“Uh…” Nic glanced down at Tabitha, who he was still practically laying on. Her eyes were now wide and the color was leaving her pretty face again. But this time, he knew it was for different reasons. Drat! He needed to say something quickly.
“Um, Miss Tabitha? Oh, thank heavens.” He slowly lifted himself off her, but rested on his knees. “You’re breathing. I thought you had—had—” He made his voice choke on purpose as he blinked back pretend tears. At least he’d hoped the onlookers thought that he was trying not to cry.
Taking a deep breath, she nodded and placed her hand to her bosom. “Yes, Mr. Woodland. I’m breathing fine now. I thank you for rescuing me.” She struggled to sit up, so he helped by taking her arm and pulling her to an upright position. She glanced at the people around them. “I’m fine now, thanks to Mr. Woodland.”
Sighs of relief passed through the crowd. Some people even stepped forward to pat Nic on the shoulder and congratulate him. Soon, they started leaving, but the two older women remained, unmoving…and gaping. Nic wanted to hand them back their noses and tell them to keep it out of his business, but he was supposed to be the kind, forgiving, clergyman, and Frederick would never say such a thing to these women.
He stood and brushed off the sand from his trousers. “Allow me to help you up.” He reached his hand for Tabitha to grab.
“I thank you, again.” She clutched his hand and stood. She released him and swiped the water off her face and hair. “I…I don’t know what happened.” She glanced at the ocean, shaking her head. “I was wading through the water, and the next thing I knew a wave had hit me and pulled me under.”
“It was the most frightening thing I’d ever seen,” Mrs. Smythe said, breathless.
“Indeed, it was.” Nic nodded. “I saw her go under, and I didn’t know if I would be able to reach her soon enough.”
“But Mr. Woodland,” Miss Talbot spoke softly, “I thought you told us you couldn’t swim. Yet,” she pointed toward the water, “I watched you swim out to Miss Paget.”
Growling under his breath, he glanced at Tabitha. Her eyes were large and frightened. He was going to ruin the disguise, he just knew it. Yet, it had been worth it to save Tabitha.
“Oh, my,” Tabitha gasped. “Mr. Woodland, you don’t suppose…”
Confused, he shook his head, wishing he could read her thoughts right now. “What?”
“Do you suppose the Lord had wanted you to save me, so He helped you to swim because you don’t know how?”
He wanted to hug her for her quick thinking. He’d do it later when they were in a private setting.
Sucking in a quick breath, he laid on the dramatics, mainly for the two older women. He glanced up into the sky and steepled his fingers against his lips. “Miss Tabitha, I believe we have all witnessed a miracle just now.” He swallowed hard. “Thank you, Lord, for strengthening our faith.”
When he finally tore his gaze away from the heavens and looked at Miss Talbot and her sister, he was relieved to see they wore different expression. Apparently, they had believed the ruse and figured they had just been witness to a miracle. But in truth, this had been a miracle. God had helped Nic to find Tabitha and save her.
“Miss Tabitha?” he asked, turning his attention back to her. “I think I should get you home before you catch a chill.”
Nodding, she wrapped her arms around her chest, hugging herself. “Yes, I believe that’s wise.”
He bowed to the two older women. “If you will excuse us.”
“Of course, Mr. Woodland. Take care, Miss Paget.”
He found the clergyman coat and draped it over Tabitha’s shoulders. Before leaving, he scooped up his cravat and folded it.
Both he and Tabitha’s steps were hurried as they headed toward Mrs. Burls. When he knew they were far enough away from curious ears, he said softly, “I’m so very grateful I was able to get to you in time.” He glanced at her.
She sneaked a peek, but then quickly looked back at the road. “Nic, you…you almost caused suspicion.” She looked at him again; her gaze slowly wandering over his wet shirt that melded to his frame. “I think Mrs. Smythe and her sister will be thinking of you differently now. Unless of course, your cousin is as muscular as you are.”
Chuckling, he shook his head. “No, Frederick is not. I do realize that I could have given away my true identity, but…I had to save you. I don’t know what I would have done if you had—” His voiced choked for real this time, and he breathed deeply, calming his emotions. “I would do it again in a heartbeat, my lovely. I’d do anything to protect you.”
