The Sweetest Secret

by Marie Higgins

  Slowly, the corners of his mouth lifted into a grin. “Have a pleasant evening, Tabitha.”

  He turned and walked away as if nothing happened. She grabbed the tree for support. What had happened to her knees? The cold must have numbed them somehow. She definitely needed to get inside, and she definitely needed to clear her head and put back the thoughts that should have been in there to begin with, but had somehow disappeared.

  Tomorrow she would be on guard and prepare herself for his charming seduction. She vowed he would not win!

  Chapter Eight

  A smile stayed on Dominic’s face as he sat at the desk in Frederick’s study, writing a letter to his friends Trey and Tristan. Six months ago when Nic had left Mayfair to come to North Devon, he’d let Trey and Tristan know he was leaving to help out family. They certainly wouldn’t believe what Nic had to do in order to help his cousin.

  He didn’t say much in his letter, but asked how Tabitha was doing. He tried not to leave any hints that she was even here in North Devon. Hopefully, his friends would update him on her life since it was apparent she wasn’t living the same way when he’d last seen her.

  Last night’s little meeting by the tree went well. She was the stubborn woman he remembered, but her vivid eyes gave away what emotion she struggled with whenever he was around. She still desired him, he could tell. That tidbit of information made him happier than he really should be right now. Nonetheless, he was overjoyed at seeing her eyes dance with uncertainty, and hearing her ragged breaths when he had moved close to her and touched her cheek.

  Because of that, he was encouraged to continue his plan of softening her heart. Today for lunch he would do his best to show her the real Dominic Lawrence. Usually he was able to make women melt quickly, and although Tabitha resisted, he believed she was worth the effort. The end result would be most fulfilling.

  He finished and folded up the pages, putting his seal on the outside. As he cleared up his writing utensils, Frederick walked in and sat across the desk. The expression on his face told Nic his cousin wanted a serious discussion. Nic would rather not participate since his mood was light and happy, but he’d oblige his cousin, anyway.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Frederick began.

  “Yes, it does look like you have much on your mind.” Nic leaned back in the chair, laced his fingers together and rested them on his chest.

  “Something doesn’t add up about Mr. Jacobs and his daughter’s accident yesterday.”

  “What confuses you?”

  Frederick scratched his chin. “The hole in the sand. Because of where the spot was so close to the tide, the hole should have been filled in quickly—within hours. That tells me the hole was freshly dug.”

  It took Nic a couple of seconds to toss this around in his mind, and by Jove, Frederick was right. “What do you think this means?”

  “I’m not certain, but it’s definitely unusual.”

  “Indeed, it is. Would you like me to check on it this afternoon?”

  Frederick shook his head. “I don’t think you’ll find anything. Like I’d mentioned before, the hole would have been filled in by now because of the tides.”

  “Hmm…” Nic tapped his forefinger on his chin. “Perhaps the good clergyman should pay Mr. Jacobs a visit to see if the blacksmith or his daughter recalls seeing anyone that morning?”

  “Now that’s a very good idea.” Frederick’s eyes enlarged. “Maybe Mr. Jacobs had seen something, but isn’t quite certain what he saw.”

  “Do you think this might have something to do with the thief we are after?”

  “I can only suspect, but no matter, it’s very odd and worth looking into. Do you not agree?”

  “Very much.” Nic nodded. “Did you find anything noteworthy last night while you were out spying on people?”

  “Nothing. Thankfully, nothing was stolen from the church, either.”

  “You know, I was wondering about the last robbery you had. Was there anything suspicious or laying around after the thieves had left?”

  “No. I’ve gone over that night in my mind several times, already.” Frederick rubbed his forehead. “If I hadn’t stumbled over the bench, I could have caught them.”

  “Yes, I remember you telling me. But everything happens for a reason, you know.”

  “Indeed, it does. However, it still bothers me to think I was so close to those men and I couldn’t stop them.”

  “How many were there again?” Nic wondered.

