The Sweetest Love (Sons of Worthington Series) (23 page)

Nevertheless, this evening she sat at the head of the table as she and six of her friends ate their dinner and chatted about useless topics. It was all Diana could do to keep the faux smile on her face as she sipped a glass of sherry.

After dinner, she led the ladies into the parlor where she’d previously had tables and chairs set up for a game of whist. It was hard to pretend to be enjoying
herself
, when all she wanted to do was leave this place and go to her grandmother’s cottage…to be with Tristan. Concentrating on the topic of conversations was also difficult, and she found herself glancing at the clock in the room more times than she should have.

Once, she thought she’d heard a man’s voice at the front door, and her heartbeat thudded faster in excitement, hoping…praying it wasn’t Tristan for fear people would speculate about their relationship.
 
When she realized she’d been hearing things, her spirits dropped and it was even more difficult to smile.

She really needed to snap out of this melancholy mood before one of her friends noticed. Diana wouldn’t put it past Lady
Dashwood
to actually say something, either.

Finally, when she could stand no more, she excused herself to visit the ladies retiring room. Up the smaller corridor was the room. A few maids were there, ready to assist. Diana wished to be alone, yet that wasn’t proper without causing suspicion.

She didn’t spend a lot of time in the room before she was presentable again, and when she walked out, she took slow steps, not really wanting to pretend to enjoy her friends’ company. She must make some excuse to end the evening. Perhaps she would tell them that she had a long journey on the morrow, and she needed her sleep.

Shrugging, she rolled her eyes. At this point in the evening, she’d say anything to get her friends to leave. As she passed one of the empty rooms, the door was ajar and she could tell someone was inside. Curiosity had her stopping to take a peek inside.

Before she had time to think, the door widened and out from the darkness shot a man’s hand, grabbing her and yanking her into the room. Her feet moved obediently—it was either that or
fall
on her face—and soon she was pressed up against a muscular body. Immediately, she knew his scent, and the way her body cuddled so well with his.

Diana glanced up into his shadowed face. “Tristan, what are you doing?” she whispered.

“How did you know it was I?”

She chuckled. “I assure you, there is no other man who wants to grab me and pull me into a room for some privacy.”

He cupped her face with one hand. “Then indeed, I am the most fortunate man. I do not want any other man paying attention to you.”

“You are too kind. But I think the other men will stay far away because they believe me to be a murderess.”

“Good.” He grinned.

“Good?” she gasped in shock.

“Yes. If they think that way about you, then I won’t be competing with any other suitor this time.”

She shook her head. “You were not in competition with anyone last time, either. If you recall, I was being forced to marry Ludlow.”

“I do recall very well now, and I’m vastly relieved there is no other man in your life.”

“You are the only one I want.
Now and always.”

She didn’t allow him to make the first move. Lifting on her toes, she reached up to capture his mouth with hers. Thankfully his mouth had begun to descend and so she didn’t have to reach very high.

His arms wrapped around her and held her tight as she slid her palms up his chest and hooked her hands around his neck. His lips moved perfectly with hers, so soft and gentle at first then a little more urgent. Her heart burst with love and acceptance, and she loved this feeling that hadn’t been part of her life before.

She wanted more—much more. Never did she want to be separated from him again. If only fate would lend a helping hand this time. If only the real killer out there would get caught.

“Oh, Tristan,” she sighed and broke the kiss. “We should not be doing this here. My guests are waiting for me to return.”

He blew out a frustrated breath and leaned his forehead against hers. “I know, my love, but I couldn’t keep away from you. I knew you had visitors this evening, and when I arrived, I begged Tabitha to let me see you—if even just a glimpse.”

“Really?” Surprise jolted through her. “I thought I’d heard a man at my door, but then I realized it was only my imagination.”

“No, it was I. When I saw you sitting in with your guests, I knew I had to steal a private moment to take you in my arms and share a passionate kiss.”

“Three days,” she whispered. “I will leave for the cottage tomorrow and then you will follow in three days…just as we had planned.”

“I cannot wait that long.”

Smiling, she stroked his cheek. “Neither can I, but we must.”

“You are correct, my dear. I will try to have more patience.”

She pulled away and squeezed his hands. “Let me leave the room first.”

“I will.”

Diana turned and stepped to the door, but the floor creaked as he stepped behind her and took her in his arms once again. Closing her eyes, she grinned as his chest pressed against her back. She rubbed his arms circled around her waist.

“Tristan…”

“Yes, I know. I had a moment of weakness. But can you blame me? I just enjoy holding and kissing you so much.” He dropped a kiss to her neck.

“No, I won’t blame you.” She pulled away from him once again and peeked at him over her shoulder. “I’ll see you in three days.”

He nodded.
“Three days, and not a moment longer.”

Chapter Fifteen

Tabitha reached the cottage just as the sun descended in the horizon. The long ride made her dreary, but her conversation with Lord Hawthorne made her emotionally weak. She kept reminding herself that he would only see her as a maid.
Nothing more.
It didn’t matter if she was the bastard child of a nobleman, or if she perhaps had extended family with titles, she was too far beneath his station to live in
his
world.

She climbed out of the carriage and hurried into the house before the driver could bring in Diana’s trunks. As Tabitha removed her bonnet, the stairs creaked, and she swung in that direction. Sally crept down the steps, her eyes wide with fear.

“It’s just me,” Tabitha assured her. “But go back up to your room before the coachman, Mr.
Coggins
,
sees you.”

Nodding, Sally quickly retreated.

Tabitha hurried to the front door and held it open for Mr.
Coggins
. She wondered how she could keep him from seeing Sally. Because it was too late in the evening for him to travel back to the estate, the man must stay at the cottage.