“Thank you, Nic. I—I—don’t know how to thank you enough.”
“Well, for now, just resting and not becoming sick will be thanks enough.”
When she glanced at him again, he winked. A smile tugged on the corners of her mouth. Heavens, he loved seeing her this way. “Is the luncheon still planned for this afternoon, or do you think your aunt will cancel it now?”
She shook her head. “I won’t let her cancel it.”
When he walked her to the doorstep, he stopped and faced her. “Then I’ll see you this afternoon.”
“Yes.” She shrugged out of his coat and handed it back to him.
He bowed. “Until later, then.”
He turned and strolled back toward the street. He didn’t hear her open the door, so he knew she was watching him. Happiness grew in his chest and he nearly burst with excitement. Perhaps she’d now realize how much he had changed, and in doing so, her heart would soften and allow him to court her properly.
In due time, he told himself. Everything would work out, he was certain of it.
* * * *
With her hair dry and restyled, and wearing another dress, Tabitha perched upon the edge of the chair, sitting with a straight back and hands folded in her lap as she conversed with Mr. Jacobs. She’d tried to relate what had happened to her this morning without worrying the elder ladies, but Aunt Clara was in a dither. Even Mrs. Stiles wanted to cancel their afternoon activities, but Tabitha wouldn’t have it. She felt well enough to have company. Not only that, she needed a distraction from her confused thoughts.
Before today, she was determined to put Nic from her mind. She’d convinced herself that his feelings for her weren’t real. Yet this morning’s rescue only proved to her that she didn’t know what to think of Lord Hawthorne.
The tenderness and care in his eyes had been real. His endearing words made her heart clench, and she wanted to cry. And he risked exposing his true identity to save her…yet he wasn’t upset over it, either.
She inhaled an uneven breath. Oh, why couldn’t her heart and her mind meet so that she wasn’t so torn over this?
She focused back on Mr. Jacobs, smiling her best for him. Even through all of this turmoil, she still felt Nic’s station in life was too above hers, and it would be hopeless to dream of a life with him.
No matter, she must see if she and Mr. Jacobs suited. Tabitha was saddened when he’d told her his daughter had caught a chill and couldn’t attend the luncheon. Nevertheless, she’d get to know Mr. Jacobs a little better without his daughter present.
For some reason, he seemed more charming today. Tabitha wasn’t sure if it was because she decided to give this man a chance to impress her, or if Mr. Jacobs was actually different from the man she’d talked with before. Either way, he made her laugh, and at this time in her life, that was something she needed.
Nic makes me laugh, too… Quickly, she stopped the thought from going any farther. It wasn’t wise to have such hopes.
Unfortunately, Aunt Clara and Mrs. Stiles didn’t look very happy with the attention she gave to Mr. Jacobs. They both sat on opposite chairs, watching her closely with critical eyes. Whenever Mr. Jacobs said something to them or glanced their way, they’d quickly change their dark expressions to a happy one. But the second he took his focus off them, their analytical stares returned.
It worried Tabitha that Mr. Jacobs would see—or feel—the
uneasy current in the room, but he was polite and didn’t say anything. He didn’t even act uncomfortable, for which Tabitha was relieved.
Her gaze moved to the door. Where was Nic? She expected him to arrive early for the luncheon, mainly because of the way he’d acted this morning. Although he knew she was fine, she thought for sure he’d still come to check on her.
Concern rooted deep into her chest. Had something bad happened to him? Hopefully, he hadn’t caught a chill from rescuing her. Or perhaps his lateness stemmed from something else. After all, he and his cousin were looking for a thief. What if something unexpected happened? What if Nic was lying injured somewhere and nobody knew?
The knock on the door startled her, and she jumped in her chair. Sally walked slowly into the hall and to the door and let Nic in. A mixture between happiness and relief rushed through Tabitha and she became anxious to see him again. She sat a little taller and smoothed her hands down her gold dress with white-laced bodice and underskirt. Nervously, she reached up to her ringlets before remembering she’d restyled her hair after her near-drowning experience. Instead, she had swept her hair into a chignon, and only wisps of curls hung near her ears.