  “Two. Although,” Frederick paused for a few seconds, “I recall one of the men falling down the back steps. Of course that was when I was detained by the bench, and by the time I reached the door, both of them were gone.”

  Nic arched an eyebrow. “One fell, you say?”

  “Yes.”

  “By chance, do you recall anyone who came to church after that who was limping?”

  Frederick’s eyes grew large. “I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of that before. I’ll certainly have to ponder harder about it today.”

  Nic shrugged. “At least it will give you some kind of clue to build on.”

  “I sincerely hope it will.” He nodded. “You still need to ask around, especially ask Mr. Jacobs and his daughter about this morning.”

  “I plan on doing it today.” Nic smiled. “However I’ll have to do it after the noon meal. I have arranged a luncheon with a lovely lady.”

  “You have?” Slowly Frederick rose from the table and stood, but his stare remained on Nic.

  “Yes. I shall be meeting with Miss Tabitha.”

  “Dominic,” Frederick’s voice had a warning tone to it. “You will be playing me, remember?”

  “Of course I remember. However, she knows the truth now. She guessed it last night while I was dining with her aunt.”

  “Oh, dear. That cannot be good.” Shaking his head, Frederick paced the floor, taking measured steps. “What if she tells her aunt or Mrs. Stiles? What if they notice how she treats you?” He pushed his fingers through his crop of dark brown hair that held streaks or gray.

  “My dear cousin.” Nic stepped around the desk and stopped Frederick by placing a hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “That’s the very reason I’m meeting her in private. I need to explain to her what we are doing and why. I believe that she will understand and will work with us.”

  “Can she be trusted?”

  Nic rolled his eyes. “Of course she can.”

  “But you had mistakenly accused her of murder, so she must have had some qualities to make you suspicious.”

  “Please, Frederick, don’t bring that up again. What happened in the past was my blunder entirely. Tabitha is an honest person and will not say or do anything to foil our plans, I assure you.”

  Frederick stared at Nic for the longest time, and he wondered what questions where passing through his cousin’s head. Nic couldn’t allow Frederick to question Tabitha. She was a trustworthy person, and he wished he’d realized this when they had first met. It would have saved him a lot of heartache.

  Finally, Frederick nodded. “Fine, but if anything happens with her, I’m blaming you.”

  “I’ll gladly take the blame, but nothing will go wrong.” Nic ended the conversation with a nod, and then proceeded to walk out of the room and into the kitchen.

  He stopped in the middle of the floor and glanced around at the cupboards. Almost two months ago, Frederick had sent his cook on holiday so that nobody would know about Nic and Frederick’s switch. They still had a laundry maid do their washing once a week, but she never came into the house because Frederick took the clothes to her.

  Because they’d been without servants, Frederick and Nic had struggled to learn how to cook by themselves. Thankfully, their friendly neighbors had invited them to dinner quite a bit.

  Now Nic was determined to make lunch for him and Tabitha. He really wasn’t very good at it, but it wasn’t for a lack of trying. However, he figured he could put some meats, cheeses, bread, and fruit together. In
the process, he hoped to impress her with his knowledge. Certainly she would be surprised to know he didn’t need a servant for everything.

  He stood in the kitchen, staring at the ice box. The bread, meat, and cheese were easy to find, but where would he get the fruit? If he remembered correctly, strawberries would be coming in season soon, if they weren’t already. Frederick had a nice garden area that the neighbors helped keep growing for him, so Nic was certain there would be strawberries out back.

  He hurried around the kitchen to collect the things he needed, and then stacked them in a basket. He was certain the abandoned cottage still had table and chairs, so he wasn’t worried about bringing a blanket for them to sit on.

  Satisfied with what he’d accomplished so far—and by himself, no less—he grabbed a bowl and went outside in back to find some strawberries. A light wind blew from the east, making the temperature cooler than expected. He glanced up in the sky. Dark clouds formed slowly. Nic groaned. Soon, a storm would be coming. With any luck, it would arrive later in the day.

