Soon, the door rattled, the chink of chains confirming his suspicion. Then the carriage’s door opened. Before he had a chance to speak, the tip of a saber entered through the open space.
“Mark my words, my lord, one wrong move and I’ll slice this blade clean through you.”
A person with a hooded black cape stood in the doorway of the vehicle, their face hidden in the shadows. Tristan blinked with surprise. Whoever this was had such a young voice for being someone so threatening. Tristan had no doubt the man’s words were true, however, he had serious misgivings that his captor was a full grown man. The tone of voice was more like a lad just before reaching his maturity.
“I’ll cooperate,” Tristan replied.
“Come out of the vehicle slowly.”
As instructed, Tristan stepped down from the coach. His captor wore the attire of a driver, except the clothes didn’t fit him as well. Even the hat hung low on his forehead, and the brim cast shadows over the occupant’s thin face. Tristan was certain he could overpower this one—yet his captor held a saber in one hand and a pistol in the other.
A gust of wind blew from behind, pushing Tristan forward. Drops of rain fell on him. When had the storm moved in?
“I assure you, my lord, I’m well-schooled in the use of a saber and pistol. One wrong move and it will be your last,” his captor said loudly above the howling wind.
Tristan frowned. The odds of escaping were not in his favor. “I believe you.” And he did. The other man’s hands didn’t tremble like someone who had never done this before. There was confidence in the way the other spoke and in his movements.
The lad motioned toward the cottage as he tried to keep his hat from blowing off his head. “Enter.”
Tristan held his hands up in surrender as he walked. He wanted to make the other person aware that he was unarmed and was no threat. “Can you at least tell me why you have taken me? What have I done?”
“You shall know when I want you to know, and not a moment sooner.”
Tristan couldn’t possibly think of why anyone would want to kidnap him. He hadn’t made many enemies except for Lord Hollingsworth, and now that the man was dead Tristan couldn’t think of a single soul. He hadn’t broken many hearts, either. Never had he claimed the title of rake—like his younger brother, Trey. Lately, the only title Tristan could claim was that of a drunk.
Entering the small cottage, he took in his surroundings. A few lamps lightened the room. Somebody lived here, and the comforting welcome of the fire and the coziness of the furniture gave him hope that whoever this person was, they were not going to kill him. At least he hoped first impressions were correct.
A single wooden chair sat in the middle of the room. The tip of the saber at his back had Tristan holding his breath, yet he followed the prompt of the weapon as it pushed him to the chair.
“Sit.”
Once again, he did as instructed. The lad walked behind him, tied his hands and legs with a rope before standing again, then moved in front of Tristan.
He arched an eyebrow. “Will you now tell me why I’m here?” He struggled with the ties, impressed with how well his captor—as small in stature as the man was—could bind so tight. “As you can see, I’m not a threat any longer.”
The lad kept his head down, preventing Tristan from getting a good look at him. Of course his captor stood in the shadows, so Tristan wouldn’t be able to see his face that well anyway. He still felt the other’s gaze assessing him. Usually Tristan was a patient man, but he was ready to shout with frustration.
His captor folded his arms. “You, my lord, are in my control. I am going to ruin you completely! The same way you ruined a certain woman three years ago.”
Chapter Two
Tristan glared at his captor, not believing this person had the audacity to kidnap him before his wedding and threaten him.
“Did you not hear me?” the lad demanded. “You are in my control now! What have you to say to that?”
Nodding, Tristan cocked his head. “I heard you. Pray, tell me how you plan on ruining me as you have threatened? Because I can assure you, I did not ruin any woman three years ago.” There could only be one woman that could come close to being ruined. Diana. Yet he had never ruined her. Lord Hollingsworth had!
His captor straightened his shoulders and unbuttoned the driver’s jacket, letting it fall to the floor. A woman’s dress came into view, the bulk gathered around her middle with a hash. She released the tie and the fullness swished down around her legs. Lastly, the driver’s hat was removed. Brown hair fell around the woman’s shoulders as she adjusted her dress to cover the calves he’d glimpsed as she removed the boy’s trousers.