From the hallway, Nic’s voice boomed through the air. Delightful shivers cascaded over her and she found herself smiling broader. She swallowed hard as butterflies danced in her stomach. When Sally showed him into the room, Tabitha’s heart melted. Just as handsome as always, his gaze locked immediately to hers and he smiled. In his hand, he gripped the stems of several blue irises. She hitched a breath. Had she ever told him that flower was her favorite?
“Oh, Mr. Woodland, you are here.” Aunt Clara stood and leaned heavily on her cane with one hand, while holding the other hand outstretched to Nic. “How glad I am to see you here, especially after this morning’s upset at the beach. And oh, look…you brought flowers.”
Nic walked to Aunt Clara and took her hand. “I know these flowers will never be as lovely as the women in this room, but I thought they came close.”
Mrs. Stiles giggled and Aunt Clara laughed. “Oh, Mr. Woodland. You are such a tease.” She gestured to Sally. “Would you please take these and place them in a vase?”
“As you wish.” Sally curtsied and then took the flowers from Nic before leaving the room.
When Nic took his focus off Aunt Clara and swept it around the room, it came to a startling halt on Mr. Jacobs. Nic’s eyes broadened and a faux smile touched his face.
“Ah, Mr. Jacobs. It’s good to see you again.”
“And it’s nice to see you too, Mr. Woodland. I heard you saved another person from drowning this morning. You have definitely been busy lately.”
Nic shook his head. “God had me in the right time at the right place.”
He moved to the other man who rose to his feet, and the two shook hands. Tabitha found it surprising that neither of them appeared to be very happy about seeing the other as they had proclaimed.
Once Nic released Mr. Jacob’s hand, he turned toward her. The irritation she’d detected in his gaze only moments ago had disappeared. His eyes twinkled in that familiar knee-weakening way.
“Good afternoon, Miss Paget. I see your lovely complexion is back and your blue eyes are looking more alert.” His gaze swept over her yet again. “And you appear much drier than the last time we spoke.”
Once more, his words melted her heart. “You are such a flatterer, Mr. Woodland.” She grinned, although she tried not to make it too big. “I am feeling better. I had worried you would be the one catching a chill.”
He shook his head. “I’m very well, thank you.”
“Well, now that we are all here,” Aunt Clara announced, “let’s adjourn to the veranda out back and partake of our luncheon.”
Mr. Woodland offered his arm to Aunt Clara, who beamed excitedly as she hooked her hand around his elbow. Mr. Jacobs quickly offered his arm to Tabitha, who accepted his escort. Mrs. Stiles and Sally strolled behind.
Although Tabitha could see her aunt talking to Nic, she couldn’t quite hear what they were saying. She just prayed he would stick to his promise and not make her aunt or Mrs. Stiles suspect anything was going on between her and the clergyman.
“Miss Paget,” Mr. Jacobs said softly.
She pulled her gaze away from the couple in front of her and focused on the man by her side. “Yes?”
“Mr. Woodland was right, you know. You are very lovely today.”
It wasn’t until now that she realized how brown his eyes really were—like melting pools of chocolate. She wasn’t naïve to the way he was peering at her. Most assuredly, he was interested in her. She just wished his gaze would warm her as Nic’s could.
“I thank you, Mr. Jacobs. You’re very kind.” She smiled. Perhaps it didn’t matter if her body had a different reaction with Mr. Jacobs than with Nic…Mr. Jacobs was still a kind man—a man closer to her station in life, she reminded herself.
The tables were set up under the canopy, blocking the sun from their food. Chairs were placed in a half circle around the veranda as well. The weather was perfect for an outdoor luncheon. No wind to disrupt their meal, and the temperature was warmer than it had been lately. Tabitha didn’t even need a shawl.
Tabitha filled her plate and found a chair. Within seconds, Mr. Jacob sat beside her. She glanced across the veranda at Nic, who was clearly watching her as he pretended to listen to the chattering Mrs. Stiles. Tabitha wasn’t certain if she liked the disapproving look he gave her, but she definitely enjoyed the jealousy he displayed.
“Miss Paget,” Mr. Jacobs said. “Would you tell me a little about yourself? Where did you grow up?”