  He found the strawberry plants, picked a bunch, and placed them in the bowl. Once he had enough, he rushed back inside to wash them and pat them dry. Then he placed them in the basket with the rest of the food.

  A sense of achievement burst in his chest, and he smiled. This was his first time preparing a meal by himself, and he had to admit it wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be. Still, he couldn’t help but appreciate the servants.

  Time crept by as he waited for the noon hour to approach. He tried to read a book from Frederick’s library, but after checking the clock every ten minutes, Nic realized he wasn’t reading at all, only skimming over the words, so he closed the book.

  The more he checked out the window to see how the weather was progressing, the quicker the storm clouds formed, and the wind had picked up. It still didn’t look as if it would rain on him, so everything was still going forward as planned.

  Nic dressed in his own clothes for this meeting with Tabitha. He not only wanted to look like himself, but he wanted to feel like Dominic Lawrence, the Marquis of Hawthorne. The weather would keep most people inside, and if he wore his raincoat and top hat, he was certain nobody would know it was him and not Frederick.

  Ten minutes before the noon hour, he slipped on his raincoat and hat, grabbed the basket and stepped outside. A drizzle of rain fell on him, and he groaned. His first reaction was to become upset, but then he realized this would be perfect for his afternoon enjoyment. The light moisture would keep curious townsfolk from venturing outside and it would keep his lovely Tabitha inside the abandoned cottage, exactly where he wanted her to be. It would be difficult to convince her of his sincerity, to be sure, but the longer he could get her to stay in their secluded hideaway, the more he could work his charms on her.

  At first he tried to act as if carrying a basket was a normal routine for him, and he casually made his way up the street toward the opposite side of town, but after a few minutes, the rain fell faster and he wished he’d brought along his umbrella. Soon, he was quickening his pace and hustling up the side street that was on an incline. The road became slick with water and his boots slipped a few times. He contemplated walking in the grass, but he realized that would only make his boots wetter and more slippery.

  A disturbing thought struck him just as he neared the abandoned cottage…what if the rain kept Tabitha from venturing out, as well? It was possible. After all, what excuse could she give her aunt and Mrs. Stiles for taking a stroll on a rainy day?

  As he reached the door, his hopes sank. She wouldn’t be here. No woman, no matter how enamored she was with him, would go out in this weather to meet him in private. And because Tabitha was not smitten with him, she wouldn’t be here.

  He stopped on the porch and glanced down the hillside. Not one person was out and about. Apparently, he was the only fool outside at this time. Well, he’d go inside the cottage and wait out the storm, then return home. It would probably be best to eat the food he’d prepared in the basket. It would give him something to do while he waited for the perfect time to leave.

  He jiggled the door handle, but it was locked. Frowning, he studied the door and the places around the porch, hoping there would be a key somewhere close by. But after a few minutes of not finding one, he shrugged. He’d try the back door and if that was locked, he’d trudge back through the rain and return home.

  As he turned to step off the porch, the door handle rattled, followed by a squeak. Panicked of someone actually still living there, he whipped his head toward the opening door and held his breath. At first he didn’t see anyone, but seconds later, a woman’s head—still wearing a white bonnet—peeked through the shadows. Big, curious blue eyes met his gaze. Recognition must have struck her because she expelled a relieved sigh.

  “Oh, it’s you,” Tabitha exclaimed. “I wondered if someone was trying to break in.”

  The sight of her calmed his nerves, and he grinned. “Break in? Like we are doing?”

  “Yes, exactly.” She opened the door wider for him to enter.

  “How did you get in?” He walked in and she closed the door behind him.

  “The back door was unlocked.”

  “I was about to go around when you opened the door for me.” He placed the basket on the floor, and then shrugged out of his raincoat. That was when he noticed the bare room. Not a stitch of furniture. Even the grate from the fireplace had been removed. He glanced at Tabitha who was removing her bonnet. She still wore her gray rain-cloak. “How long have you been here?”

