women when meeting Dominic for the first time. In fact, she rolled her eyes and focused back on Tristan without even saying one word to Nic.
“My lord, I came here to deliver a note directly to you. My lady wishes that you tell no one about this note.” She handed it to Tristan.
“I understand.” He turned to Nic and said, “Lord Hawthorne, would you give Tabitha and I a few minutes alone?”
“Of course.” He nodded to Tristan before turning to look at Tabitha. “Nice to meet you.”
She forced a smile until Nic left the room and closed the door then she turned back to Tristan wearing a solemn expression. “My lord, Lady Hollingsworth assured me there would be secrecy about this meeting and the kidnapping. So why did you introduce me to Lord Hawthorne?”
“Calm yourself, Tabitha.” Tristan walked to his desk and sat in the chair. “I assure you Lord Hawthorne is a man I can trust. He will not tell anyone about you coming here or about Lady Hollingsworth.” He broke the seal on the letter and scanned the contents. Diana needed to speak with him tonight. It was urgent.
He glanced up at Tabitha. “Tell Diana I will be there.”
“I shall.” She turned toward the door and placed her hand on the door latch. “I beg you, Lord Tristan, please don’t say anything to your friend. You might trust him, but I do not.”
“Why is that, I wonder?” Slowly, he stood and walked toward her. “Have you met my friend before or had dealings with him?”
“No, but…” She took a deep breath. “Men like your friend are only a threat to women like myself. I may not know him, but I’ve heard of his reputation and it’s not a good one.”
Tristan wanted to laugh, but he refrained. “I certainly can’t argue with you on that matter.”
She curtsied. “Good day, Lord Tristan.” She pulled the hood lower over her forehead, ducked her head and left.
Tilting his head, he studied her as she scurried away. Strange woman, especially when she tried her hardest not to have his servants look her way.
* * * *
Tabitha rushed out of the townhouse, and breathed a sigh of relief to be out of that place. She couldn’t have anyone recognize her…or even think she looked familiar. That would certainly not be a good thing and perhaps ruin her life—especially when the wrong person saw her. But she wasn’t out of danger yet. As soon as she stepped foot back into Diana’s house, the immediate danger to Tabitha would be gone.
“What’s your hurry, my lovely?”
The man’s sultry voice turned her blood to ice. Yet at the same time, anger filled her and she wanted to tell the lord to mind his own business and leave her alone.
She glanced over her shoulder. Lord Hawthorne casually walked toward her from the side of the house, still wearing that knee-buckling grin on his nicely chiseled face. Curse the man for looking at her like that. He had no right. No right at all!
“If you will excuse me, my lord, I must be getting back.”
“But Miss Tabitha, I’m certain your mistress would not scold you for talking to me for two minutes.”
“Probably not, but I’d rather not take up your time.” She continued to hurry, but his long legs had him catching up fast.
“I must admit Miss Tabitha, that you have me very curious about your behavior toward me. Pray, did I offend you in some way when we met? Did I say the wrong thing?”
Good grief! What was wrong with this man? Why didn’t he take the hint? Huffing, she stopped and faced him, causing him to nearly bump into her. She had to tilt her head back to look into his face—a face that was too handsome to be real.
“If you must know, I would rather not converse with you. I’m in a hurry—”
“Just two minutes is all I ask.”
He grinned at her again, and she wanted to slap it right off his face. “If I relent, will you then leave me alone?”
His eyes widened as did his mischievous smile. “Leave you alone? Why would you want me to do that?”
“Lord Hawthorne, I’m quite certain you have charmed many women, but I will not be one of them. Please save your efforts for someone who actually wants your attention. I, my lord, do not.”
Not very often did she get to witness a titled man’s jaw drop and his mouth gape, but this was one time she did. Surprise registered on his face along with bewilderment. She was sure he never had a woman say that to him before.
It didn’t take long before he shook himself out of his stunned silence and straightened.
