“Oh, forgive me—” He paused, staring into the most amazing eyes he’d ever seen.
Tabitha gasped and withdrew her arm. “No, it was my fault, entirely. Please excuse me, Mr. Woodland.”
He reached over and grabbed a plate, then handed it to her. “Here you are, Miss Tabitha. I’m assuming this was what you were after?”
“Yes.”
“Do you mind if I chat with you while I fix my plate?”
She laughed. “Of course not. Why would I mind?”
“Splendid.” He picked up a plate for himself. “I have noticed you are making friends quickly. These people are very kind, don’t you agree?”
“Indeed, I do, Mr. Woodland.”
Silence stretched between them as they placed food items on their plates. Tabitha kept glancing his way, but only briefly. Finally, she cleared her throat and faced him.
“Mr. Woodland, I really need to thank you for saving me earlier. I have never been placed in that kind of situation, and well…I wasn’t sure how to act.”
“I could tell how uncomfortable you were. Believe it or not, I hadn’t planned on singing the song, so when I belted out the words, it rather shocked me as well.”
She shrugged. “I couldn’t tell. You have a very lovely singing voice.”
“So do you.” He tilted his head, staring deeper into her eyes. “Tell me, where did you learn to sing? I assure you, I have not heard a more exquisite voice before—and being a clergyman, I have had the privilege to hear a lot of people sing.” He winked.
She stared at him blankly for a few awkward seconds before her expression turned to suspicion. He sucked in a quick breath. What had he done? Did she finally recognize the man talking to her now?
* * * *
Unease ran through Tabitha. Why did this man create such confusion in her head? He seemed nice enough. Her aunt’s guests acted as if they adored him. Yet Tabitha sensed something was off about him. He gave her the impression that he was somehow…fake.
Odd that she would think that when she didn’t know him well enough to judge.
But it was his wink that sent shivers over her. At the moment, she couldn’t tell if they were shivers of disgust, or delight. Nevertheless, she couldn’t dwell upon it. She must treat Mr. Woodland kindly and with respect since everyone else approved of him.
“You flatter me too much, Mr. Woodland. I’ve never had singing lessons. Well, not professionally, that is. My mother is the one who taught me how to sing.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Indeed? Well, then you truly have a talent beyond compare.”
Heat consumed her face. She really hated it when people made her blush. “Thank you, again. I do recall that my mother had the perfect singing voice.”
The clergyman placed another sweetmeat on his plate. “Tell me about your mother, Miss Tabitha. She sounds like a true angel.”
Tabitha smiled. “She was indeed. She died when I was in my sixteenth year.” She released a heavy sigh. “I miss her so much.”
“Forgive me if I brought back bad memories for you. That was not my intention.”
“I know.” She shook her head. “I don’t have any bad memories of my mother, only pleasant ones. I just wish she hadn’t died so young.”
“I do understand what you’re feeling. Death is not something anybody wishes on people, yet it’s a part of life. Unfortunately, we all must experience the pain of losing someone sooner or later.”
“Yes, we must. How else would we know happiness, if we have never felt sorrow?”
Suddenly, the color of his eyes softened—if that were at all possible—and he stroked his hand over his hairy chin. Another chill swept through her, and she wanted to scream with frustration. Why was she like this?
“Such a profound thing to say, Miss Tabitha, but you are correct.” He cocked his head. “Perhaps you would like to give a sermon one of these Sundays about that topic?”
She laughed loudly then quickly slapped a hand over her mouth. Shaking her head, she lowered her hand. “Oh, Mr. Woodland. You are very humorous. There’s no way I’m qualified to give sermons. I’ll leave that in your capable hands.” She held up her palm. “As you can see, these hands are not saintly.”
When he grasped her hand gently, her heart nearly stopped. Why had he touched her so personally? Yet, his eyes darkened with a familiarity that she didn’t understand, and he brushed his thumb across her palm, her heartbeat quickened. The feeling was quite disturbing.
“Forgive me for saying, Miss Tabitha, but they look perfect to me.”