  “Only a few minutes.” She shook the moisture off her bonnet.

  He glanced at the wall by the door. “There isn’t even a place to hang my coat.”

  “There are a few nails in the wall right there.” She pointed. “Shall we see if they are strong enough to hold our coats?

  “We can certainly try it.” He adjusted his coat over the nail until it settled in place. Returning his gaze to her, he noticed her lovely long-sleeve lavender dress with a beige lace over-skirt. Once again, he was reminded what a beautiful woman she was, and her fancier clothes brightened her face more than the servant’s dresses he’d seen her in before.

  “Here,” he said, taking her cloak, “let me hang that for you.”

  “Thank you.” She handed him her bonnet to place on another nail. Thankfully, it stayed there.

  He sighed. “Well, now. I wonder what the kitchen looks like.”

  “Just as bare, I’m afraid.”

  He headed to the other room with her following. Once he entered the kitchen, he stopped short. Only one chair was left in the room, and it looked almost too rickety to sit upon. He scanned the floor and cringed. Disgusting!

  Shaking his head, he groaned. “I must apologize, Tabitha.” He met her gaze as she stood next to him. “A little over a month ago, the place actually had furniture.”

  “Indeed?” She arched an eyebrow. “Am I to assume this isn’t your first time meeting a woman here for a little privacy?”

  He didn’t enjoy the snicker of her voice or the accusation written on her face. Soon, he’d change her mind about him, he was certain. “If you must know, I was with my cousin, Frederick. We were visiting some people in the parish and he wanted to check this house out because he knew the man who’d lived here had moved out.”

  “Oh.” Her cheeks stained with a pink color. “If that is the case, I wonder why the place is stripped bare now.”

  “I’m wondering the same.” He glanced toward the stairs. “It makes me wonder if the rooms upstairs are also free of furniture.”

  She motioned her arm. “Shall we investigate, then?”

  “Yes, we shall.” He pointed ahead of him. “After you, my lovely.”

  Her gaze stayed on him long enough for him to see her roll her eyes. He held in the chuckle that wanted to escape his throat. He’d make sure she’d come to like that endearment.

  Tabitha lifted her dress to her ankles as she climbed each stair. B
ehind her, Nic couldn’t keep his focus off the way her dress clung to her calves and top of her boots. Once again, it struck him odd to see such fancy footwear on her when she’d been a maid not more than six months ago. Perhaps he could convince her into sharing with him what had happened to bring her into some money.

  They reached the top floor and he moved to walk beside her. As they passed each room, they peeked inside. Nothing but dirt coated the floors. The last room they stopped at had several footprints in the dust near the corner by the window.

  “How very curious,” Tabitha said.

  “I agree. I’ll be certain to inform my cousin of our findings. This definitely has me perplexed.”

  “Do you think the matter needs further investigation from the magistrate?” She tilted her head as she kept her eyes on him.

  “Indeed, I do. If this house had furniture not more than six weeks ago, and the owner is not living here now, where has everything disappeared to?”

  “It does look suspicious.” She nodded.

  “I agree.”

  “Well,” she sighed heavily, “shall we return downstairs to see what we can eat for lunch?”

  He gave a light chuckle. “I do have our meal prepared, but now I’m wondering where we can eat it.” He led them back down the hall. “When I was here last, there was a table and chairs.”

  “That does present a problem.” She started down the stairs first. “I suppose we could use the chair to be our table, and we’ll have to sit on the floor while we eat.”

  Nic groaned under his breath. That option was out of the question. How could she ask a man of his status to sit on a dirty floor? As soon as the thought passed through his mind, he had the answer. Tabitha was a servant. She had sat on dirty floors before, so to her, this was a simple solution. If Nic tried to argue, would she think less of him than she did already? Of course, she would. So, in order to make peace with her, he must act as if the thought didn’t disgust him.

  “Or perhaps,” he said, “we could keep the food in the basket and you could sit on the chair. I shall lay my coat on the ground as somewhat of a covering, and sit on it.”