“Miss Tabitha, you intrigue me, and I find myself wanting to get to know you better, mainly because of your refusal to be courteous.”
He cannot be serious! “Then what would it take for you to leave me alone? Would swooning at your feet and falling into your arms make you give up pursuit? If so, I would gladly do that now just to be rid of your persistence.”
Lord Hawthorne chuckled and folded his arms across his chest. “So are you a woman who doesn’t enjoy a man giving her compliments?”
She shook her head.
“Do you mean to tell me that if I told you that your eyes were as beautiful as the blue iris flower you would not like that? And if I told you that your face was lovelier than most women I have met—that it wouldn’t make a difference to you? Indeed, you are an angel who has dropped from the heavens.”
Against her will, her heart did a silly flip. Curse his hide! But she would gladly show him her devilish side—and she just might if he didn’t leave.
Giving a nonchalant shrug, she said, “I’m sorry to say, but no, your words do not affect me. I don’t have the time for flattery. You are wasting your efforts.” She straightened her shoulders. “Now, my lord, I believe it has been two minutes and I must be getting back to my mistress.” She bobbed a quick curtsy. “Have a pleasant day.”
This time as she hurried away, he didn’t follow. It took all of her willpower not to turn and look back, but as she reached the end of the walkway, she just couldn’t help herself and peeked over her shoulder. Lord Hawthorne hadn’t moved from where she left him, and when he saw her look back, his face beamed with happiness. Oh great! Now she knew she’d never be rid of him. Well, she would just have to try harder.
The closer to Diana’s home, the more relaxed Tabitha became. She really didn’t want to be around the Worthington family. Being right inside the dragon’s lair frightened her nearly to death. And she wasn’t an easy person to scare.
Yet she could never let them know her secret. Not now. Not ever.
* * * *
Long after the servants had retired for bed, Tristan crept out of his house. He wore black clothes and cape, hoping he wouldn’t get noticed. The streets were dark as he rode his horse to Diana’s house, and as he approached her estate, all seemed quiet. He tied his horse to the front gate and cautiously snuck to the front door. Just as the note indicated, t
he door was unlocked.
Once he stepped inside, he felt another presence. The dark corridor didn’t show him anything, but he heard breathing. Seconds later, came the soft steps of a woman.
“Tristan?” Diana whispered.
A relieved sigh escaped his throat. “Yes, it is I.”
A dark shadow moved in front of him and her hand clasped with his.
“Follow me.”
Tristan twined his fingers with hers and followed. Together they tiptoed up the stairs and down another long corridor. When they reached a room, she opened the door. Inside one candle had been lit, which helped him to see slightly better.
Diana still wore a gown, but her hair had been brushed out of the ringlets and the tight coil she usually wore. With very little lighting, he couldn’t see her beautiful eyes like he wanted, but he knew they sparkled green.
“I’m so glad you came,” she said softly as she closed the door.
He moved in front of her and clasped both of her hands. “Nothing could keep me away.” He wanted to take her in his arms so badly right now, but didn’t dare. Being away from her these past few days had been torture, and he feared if he started kissing her, he would never want to stop.
“Your missive sounded urgent.”
She nodded. “What I have to tell you is extremely urgent. It’s about Lord Elliot’s murder.”
Tristan tugged on her hands and led her to the sofa against the wall near the window. He slipped off his cape and rested it over the back of a nearby chair before sitting next to her on the sofa.
“Has the magistrate talked to you?” he inquired.
“Yes, early this afternoon, in fact.”
“Same with me.” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “And if they said the same thing to you as they did to me, then I certainly know why your note sounded so urgent.”
“Oh, Tristan.” Diana laid her head on his shoulder. “What are we to do? We were not working together to kill Ludlow or Lord Elliot.”
“I know, but proving that to the magistrate might be quite a task for us.”
The Sweetest Love (Sons of Worthington Series) Page 15