“Certainly, Mrs. Burls. If you will all excuse me, then.” He bowed, turned, and strolled toward the room. As he walked by the front door, more visitors arrived. He smiled and nodded, but didn’t stop to talk.
When he entered the small sitting room, he noticed Mrs. Stiles immediately. She stood with two other ladies who were much younger. The three of them were gathered by the window as they talked. The two unknown women had their backs to him, but being a man who notices the young ladies, he already knew he’d never met these two since coming to this small town.
He went straight to the table and placed his gift with the others. As he turned, Mrs. Stiles broke away from her friends and headed for him.
“Mr. Woodland. What a surprise it is to see you tonight.” Her gaze slid over his torso and her eyes widened. “Oh, my… You have lost a little weight, haven’t you? I didn’t know you had been that ill.”
He’d heard this phrase many times today. “Indeed, I have, Mrs. Stiles.” He patted his stomach. “But I’m doing much better, thank you.”
“While you are here, let me introduce you to Mrs. Burls’ great niece.” She moved aside and pointed to the young woman who stood behind her. “This is Miss Tabitha Paget from York.”
The name hit him like a fierce northern wind and about knocked him over. What was she doing so far from home? His mind turned numb, and apparently, so did his tongue. He had so much he wanted to say to her, and to apologize for, but no words would come forth. Then again, he was not the Marquis of Hawthorne. She saw him as Mr. Woodland, the clergyman.
Would she recognize him? His heart sank briefly. No matter what, he couldn’t blow his disguise. Frederick would never forgive him.
She smiled politely and curtsied. His heart flipped a couple of times and he nearly lost his breath. She was stunning! So much more beautiful than when he’d last seen her…when he had falsely accused her of murder.
Instead of the maid’s dresses he’d seen her wear before; she dressed in the clothes of a genteel lady. The yellow dress looked to be satin, with a white-laced overskirt flowing down the length. The sleeves were short and slightly puffy over her shoulders. Around her neck was a strand of small pearls. Her hair had been styled differently, as well. Russet ringlets hung on her shoulders so perfectly, he wanted to touch one to see if they were real.
However, the one thing that hadn’t changed about her was her blue eyes. He’d once called them amazing, because in fact, they were the loveliest he’d ever seen.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Woodland,” she said.
Even the sound of her voice had him breathing raggedly in memory of their few, but very memorable, times together. He couldn’t stop his gaze from dropping to her mouth. A mouth that stole any coherent thought when he recalled her soft lips against his.
Suddenly, her gaze shifted nervously from Mrs. Stiles to the other woman who remained back by the window. Why was Sally here with Tabitha?
Inwardly, he shouted at himself to say something. He wasn’t certain what kind of expression was on his face, but he was willing to bet it was one of shock. Whatever he did, he must remember to keep in character. He couldn’t have Tabitha guessing his true identity.
He cleared his voice and smiled. “Miss Paget, this is a pleasure to meet the grand-niece of such a wonderful woman.” He bowed. “Mrs. Burls is one of God’s greatest blessings in this township.”
Tabitha nodded. “I thank you. I’m sure my aunt will be happy knowing you hold her in such high esteem.”
“How long will you be staying with your aunt?” he asked.
She shrugged. “It’s undecided now. If my aunt will have me, I wouldn’t mind staying for a few months.”
He silently groaned, but at the same time, his heart sped with excitement. This confusing reaction from his body would not do! He could not—under no circumstance—let her know who he truly was. To be sure, her presence here would not be a good thing if he and Frederick planned to trap a thief.
“Well, I’m certain your aunt would love your company, and I can assure you, the community—as well as myself—will welcome you with opened arms.” He gritted his teeth. Why had he said it that way?
She gave a hesitant nod as her smile weakened. “Uh, I thank you again.”
Nobody said a word, which made another awkward moment. Never in his life had he been so tongue-tied as he was now. The marquis’ smooth tongue had gotten him out of messes before. But then he wasn’t the marquis now.
Tabitha even appeared uncomfortable as her gaze shifted all around them. When she did look at him, her attention fell to his beard.