She tore her attention from Nic and focused back on Mr. Jacobs. Smiling, she scrambled to think of something she could tell him. Was she ready to admit to being a servant all her life? Even though it was the truth, she worried about that dreaded question that would follow—about how she was able to overcome that status and be on her own without a husband to support her. She wasn’t ready to tell him—or anyone—about that secret.
“Most of my life, I worked beside my mother as a maid for a wealthy woman. We lived in York.” She shrugged. “I fear I don’t have a very exciting life to tell you about.”
“Is your mother still alive?”
She shook her head. “She died several years ago.”
He sipped his punch. “I take it you don’t still work for the wealthy woman any longer.”
“No, I don’t. Within this past…uh, year, my life has changed drastically. No longer do I have to work as a servant, thanks to my relatives.”
Mr. Jacobs glanced at Aunt Clara who was just settling into her cushioned chair as Nic assisted. Tabitha wondered if Nic had heard because he kept throwing glances at her. But most assuredly, Mr. Jacobs would assume her aunt was the family she’d referred to.
“Well, whatever it was that brought you to North Devon, I’m most grateful. I don’t think I have met anyone as gracious and sweet as you.”
“Again, I thank you for your kind words, Mr. Jacobs.”
“I hope you decide to stay in North Devon. I’m sure by now you can see it’s a more relaxed place to live than York.”
Chuckling, she nodded. “Indeed, it’s very relaxed here.”
Mrs. Stiles walked to the chair next to Mr. Jacobs. Just before reaching it, she stumbled and her foot kicked against Mr. Jacob’s ankle. Groaning, he quickly pulled it away, but his hand shot out to steady the older woman.
“Oh, forgive me, Mr. Jacobs. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She glanced at his foot. “Are you all right?”
“Not to worry, Mrs. Stiles. I’m on the mend.”
“Mr. Jacobs,” Nic said in a rush. “I thought it was your knee that you had injured.”
Nodding, Mr. Jacobs turned to look at Nic. “It was my knee.”
“But Mrs. Stiles bumped into your foot and you grimaced. Have you by chance, injured your ankle as well?”
During the disturbing pause, Tabitha gritte
d her teeth. What was Nic getting at now? His tone of voice was most accusing, too. She glanced at Mr. Jacobs who appeared at a loss for words. After a few awkward moments passed with nothing said, she held her breath. Was Nic precise in accusing Mr. Jacobs of something?
Chapter Eighteen
Nic waited patiently for Mr. Jacobs to answer, but as each second passed, curiosity built inside him. Mr. Jacobs was now climbing to the top of Nic’s suspect list of being the church’s thief.
Finally, the other man pulled back his shoulders and raised his chin stubbornly. “Mr. Woodland, I’m not quite certain what you’re asking. I had injured my knee while working in my barn, but not too long ago, I sprained my ankle as I tried to rescue my daughter when she fell in a hole.” He arched an eyebrow. “You were there and saved Joanna. Do you not remember?”
“Of course I remember.” Inwardly, Nic kicked himself for not remembering, but he wasn’t going to let Mr. Jacobs know.
“I had twisted my ankle at that time.” He glanced at Tabitha. “Miss Paget and her maid assisted me home because I had a hard time walking.”
“Forgive me then,” Nic said. “I didn’t realize your ankle was still sore.”
Mr. Jacobs shrugged. “It’s starting to feel better. However, whenever it’s bumped a certain way, it does sting.”
“Once again, Mr. Jacobs,” Mrs. Stiles said, frowning, “I’m truly sorry for knocking into you with my foot.”
He reached over and patted her hand. “No need to apologize. It was an accident.”
The air seemed to crackle throughout the group, and Nic realized he should start a new topic. Tabitha wasn’t looking at him any longer, and although he wanted her attention more than anything right now, he knew it wouldn’t be wise to obtain it yet. Not when his feelings were ready to burst from his chest whenever he looked at her. She was so very lovely this afternoon, it was extremely hard not to stare. If only they were alone.
“Mr. Woodland,” Mrs. Burls said, finally breaking the silence. “I want you to know I’ve noticed a change about you lately.”
Alarm rattled through Nic and he froze. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed Tabitha snap her head toward her aunt, as well. If Mrs. Burls had seen a change in him, then who else had wondered about the clergyman?
The Sweetest Secret Page 17