He’d never seen this woman before. Had she gotten the wrong brother? Perhaps it was Trey she was mad at instead—since Trey had had the reputation of a rake before he’d married. The girl would be quite pretty if her big blue eyes weren’t shooting invisible daggers his way. A victorious grin touched her full lips as she folded her arms over her chest.
“I finally have in my presence, the honorable Lord Tristan Worthington.”
Inwardly he groaned. So the idea of mistake in identity flew out the window. “Yes, you do. Now will you be so kind as to tell me your name?”
“Tabitha Paget.”
“And now will you tell me how you know me, and why in heaven’s name you thought it important to kidnap me?”
“I work for someone who hates you. You ruined her life, and now it’s time to ruin yours.”
Her? “Pray tell, who is this person you speak of? Are you certain I know her at all?”
She laughed. “Oh, you know her, I assure you.”
From out in the corridor, a loud gasp ricocheted through the room. Tristan swung his attention toward the sound just as another woman wearing a nightgown and white wrapper entered. Long auburn hair flowed over her shoulders. Her hand covered her mouth, and her wide eyes looked oddly familiar.
“Lord T—T—Tristan?”
Although he had seen her from a distance at some of society’s functions, he hadn’t tried to even look at her during those times. But now… In a rush, all the memories he’d tried to forget three years ago came back to him. The ball… the infatuation… the greenhouse. And that incredible, unforgettable kiss.
He’d tried to forget how lovely Diana had been when he’d first met her, but it was nearly impossible. Now she was literally a luscious beauty. Shaking his head, he pushed away the thought. Thinking of her this way was not healthy. Something in his forgotten memory told him not to trust her.
Slowly, her gaze ran over every inch of him—all tied up and sitting on the chair. As they stared at each other in silence, he’d forgotten how he had lost all ability to think straight while in her presence. Three years ago, she’d turned his mind to mush and made him think as if he were indeed love-struck. Well, no more. Perhaps confronting her now and discussing the past would finally get her out of his mind forever.
It surprised him to think she had gone to great lengths to kidnap him and bring him here. She was now his captor, and according to her maid, Diana hated him.
“Tabitha? What is he doing here?” Diana asked softly.
“Hmm, well, my lady, I took the coach into town to buy the items you requested dressed as your driver, and when I saw him, and heard he was marrying Lady Jane Fairbourne tomorrow, I knew I must do something quickly.”
The servant was no longer brave and superior as she’d been a moment ago. Now she acted like most maids should in front of their employer.
Diana groaned. “Oh, Tabitha, what have you done? You can go to prison for kidnapping a lord. We both can go to prison for this.” She covered her hands over her face as her fingers rubbed circles on her temple.
“No, my lady.” Tabitha rushed to Diana’s side and placed her palm on Diana’s shoulder. “It will be his word against ours. Nobody saw, I assure you.”
“Lady Hollingsworth,” Tristan greeted once he found his voice. “What a su
rprise it is to see you—and in your night clothes, no less.”
Her hands dropped to her side as her perplexed eyes locked to his. “I’m quite certain it is a surprise, my lord, considering you probably never expected to see me again.”
“I must admit, I hadn’t.” He flicked his gaze to the length of her. “Especially under such circumstances. Tell me, Lady Hollingsworth, why did you instruct your maid to kidnap me?”
“I didn’t know of her plans,” she said coolly.
He moved his focus back to the servant, his mind scrambling for anything that might entice her to release him. “Do you plan to hold me for ransom? I can tell you that my mother has a bad heart. If I am not at the church to wed Lady Fairbourne tomorrow, my mother’s heart will fail. If she dies as a result of this wicked deed, you won’t see a dime of my money. I beg you, for my mother’s sake, please return me to the church posthaste. If you release me now, I promise not to tell the magistrate of the kidnapping.”
“Ridiculous,” Tabitha shouted. “The storm has grown worse since our arrival, and even if we left at first light, it would be impossible to return you in time. By then your loving fiancée’s heart will be shattered.” Anger sparked in the maid’s eyes.