Chuckling, he ran his hand over his hairy face. “You’re probably wondering why a clergyman sports a beard. Am I correct, Miss Tabitha?”
She shrugged. “I suppose that thought did cross my mind.”
“My sickness made it impossible for me to shave. And until I’m fully healed, I must leave this on. I hope you don’t mind seeing me so scruffy.”
“Not at all, Mr. Woodland.”
“Perhaps,” Mrs. Stiles interrupted, “we should join the others now.” She turned to the maid still by the window. “Sally, will you make sure there’s enough food being served, and just help the other two servants tonight?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Sally curtsied and hurried past him into the other room.
Mrs. Stiles smiled. “Well, shall we go now?”
“Splendid idea.” Nic breathed a relieved sigh. He motioned his hand. “After you ladies, of course.”
As Mrs. Stiles and Tabitha walked by, Tabitha’s curious stare stayed on him. Uncomfortable, he dropped his gaze as he followed behind.
Did she recognize him? She couldn’t possibly…yet why did she look suspiciously at him with narrowed eyes?
* * * *
Tabitha entered the large room where her aunt was seated. Many more people had joined the party. Mrs. Stiles had taken it upon herself to introduce Tabitha to the guests since Aunt Clara was busy visiting. All through the introductions, Tabitha’s gaze kept reverting to one man. She didn’t know what it was about the clergyman, but she wasn’t certain she liked the way his eyes were always on her. Yet, when she did make eye contact with him, he quickly looked away. She wasn’t stupid. She knew he’d been watching.
Even though they had never met before, there was something very familiar about him. Unfortunately, she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was that made her so curious. Was it his eyes? His voice? Or perhaps it was just because she didn’t like the way he kept looking at her as if he could see clear through to her soul.
“Oh, Miss Tabitha,” Mrs. Stiles leaned closer and whispered, “I do believe you have caught the eye of Mr. Woodland.” She grinned. “He’s a handsome man, is he not?”
Handsome? Tabitha rubbed her forehead. She hadn’t really noticed. “I supposed for a man of his age, he’s handsome.”
“His age? Oh, Miss Tabitha, he isn’t very old.”
“What age is he? He looks like he’s in his fortieth year.”
“But that’s not too old, is it? He probably looks a little older to you because of his recent illness. But he’s well now.” Mrs. Stiles bumped her elbow against Tabitha’s. “And it seems to me that he fancies you quite a bit. He is unwed, you know.”
Tabitha’s stomach rolled with worry. “Mrs. Stiles, I appreciate you trying to play matchmaker, but I’m not here to look for a husband. In fact, I don’t believe I wish to marry at all.”
“What?” Mrs. Stiles gasped. “Are you jesting? You are too lovely not to marry. Why would you not want a husband?”
“I’m just not ready to be married.” Taking a deep breath, Tabitha calmed her raging mind.
Whenever she thought back on her life and all the things she had been forced to deal with, she knew marriage would not agree with her. Plain and simple, she couldn’t trust men. Indeed, she would be much happier and content if she never had to deal with one ever again.
Time passed, and thankfully, Tabitha was kept bu
sy. The townspeople were very kind and just like the clergyman had predicted, they welcomed her into their fold with opened arms. Inwardly, she chuckled, remembering the exact way Mr. Woodland had said it, but especially the look on his face right after he’d said it…as if he didn’t mean to speak his mind.
What an odd fellow.
When it was time for Aunt Clara to open her gifts, she sat in the center of the room while Mrs. Stiles handed her the presents—which she’d previously brought into the room—one by one. The bearer of each gift offered it to Aunt Clara. The old woman giggled like she was still a young girl in pigtails, which Tabitha found most charming.
Once Mr. Woodland presented his gift, Aunt Clara’s face beamed with excitement as she tore off the wrapper. She gasped and held up a box painted with butterflies and hearts, and what looked to be flowers as well.
“Oh, Mr. Woodland,” Aunt Clara cooed. “This is so lovely.”
“It’s a music box.” He reached over and lifted the lid.
The crowd quieted while the music chimed through the air. Immediately, Tabitha recognized an old Irish song that her mother used to sing when Tabitha was a child. Tears spiked her eyes as homesickness settled in her chest. Those memories of her mother were so joyous, and to think her parent was no longer alive made Tabitha’s heart ache.