Without speaking to her, the coachman carried the trunks and set them on the floor. Obviously, he was one of Lord Hollingsworth’s loyal servants because every time
Coggins
looked her way, he wore that same judgmental scowl as the rest of the servants wore.

“Thank you, Mr.
Coggins
. If you will excuse me, I shall prepare us something to eat in the kitchen.”

“I thank you for your offer, Miss Tabitha, but I will not be staying to take the meal with you. I have a brother that lives not far from here, and I would rather visit with him this evening.”

She didn’t want to show him how happy that made her, so she tried to hold in her exhilaration. Nodding, she said, “As you wish. Have a safe journey to your brother’s place.”

He turned and left without replying, but that was all right with Tabitha. The quicker he was gone, the better. She followed him outside, and stayed until he climbed on top of the carriage, then steered the horses back up the road.

“Is he gone?” Sally whispered as she peeked out around the door.

Tabitha smiled at the other woman. “Yes, thank goodness. I worried he would not leave until morning. I would have been watching him nonstop then to make certain he didn’t find you here.”

Relief swept over Sally’s expression and she smiled. Moving away from the door, she walked outside toward Tabitha. The reed-thin girl was probably eighteen or nineteen, but because of her thinness, Tabitha thought she looked much younger. Today her pale face actually held a little more color, and her blonde hair looked more yellow in the shadows.

“I would not have liked him here, either,” Sally said. “These past couple of days, I have enjoyed coming out in the yard and partaking of this warm weather. It pleases me to smell the fresh country air and walk through the paths decorated by lovely flowers. After Lord Elliot’s last beating, I feared I might not get through it alive.”

When Sally stepped in front of Tabitha, she patted her friend’s arm. “I would not have let him touch you one more time. Neither would Lady Hollingsworth.”

Tears welled in Sally’s eyes as she smoothed her hand over her brown dress, still sporting the rips that had happened during her last beating. Tabitha was thankful the other woman’s face was not as bruised as before, and the cut on Sally’s bottom lip was nearly healed.

“Seeing how you turned out,” Sally said, “makes my will strong. Because you have endured, so shall I.”

“And you will.” Tabitha smiled. “Nobody should be put through the torture that we have. And God might strike me down for saying this, but I’m vastly relieved Lord Elliot has met his Maker. I assure you, God will not be merciful.”

“I pray you are right. There were many times while he hit me when I wished I could…could…” She sobbed and brought her hand to her mouth.

Tabitha moved closer and put her arm around Sally. “You were not the only person feeling that way. I’m sure many of his servants wanted him dead.”

“I’m truly grateful for all that you and Lady Hollingsworth have done. It’s just very unfortunate that Lord Elliot had to die on the same night she rescued me. I hope the magistrate does not know she was there.”

“I will do everything in my power to keep Lady Hollingsworth safe.” Tabitha folded her arms across her chest. “What people don’t seem to understand is that Lord Elliot deserved his fate. In fact, I think he should have gotten worse. I would have enjoyed driving a knife into his chest one last time.”

In the stillness of the night, a noise was heard in the shadowy hedge other than the rustle through the leaves. It almost sounded like…a gasp!

Tabitha swung toward the hedge and fixed her stare on the dark shadows. “Did you hear that, Sally?”

“Hear what?”

“It sounded like…” She stepped closer as her heartbeat frantically pounded against her ribs.

“Like what?” Sally
asked,
her voice softer than before.

“I pray I’m wrong, but it sounded like someone is hiding in the hedges.”

Sally released a panicked squeal and darted inside the house. Tabitha continued toward the spot where she’d heard the sound. The closer she came, the more her legs trembled. Yet, if someone were hiding—and listening—wouldn’t they be trying to get away right now? The hedges remained unruffled and there were no other sounds. She stopped inches away from the greenery and peered as hard as she could through the darkness, but couldn’t see anything.

Perhaps she’d been wrong. After all, it could have been a small animal. So then why did it sound like a man’s gasp?

Shaking her head, she turned away and hurried back inside the house. Her imagination was playing tricks on her again. Why would anyone be this far away from the town without making their presence known? It definitely wasn’t Mr.
Coggins
because he had traveled in the opposite direction.

She settled her panic and convinced herself it had indeed been a small animal. As she entered, she closed the door behind her. “Not to worry, Sally. I think it was a rodent.”

“Are you sure?” Sally’s voice came from the kitchen.

“I saw nobody trying to run, and I couldn’t detect anyone still hiding. So yes, I’m certain it was a rodent.”

Sally slowly exited the kitchen, running her fingers through her hair. “That relieves me greatly.”

“Forgive me for frightening you.”

“There is nothing to forgive. We all need to be very cautious. At least until Lord Elliot’s murderer is caught.”

“I agree.” Tabitha rubbed her hands together. “Now, let’s forget all of this nonsense and fix us something for dinner. I’m famished.”

As she made her way into the kitchen, unease grew inside of her. Something wasn’t right, and she couldn’t shake away the feeling. From time to time throughout her life, she’d experienced these kinds of feelings. More often than not, she was right and horrible things had occurred. Now, the apprehension growing in her gut hinted of a danger that lurked in the future. One she could not control.

* * * *

Tristan paced the floor in his study so much that he feared the rugs needed to be replaced. And to think he still had to wait three more days. How could he do it? Even now, the wait was killing him.

Since his return from the cottage after being kidnapped, he’d ridden his stallion by Diana’s estate every day, but never saw her sitting by a window or outside. However, eavesdropping on his servants proved informative. That was how he’d heard about Diana’s dinner party with close friends last night. And this morning, the servants had mentioned how they’d seen several trunks loaded on Diana’s carriage.