Oh heavens! Why did he say that? And for goodness sake, why did her heart continue to speed up? This was not good!
“Uh, thank you, Mr. Woodland.” Slowly, she slid her hand away from his touch. “But I still don’t think your parish would agree to having someone like me teach them about God.”
“And why not? Are we not all God’s children?”
She suppressed a growl of frustration. Quickly, she reasoned that he was just making small talk and that was the reason he kept pressing the issue. She gave him her best smile, even if it was forced. “Indeed we are, but some of us are more qualified for giving sermons than others.”
His chest shook with a light chuckle and his eyes sparkled. As before, the feeling of familiarity came over her. Did she know him? She must. Yet she didn’t have any opportunities in her life to mingle with ministers.
“Mr. Woodland, it has been very nice talking with you, but I should go see how my aunt is doing.”
“Of course you should. Perhaps I shall see you again on Sunday?”
She didn’t want to tell him she hadn’t attended church since right after her mother died, but she feared it would lead him into giving her a sermon right then and there. Besides that, she was certain Aunt Clara and Mrs. Stiles would want her to go with them. “Yes, I’ll be there.”
“Marvelous. Then I bid you goodbye until Sunday. I’m already looking forward to hearing you sing.” He winked.
He did it again! Why did he keep winking? And why did she feel as if she knew him?
Without another word, she turned and headed toward Sally who stood alone in the corner of the room, keeping her eyes on everyone as if waiting to assist them. Taking slow steps, Tabitha tried to recall all the men she’d met who winked at her, but she didn’t remember any.
Well, there was Lord Hawthorne, that insufferable man! He treated her like a princess at times, only to throw it back in her face and accuse her of murder. She didn’t know what happened to him, but she hoped he was rotting in hell right now.
Suddenly, images of Dominic’s face flashed in her mind. His smile, his laugh, and that flirtatious wink that she would never forget would always make her insides tremble. And of course, there was that constant twinkle in his eyes that could give his identity away.
She spun around and looked for the clergyman. He had moved away from the refreshment table and stood with a few other men, listening to what they were saying. His smile expanded and he threw back his head and laughed loudly.
Shivers climbed through her as if they were on fire. There was no mistaking her reactions now. She knew why she was so confused. Mr. Woodland was Lord Hawthorne!
But what in heaven’s name was he doing dressed like a man of God?
Chapter Four
Tabitha paced the length of her bedroom, clenching her hands into fists and then relaxing them. Last night’s party had been a success, according to Aunt Clara, but Tabitha didn’t see it that way. To her, it was nothing but a night of confusion.
Was Mr. Woodland really Dominic Lawrence, Marquis of Hawthorne? Last night, she’d studied him closely to see if her suspicions were correct, but within an hour he’d made his excuses and left the party. She dared not say anything to Sally. Her maid worried constantly, and because of what happened with them and their friend Diana, Tabitha knew Sally wouldn’t react well if she thought Lord Hawthorne was close by.
Unfortunately, the past was something Tabitha couldn’t
erase or shove out of her mind. Both she and Sally had been abused in the worst way by Lord Elliot when they’d worked for him. There were numerous times she’d wanted to kill him with her bare hands, and when she’d heard of his death, she hadn’t been saddened in the least. True, she hadn’t killed the lord herself, but in her heart she’d wished for it.
Did that make her a sinner? If so, then she would certainly go straight to hell.
She moved to the window and pulled open the curtains. Another sunny day welcomed her, and she wished she could take Sally and walk through the parks, or even down by the beach. But this thing with Lord Hawthorne greatly disturbed her, and she didn’t dare venture outside just in case she ran into him. The way she was feeling right now, she worried what would come out of her mouth if they met up again.
If the clergyman was indeed Dominic, why the charade for heaven’s sake? There was no way the rogue she knew could become a clergyman within half of a year. If indeed, this was Nic, he must be in hiding. And blast it all, but she wanted to find out why.
She turned away from the window and walked to the door. This room was getting smaller by the minute and if she stayed in here another minute, she’d scream.