“Mr. Woodland…” Aunt Clara brought a hand to her mouth. Tears filled her eyes, as well. “You remembered my favorite song.”
“Indeed, I did.” He smiled brightly.
“Then if you remembered, I’m certain you also recall that I enjoy hearing you sing it to me.” She waggled her thin eyebrows. “Would you do so now?”
Mr. Woodland’s eyes enlarged and color actually left his face for a quick second. In fact, if Tabitha wasn’t mistaken, it appeared as if he was panicked right now.
Why would a clergyman who was used to giving sermons and leading the congregation into hymns, act like he was afraid to sing in front of everyone?
Very curious!
Chapter Three
I’m going to kill him!
Nic tried to keep calm while anger boiled inside him. Frederick knew Nic hadn’t sung in public for many years, and yet his idiotic cousin still went and let Nic give this music box to the old lady.
Everyone in the room had their eyes on him, and by looking at their expressions, he knew they could see he was panicked. Of course he was! He was caught off guard and didn’t know how to react. Keep calm, Hawthorne. You can do this…
He cleared his throat and smiled his best under these awkward circumstances. He aimed his attention at Mrs. Burls. “Oh, my dear friend, you catch me unawares. I haven’t sung since I first became sick a couple of weeks ago. I daresay that if I sing now, all the mirrors in the house will crack and the dogs will howl.”
Chuckles ripped through the air, setting Nic a little more at ease. Mrs. Burls’ smile waned. His heart wrenched. Blast it all, why did she have to look at him like that? Of course, she didn’t know why he—Nic—had stopped singing in public, or why he’d vowed never to do so again. But Frederick did…and Nic would indeed kill him, tonight!
“I understand,” Mrs. Burls said. “I didn’t realize the illness had affected you so.”
Another man in the room stepped forward. Mr. Jacobs was the town’s blacksmith, and from what Nic could tell, a good man. His wife had died two years ago, and he was left alone to raise his seven-year-old daughter. Jacobs was diligently seeking a wife, and the whole town knew it. The poor fellow wasn’t having very much luck, either. Recently, he’d fallen in his shop and banged up his knee badly. It was a struggle for him to get around on crutches, let alone make a living as a blacksmith.
“Mrs. Burls,” Jacobs said. “Please permit me to sing the song for you. I know my voice won’t be as glorious as Mr. Woodlands, but it would be my honor.”
Ice chilled Nic’s veins. Memories from the past resurfaced, twisting his gut. Bitterness coated his tongue and he wanted to gag. This was what happened all those years ago—the last time he’d been asked to sing in public. He’d been upset about Lady Anna’s rejection, and so allowed another man to sing for him while attending a dinner social. People looked down on him for allowing someone else to sing when they had had asked specifically for him. Afterwards, the humiliation of what he’d done in front of the group had ruined him from wanting to share his talent ever again.
He’d be damned if he would let another man take over for something Nic could do himself. He would not be made a fool out of again. Unfortunately, he needed to build up his courage quickly or the moment would pass him by.
“I thank you, Mr. Jacobs,” Mrs. Burls said. “But perhaps another time. I just remembered another person who loves this song as much as I.” Her gaze flew to Tabitha. “Her mother was my favorite niece and used to sing it to Miss Tabitha when she was young.” Mrs. Burls held out her hand toward Tabitha. “Would you sing it to me, my dear?”
Nic’s heart softened as he watched Tabitha’s face. She appeared more panicked than he’d felt a few seconds ago. As seconds ticked by, tears gathered in her eyes. Her chest heaved and he supposed she’d taken a deep breath before stepping closer to her great aunt.
He remained silent as Tabitha struggled to do as her aunt requested. Emotions changed on her face, and color had faded from her cheeks. Yet, the woman was going to do it. The determination shining in her watery eyes was unmistakable.
“Yes, Aunt Clara.” Tabitha’s voice shook. “I shall sing the song for you as best as I can.” She cleared her voice and began the old Irish song.
