The Sweetest Love (Sons of Worthington Series)

by Higgins, Marie

The spark in the fireplace started. Tristan blew on it gently until a good fire began to burn. “Are you going to allow one woman to control how you feel for the rest of your life?”

  Nic moved to stand by the fire. Tristan looked up at his friend’s serious expression. Not often did Hawthorne show this vulnerable side to him.

  Nic tapped his finger on his chin. “You know, I could say the same about you.”

  “Me?”

  “Indeed. Have you not allowed Lady Hollingsworth to control your feelings? If we discover from our visit here that she has indeed deceived you, will your heart be scarred for life? Or will you eventually find another woman to love?”

  Tristan stared into the fire. Numbness spread across him and he refused to think of the future. Nic was correct. Tristan had allowed Diana into his heart, and God help him, he never wanted to let her out.

  * * * *

  “I just don’t understand you, Tabitha. Why do you taunt that man so much?” Diana sat at the table peeling potatoes as her maids helped her prepare the meal. “Lord Hawthorne is a respected man…and a man many women would love to marry, I might add. I just cannot understand why you don’t have dreamy eyes for him.”

  A loud unlady-like grunt came from Tabitha as she rolled her eyes. “That will never happen. Men like him are not worth my time. And honestly, the only reason I put up with Lord Tristan is because of you.”

  Diana set her knife and potato down before looking at Tabitha. “What do you mean men like him? Are you referring to rakes or nobility? Because Tristan has never been a scoundrel.”

  “Perhaps it’s a combination of both that I’m disgusted with.” Tabitha frowned. “Gentlemen think of themselves as holier-than-thou creatures who cannot even force themselves to speak civilly to someone who is beneath their station, and if they do speak, they treat us like our only purpose is to warm their beds.”

  Diana patted her friend’s shoulder. “There are a lot of men like what you have described, but Lord Hawthorne and Tristan are not like that.”

  “I see them differently, my lady. They treat me differently when you are not around.”

  Narrowing her gaze, Diana shook her head. “Tristan has treated you in such a way—like he wants you to warm his bed?”

  Tabitha cringed. “No, not that way, but he looks down on me as if I were nothing but dirt on his boots.”

  “Lady Hollingsworth,” Sally cut in, “I must agree with Tabitha. Because we are not but mere servants, we will always be treated as such. Lord Elliot taught us that lesson well.”

  “Not all masters are like Lord Elliot.” Diana cut up a potato, letting it drop into the pot. “In fact Tabitha, do you not remember how it was when you and your mother worked for my grandmother?”

  “Yes, I remember. Working for her was pure heavenly. Your grandmother was the sweetest woman I knew.” Tabitha smiled at Diana. “And now I know that her granddaughter inherited her sweet nature.”

  “You are too kind.” Diana’s face grew warm with the compliment.

  “But back then,” Tabitha continued, “I worked for only a woman. After your grandmother died, I was sent to Lord Elliot. That was the first time a man had been in charge of me.” She shivered. “I never want to go through that hell again.”

  Diana touched her friend’s hand. “Tabitha, not all men are like that. I assure you, Tristan and his brothers will never treat their servants with such disdain.”

  Tabitha set her knife down, narrowing her gaze on Diana. “Are you certain, my lady? I have heard talk from servants and they say the old Duke of Kensington was very mean to his servants and treated women like they were slaves.”

  Sighing heavily, Diana nodded. “Indeed, Tristan’s father was a very inconsiderate, selfish man who loved to create scandal, but even the one son who we thought would turn out like him—Trey—didn’t end up like his sire after all. Trevor and Tristan will never be like that, either. I stake my life on it.”

  “I’m comforted to know you have so much faith in them. However, they are but three men, and England is filled with men like Lord Elliot and Lord Hollingsworth.”

  Memories Diana tried to bury resurfaced. Scenes flashed through her head of Ludlow raising his hand to her when he thought she’d done something wrong. He even starved her on a few occasions…and those were the nice punishments he’d inflicted upon her. “Very true, Tabitha. I wish more men were like the Worthington brothers.”

  “As do I,” Tabitha said with a frown. “Forgive me for speaking my mind, but I’m vastly relieved Lord Elliot and Lord Hollingsworth have been taken from this world. They both deserved to die for what they did to all of us. In fact, the thought of killing them with my bare hands had crossed my mind several times. I cannot tolerate men who treat women in such a way. They all deserve to die, or be punished severely.”

  “I agree,” Sally muttered her response.

  Diana carried the pot of vegetables to the hot stove before pouring water over them. “I believe there are many others who share your thoughts.”

  “Lady Hollingsworth? Did you ever think of killing your husband?” Sally asked.

  Diana walked back to the table and sat. She linked her fingers together and rested them on the edge of the table. Thoughts swam in her head, followed by the bitter feelings she’d once had. “Although I didn’t think about doing the actual deed, I had prayed that something would happen to my husband to end his life.” A tear slid down her cheek that she hadn’t realized was there. “I hated myself for feeling that way, but when it finally happened, I thanked God that it had. I couldn’t believe how free I felt…even when the magistrate suspected me of murder.”