Downstairs in the sitting room, Aunt Clara and Mrs. Stiles were taking tea when Tabitha entered. The older women lifted their gaze to her and smiled.
“Come in my dear,” Aunt Clara invited. “I’m happy to see you are an early riser.”
“How could I not be?” Tabitha moved to them and sat next to her aunt on the sofa. “Most of my life I’ve been a maid and had to get up before anyone in the household.”
Aunt Clara tapped her hand on Tabitha’s knee. “There’s nothing wrong with that, and don’t you let anyone tell you differently.”
“I won’t.” She smiled lovingly at her relative, suddenly wishing she could go back in time to when she was a little girl and still living with her mother. There was some resemblance between her aunt and her mother. Tabitha supposed if her mother had lived to be as old as Clara, she would look the same. “I will always know that my trials have made me a stronger person.”
“Indeed they have.” Aunt Clara sipped her tea. “Do you and Sally have anything planned today?”
“Nothing at all. What could we have planned when we don’t know what North Devon holds for us to see?”
“Oh, my dear.” Aunt Clara gasped and met her companion’s stare. “We need to find someone to take our Tabitha and Sally on a sight-seeing tour. Do you not agree?”
“Most assuredly.” Mrs. Stiles nodded so fast, her cap bounced on her head.
“Oh, I think I know just the person.” Aunt Clara placed her hand on her chest, sighed and looked back at Tabitha. “I noticed last night that Mr. Jacobs was paying you extra attention. I’m sure he’d love to take you around town.”
Tabitha opened her mouth to speak, but Mrs. Stiles cut in.
“Oh, but Clara, dear…did you not see he has injured his leg? He was leaning on a crutch last night. I don’t think he would be the right man to escort our dear Tabitha around.”
Tabitha shook her head. “Mr. Jacobs is a very nice man, but I must agree with Mrs. Stiles.”
“Then that won’t do at all.” Aunt Clara huffed and folded her hands in her lap. “Bertha, dear? Who else do we know who could escort our girls around?”
Mrs. Stiles tapped a finger to her chin as she stared at the tea service on the table in front of them. Her forehead creased as a frown deepened on her mouth.
Tabitha, hurried and spoke before the other woman could come up with another name. “Actually, I don’t believe Sally and I need to have an escort. We both love to walk, and we could wander through the town—“
“I have it!” Bertha interrupted. Her face beamed with excitement as a smile stretched across her face. “What about Mr. Woodland? He would be a splendid tour guide. He’s only been here less than a year, but he walks everywhere, and he knows the town well.”
Clamping her mouth tight, Tabitha’s thoughts came to a sudden halt. Mr. Woodland has lived in North Devon for less than a year? That can’t be right, especially when she met Lord Hawthorne in York approximately six months ago. So when Bertha said less than a year, what were the exact months?
Aunt Clara nodded, her ringlets shaking with the rhythm of the old woman’s head. “Yes, Bertha. That’s the perfect choice.” She looked back at Tabitha. “He’s such a wonderful man, and last night when he sang to me,” she placed her hand on her bosom and sighed, “what a lovely voice he has. Indeed, I could have listened to him all night.”
“Actually, Clara,” Bertha reached across the table and touched Clara’s arm, “the way it looked to me was that he was singing to our Tabitha.” She wagged her eyebrows.
Tabitha wanted to groan aloud, but refrained for now. “I must admit, Mr. Woodland is a very nice man, and yes, he does have a pleasant singing voice, but Sally and I don’t need an escort. I assure you, we shall be fine by ourselves.”
“Nonsense.” Aunt Clara flipped her hand in the air. “You will need someone who can assist you up and down the rocky slopes near the beach. I wouldn’t feel right if you tried to climb those hills without a man present. It’s very easy to slip and fall.”
“Oh, Aunt Clara…really.” Tabitha shook her head. “Must I keep reminding you, I’m not a pampered, genteel lady who can’t climb up and down? I’m used to hard labor, which means, I’m stronger than you think.”