He seethed, finally hearing the rain pelt against the roof. No matter how bad the storm, he needed to leave tonight. “How much do you want?”
“My lord?” Tabitha asked with an arched eyebrow.
“Name your price. How much do I need to pay you to let me go?”
“I don’t care about your money, my lord. If you must know, I don’t plan on returning you at all.” She moved in front of him and stopped. “Lady Hollingsworth and I don’t want one shilling from you. We want revenge! I want to hurt you in the same manner you have hurt my mistress.”
Tristan’s attention jumped back to Diana, but she didn’t make a move to stop her maid. He looked back to Tabitha. “You really want revenge? Are you planning to push Lady Fairbourne over the cliff, then? Pray, my dear, take me to the cliffs and shove me over instead. Perhaps you’ll succeed where Lord Hollingsworth failed.”
* * * *
Anger, hurt, betrayal, and confusion blended together to squeeze Diana’s heart. What was he talking about? Shoved over the cliffs? Diana should do something, and scolding Tabitha for what she’d done was high on Diana’s list. But all she could do was stare in near horror as Tristan and the maid verbally sparred.
What was Diana to do? Indeed, if Tristan said anything to the magistrate, both she and Tabitha would be taken to Newgate and locked away for kidnapping a duke’s brother. She needed to think of a way out…any way out. But seeing him this close—and helpless—was her undoing. Her mind refused to work properly.
“My lord,” Tabitha continued, “you are making no sense at all. This is about revenge, but we will see it done our way.”
“You cannot be serious,” Tristan grumbled.
Tabitha laughed bitterly. “I am very serious, my lord. Men like you don’t deserve happiness when you take it from others.”
“Pray, what do you think to accomplish by kidnapping me?”
A grin stole across the maid’s mouth. “I plan to ruin you just as you have ruined Lady Hollingsworth.”
“Kidnapping me is going to ruin my reputation?” He barked out a laugh. “I think you have figured this all wrong.”
“Actually, I have planned this out perfectly. You see, your servants know you were hesitant about the upcoming marriage to the widow Fairbourne. Even the men you were drinking with at the tavern knew you really didn’t want to get married. Because of that, no one will doubt that you fled your own wedding.”
“What about my driver? Wouldn’t he be able to confirm that someone else took his place?”
Tabitha shook her head. “Not when you were the one who climbed in the wrong vehicle.”
Groaning, Tristan closed his eyes.
Diana gasped and stared at her maid. “Lord Tristan was that drunk?”
Laughing, Tabitha nodded. “Indeed he was, my lady. When I saw him stumble out of the tavern and go to the wrong coach, I knew fate was lending me a hand.” Her grin widened. “And, earlier before that happened, I snuck into his townhouse and left missives on his desk that will lead his family to discover the purpose for his absence.” She turned her focus back on Tristan whose glare was now aimed at Tabitha. “The missive is from a woman you’ve been meeting secretly for the past few months.” She shrugged. “What other conclusion could they come to except you ran out on your own wedding? The last I’d heard, a gentleman’s reputation becomes tarnished by doing this.”
“Tabitha?” Diana asked in a harsh voice. “I thought you told me you were going into town for some supplies.”
A blush stole across the maid’s face. “Well, to be honest, my main goal was to set up Lord Tristan and kidnap him.” She shrugged. “Can I help it if fate lent me a helping hand?”
Diana blew out an agitated breath as doom began to close around her. She needed to think of a way out of this mess…and soon! “But it doesn’t hide the fact that what you did was wrong, and we could suffer greatly for this mistake.”
“Forgive me, my lady. I was only trying to get back at him. I only had your best interests in mind.”
Tristan’s face hardened and anger darkened his blue eyes. “I see you have thought long and hard about your revenge. And Lady Hollingsworth I commend you for finding such a loyal servant.”