Nic held his breath. Tabitha’s voice shook, and although it wasn’t an awful sound, he knew how uncomfortable she was with everyone watching her. He could sympathize. Nobody should have to suffer such as this, in his opinion.
She blinked back tears as her voice rasped. Nic’s heart leapt, which was the kick he needed to help her.
He cleared his throat again and stepped toward her. He sang where she had left off. At first, his voice was a little shaky, but the more he sang, the more confident he became, and his voice grew stronger. And deeper. Just as it had been many years ago.
Her eyes grew large as a tear fell. Within seconds, relief spread across her face and she smiled. Straightening her shoulders, she opened her mouth as the song came forth. She kept her gaze on him as they sang together.
Happiness fluttered in his chest. She was literally an angel sent from heaven, because her sweet voice was so angelic and matched perfectly to his in a magnificent melody. A few times she even harmonized with him.
Never had he heard anything so wonderful. He couldn’t tear his gaze from hers, not even to peek at the old woman the song was meant for.
His heart was so full that by the time the music box had stopped playing, he feared he would take Tabitha in his arms and hold her. Good grief! Why was he feeling like such a sap right now? Yet it didn’t matter. He had made Tabitha happy. Her smile broadened as they finished the last word of the tune. She mouthed thank you to him, and his heart melted.
Cheers and applause filled the air. Finally, he moved his attention to the others in the room. Mrs. Burls clapped the loudest. Tears filled her eyes and were running down her cheeks. Mrs. Stiles was also crying, as well as a few others in the group. Although Mr. Jacobs clapped, his smile seemed strained.
“Oh, that was just beautiful,” Mrs. Burls said. “Your voices blend magically together. My birthday is now complete.”
He smiled at the older woman and nodded. “I must agree. Your niece has a very lovely voice.”
Nic still wanted to kill his cousin, but at least he wasn’t as angry as he’d been at first. Frederick couldn’t have known Tabitha would be asked to sing that song, too. And what luck that she was musically inclined. Was she naturally talented, or had she been given singing lessons? Yet, she was a mere maid, as her mother before her. Servants weren’t given singing lessons.
He stepped back and allowed the gift-giving to proceed. Tabitha had returned to s
tanding by herself. For the first few minutes, she watched Sally move around the room, offering more food as she carried around a tray. Slowly, Tabitha’s gaze shifted to him, and this time when her eyes met his, they weren’t as curious or suspicious. Instead, she appeared grateful for his help.
Slowly, he breathed out a pent up sigh. It amazed him to think he had enjoyed singing with her. He relished the feeling of his heart blooming with love when he poured out his feelings through song. Why had he allowed Lady Anna Rutledge to take that away from him all those years ago? True, he’d been young and foolish back then, but her public rejection had left a permanent stain in his mind. He abhorred that feeling and never wanted to experience it again, which was why he’d turned to the activities of a rogue instead of trying to find a good woman to marry and have children with.
After the gifts were opened, the crowd began mingling again. Refreshments were on the table in the corner of the room. He wanted to get a bite to eat, but more than anything he wanted a drink. Whiskey, in fact, and not the watered down sort. Unfortunately, he wasn’t going to find that here.
As he made his way to the food, people stopped him and complimented him on his lovely singing voice. Many mentioned that his illness must have made his voice much stronger, because they couldn’t recall him singing so well at church. Good heavens, what had he done? Frederick had a good singing voice, but apparently, not good enough since most of these people noticed the difference.
He glanced around the room for Tabitha, and there she stood, surrounded by some of the guests. Her cheeks flared with color as she laughed at something someone said. Mr. Jacobs chatted with her the most, as he leaned heavily on his crutch. Even from way over here, Nic could see that Jacob’s next conquest for finding a wife would be Tabitha.
A nasty taste settled on Nic’s tongue. He didn’t know whether it was from the knowledge of Jacobs wooing Tabitha, or if it was because Nic really needed a strong drink right now.
He finally made it to the table, and he glanced over the different assortments of refreshments. Everything looked very tasty. Then again, he wasn’t one to be picky when it came to food. Just as he reached for a plate, someone moved beside him and his arm bumped into another arm.
The Sweetest Secret Page 3