“Tabitha dear, that’s not the point.” Clara sighed as her smile slowly faded. “You’re not a servant any longer, so why not allow a man to treat you like a lady? Now is a good time to start, you know.”
Shaking her head, Tabitha wanted to throw her hands up in surrender. Obviously, arguing with her aunt wasn’t getting her anywhere. What a stubborn woman. And here Tabitha thought she was stubborn. Now she knew where she had inherited it.
“So, I do believe,” Clara continued, “that Mr. Woodland would be the best choice.”
Tabitha sat back in the sofa and folded her arms. “Tell me, Aunt Clara, what do you really know about Mr. Woodland?”
“I know quite a bit.”
“Such as?”
“He’s in his late twenties, or perhaps early thirties, and he was married, but his wife and child died during childbirth. He has a heart of gold, and he’s truly a messenger of God. This whole town is his family, and he would give the shirt off his back just to help someone in need.”
Tabitha frowned. Perhaps this man wasn’t Lord Hawthorne after all. Yet, that didn’t explain why he looked so much like Dominic and acted like him enough to make her body shiver with awareness. Things didn’t add up. “Do you know if he has any relatives in York? He looks familiar to me, somehow.”
Both Clara and Bertha glanced at each other and grinned. “He does have relatives in York,” Clara answered. “A few months ago, his cousin came for a visit.”
“What a nice gentleman.” Mrs. Stiles sighed. “And such a charmer, too. He was here for quite a few months, wasn’t he, Clara?”
Aunt Clara nodded. “Five, I believe, but left not too long ago.”
“Who was his cousin?” Tabitha asked.
“He’s a lord.” Clara tapped her fingers on the table. “A marquis, I believe.”
“That he was, my dear.” Bertha bobbed her head.
Tabitha’s heart picked up rhythm. What were the odds… “His name wouldn’t have been Lord Hawthorne, would it?”
Aunt Clara sighed. “Yes, that’s his name. Nice man, just like his cousin.”
“Oh, Clara dear, do you recall when Lord Hawthorne was the center of attention at Miss Julia’s birthday party.” Bertha chuckled. “The whole town celebrated her eighteenth birthday, and when Mr. Woodland arrived with his cousin, all the single women at the gathering were stuck to his side. I daresay the man is a bit of a charmer, and had all those women sighing. I’m quite sure they were all hoping he’d stay with his cousin for an indefinite amount of time, too.”
Of cou
rse Hawthorne was a charmer. Tabitha gritted her teeth. Obviously, the man hasn’t changed a bit.
When the two old women began gossiping about Dominic’s exploits, Tabitha rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to hear what woman he seduced and who in town was in hopes of getting an offer of marriage. However, while her aunt and Bertha conversed, this gave Tabitha time to think. Perhaps she was mistaken about Mr. Woodland after all. If they were indeed cousins, they probably shared similar features, which was why she thought it was Nic. It was a little eerie that his eyes would twinkle like Nic’s, and he’d wink and laugh like his cousin, but perhaps that’s exactly why she thought they were the same man.
She just wished that would explain why her body reacted to the clergyman when before only Nic had made her body come alive in such a way.
* * * *
Dominic resisted the urge to kill his cousin, but he was still very upset at the man when he had returned home. Frederick was sneaking around town to do some spying, which gave Nic time to think…and fall asleep.
This morning he awoke feeling slightly better, but still annoyed, nonetheless. Panic was another emotion swimming through him right now, which he didn’t like at all. A few times during the evening, Tabitha had acted as if she knew his true identity. Yet, she didn’t say anything. The woman he knew from six months ago would have confronted him immediately.
Perhaps this was what confused him more than anything.
Nic waited at the breakfast table for Frederick to awaken. Their discussion could not be put off a moment longer. By the creaks from the ceiling, Nic guessed that Frederick was up.
Drumming his fingers on the table, he sipped his coffee as he silently grumbled for something stronger to drink. But even Lord Hawthorne didn’t drink spirits this early in the morning. If only he was back home, he’d be doing so many things differently. This country life was definitely not doing anything for Nic’s sanity.
The Sweetest Secret Page 4