“Indeed, my lord. It wasn’t until now that I realized what a Godsend Tabitha is to me.” Diana stepped closer and dared to touch the lock of hair hanging on his forehead. Memories from the past engulfed her as if it was just yesterday they’d held each other so personally. She’d been so young back then. And certainly foolish. So then why did he still make her heart flutter? She hated him. Didn’t she?
“I’ve spent three long and miserable years wishing things were different, and in all that time, I had such wicked thoughts of how I could humiliate you as you have humiliated me.”
The longer she toyed with his hair, the color in his eyes began to lighten, and the creases around his mouth relaxed. Could he feel the spark that had always happened between them when they touched? She hoped not.
“I heard you had left for Paris right after you and Ludlow were married,” he said in softer tones.
She withdrew her hand and stepped back. “I did, but just as I’d gotten used to the routine of having a life once again, something always happened to ruin it. There was always someone who’d heard about the duel. Ludlow seemed to blossom because of what happened, but I wilted like a dead flower.”
He glanced around the room. “So where are we now? Who lives here?”
“This used to be my maternal grandmother’s house. She died three months past. A fortnight ago, I decided to come here and stay for a while. Ludlow’s murder was suffocating me, especially all the rumors.”
“I heard you were a suspect,” he said matter-of-factly.
She chuckled, but humor was the farthest thing from her mind. “And so are you. For that matter, half of the men he played cards with are suspects as well as most the women he had affairs with.”
He shrugged. “So you live out here alone?”
“Do not sound so surprised. I’ve been alone since you publically proclaimed to win my hand in marriage by dueling with Ludlow, and then ran away from the duel that morning.”
“Ran away from the duel? No, Diana, you cannot believe that. Hollingsworth—”
“Lord Tristan, please say no more. I don’t want to hear your lies.” Pain clenched her heart—a feeling she was accustomed to. She should also correct him for being so forward with her name, but she enjoyed the way it sounded on his lips. She recalled when he’d used it before. Diana, I want to hold you so badly it’s killing me... Diana, your lips are like wine—so pleasing to taste…
“Diana, please, you must listen. I don’t know what—”
She stuffed a rag into his mouth, muffling the words. “Gag him, Tab
itha.”
“With pleasure, my lady”.
Diana took a deep breath, trying to remove her traitorous thoughts. Her head felt ready to explode, and she rubbed her temples again. Tabitha fidgeted with the gag, but was finally able to secure it around his mouth.
What am I going to do now? Diana needed a clear head to think logically, because obviously Tabitha had not thought this out before she acted. Until Diana could figure out a rational plan, Tristan would just have to remain tied to the chair.
“I’m tired and I want to return to my room.” Diana walked around him and tested the ropes on his arms and legs. “You shall be fine right here. I suggest you get some rest, too.” Peeking over her shoulder at the maid, she motioned her hand. “Come, Tabitha. Let us leave him to wallow in his pitiful state right now. Perhaps the morning will be brighter for all of us.”
Tabitha kept the victorious grin on her face as she walked out. Before Diana could quit the room, she took one more look at Tristan. His eyes watched her as a frown deepened his expression. Being away from him for three years hadn’t been long enough, because his sad, helpless eyes still tugged at her heart.
Chapter Three
Bath, England, three years earlier
“Your Grace.” Miss Diana Baldwin bobbed a curtsey to the Dowager Duchess of Kensington—the hostess of the party who wandered through the flower garden, greeting her guests. The older woman was such a sweet lady, and Diana wished all women of the ton followed the dowager’s example.
Beside Diana, her mother, Baroness Baldwin, sighed and patted Diana’s arm as they strolled along the pebbled path. “Oh, my sweet daughter. It is my wish that some day you will be as grand as the dowager.”
She looked at her mother. The older woman’s expression was marred with lines of worry. “Mother, I have been out for three Seasons. I highly doubt I’ll catch the eye of a duke. I would just like to catch some man’s eye before I become a spinster.”
“I know, dear.” Her mother patted Diana’s arm. “I do think this is the year you will get an offer. You father has been very selective in the past, but now he’s finally decided that we need to get you married this year.”
The Sweetest Love (Sons of Worthington Series) Page 2