  “For months I felt that way about Lord Elliot,” Sally injected softly with tears in her eyes.

  “As did I.” Tabitha nodded. “And I was grateful this angel of mercy—” she touched Diana’s shoulder— “came to rescue me.”

  Sally nodded. “That was also the day I will never forget.” She sniffed and wiped her hand underneath her nose. “Lady Hollingsworth, you are truly my Savior for rescuing me from that monster.”

  When Diana smiled her lips quaked as she tried to hold back the sob rising in her throat. “I just wish I would have known about it sooner.”

  “You saved my life,” Sally said.

  “And mine.” Tabitha wiped a tear off her face.

  Diana stood and hugged Sally, then gave Tabitha a hug as well. Tears streamed down the servants’ cheeks, and Diana’s own cheeks were even wet.

  Pulling away, she wiped her knuckles under her eyes to dry the tears before smoothing her palms on her apron. “Well, I think we should concentrate on getting the meal finished. I’m certain our visitors are famished. And we need to fetch their clothes and—”

  Before she could finish, the floor outside the kitchen door creaked. Diana sucked in a quick breath and swung toward the door. Her heart dropped.

  “What’s wrong, my lady?” Sally questioned.

  “I think someone is in the hall…coming.”

  Diana prayed she was hearing things because she didn’t need Tristan or Nic overhearing and asking her questions later. Her mind argued that the men wouldn’t leave the room wearing only a blanket to venture into a room with three women, yet… Someone was indeed outside the door. She could feel it as a dark cloud of doom settled over her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Tristan hitched his breath. We’re going to get caught.

  He traded panic glances with Nic before motioning with his head toward the nearest room. As quietly as the two men could walk, they hurried on bare feet inside and closed the door. Tristan didn’t dare make a sound. He even held his blanket around his shoulders tighter for fear of accidentally dropping the covering.

  The squeak from kitchen door opening alerted Tristan that they had just barely made it before being spotted. Pressing his ear against the wooden door, he held his breath.

  “Who is out there?” Tabitha’s voice almost echoed through the empty corridor.

&nb
sp; “I don’t see anyone,” Diana said as relief lightened her voice. “I suppose I was just hearing things.”

  “Most likely that is what happened,” Tabitha answered. “The wind outside is still blowing strong. Perhaps that is what you heard.”

  “I certainly hope so.”

  As soon as the kitchen door squeaked again, Tristan quietly pulled up on the latch his hand had been gripping so tightly, opened the bedroom door, and peeked out. Tabitha and Diana had gone back inside the kitchen. His pounding heartbeat slowly returned to normal as he expelled a breath.

  “Come,” Tristan whispered to Nic, “let’s return to the room before they realize we were listening.”

  Nodding, Nic pulled the blanket tight around his body and hurried up the corridor behind Tristan toward the stairs.

  “That was a close call,” Nic said as they reached the top of the stairs.

  “Too close.” Tristan glanced over his shoulder at Nic. “But when I have my talk with Diana and she asks how I know, I will tell her I overheard her in the kitchen. Although she insists on holding the truth from me, I shall not do the same. I plan on being completely honest.”

  “That’s the only way to be.”

  “However,” Tristan paused once they reached the room and entered, “I need you to keep Tabitha occupied. I do not want anything to interrupt my talk with Diana.”

  Nic rolled his eyes. “I shall try, but that woman can drive a man to drink, and I don’t know how much alcohol Lady Hollingsworth has in this small cottage for me to consume.”

  “Then I suggest you ask her. You are very talented at holding your liquor and being charming at the same time,” Tristan grinned.

  “Do not make light of this, Worthington.”

  Fortunately, they hadn’t waited for Tabitha to collect their clothes, laying out to dry themselves. Nic marched to the fireplace and adjusted his clothes that had been draped over the chair to dry. Tristan followed and copied his friend’s actions. The quicker the garments dried, the more comfortable Tristan would feel.

  “I have never met a woman like Diana’s maid,” Nic continued. “She acts as if I’m the one who is far beneath her station to even speak to me. When she does talk, nothing but disdain pours from her mouth.”

  “That is certainly out of the ordinary. Whatever have you done to vex her so?”

  “Not a thing, I assure you.” Nic lifted his head and looked at Tristan. “The few times I’ve talked to her, she has been this way.” He shook his head. “I have never wronged her or caused her ill will…yet she treats me like I have made her life miserable.”

  “Indeed, that is very strange behavior.”

  “Quite right.”

  “As it were…will you still help me out by keeping her occupied?” Tristan asked. “I don’t want her to accidentally hear her name in the conversation I have with Diana and come barging in to interrupt us.”

  “Of course. I just pray your talk with Lady Hollingsworth doesn’t take too long. I fear I won’t know what to do if Tabitha upsets me more than she has done already.”

  From out in the corridor, the stairs squeaked. Tristan swung his attention to the door. Mere moments later came a knock.

  “Tristan? Are you still there?”

  He walked to the door and opened it enough to poke his head out. “Yes, Diana.” He smiled, although he couldn’t feel the happiness inside him as he’d felt before when peering into her lovely face. “Where else would we be? There is no place for us to be since we are covered in blankets.”

  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.