The Sweetest Love (Sons of Worthington Series)

by Higgins, Marie

  A few men gasped, but Tristan only heard the person sitting on his right. Slowly, he turned his gaze to Trey. The wide blue eyes of his brother were dark with anger, and silently he issued a warning. Trey had always been like that—thinking he needed to protect Tristan against men who were very much like the youngest Worthington brother. Tristan gave Trey a nonchalant shrug and returned his attention to Hollingsworth whose face was flushed.

  “Shall we continue playing?” Tristan asked.

  The others around the table chimed in with a positive response. Throughout the game, Hollingsworth continued to throw visual daggers toward Tristan, which he did his best to ignore. The fop had always been a bad sport while playing cards, and if Tristan didn’t enjoy taking the lord’s money so much, he would refuse to play with him most of the time.

  Finally, Hollingsworth bowed out, gathered up the little winnings he had kept, and stormed out of the room. The other gents followed suit. Tristan stood, and so did his brother.

  Trey reached his arms above his head as if he were stretching out kinks. “Well, Brother. I believe I shall retire as well.” He clapped his hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “But I’m happy to see you have won big this evening, and once again, brought with your company a bit of entertainment.”

  “Entertainment?” Tristan arched an eyebrow.

  “Yes. You enjoy making the other gentlemen at the table nervous, including your own brother.”

  Scooping up his winnings, Tristan chuckled. “Well, someone has to liven up the game.” He nodded to his brother, and hurried out to try and find Hollingsworth. He’d give the man every last thing he earned tonight if it meant winning Diana’s hand. As he made his way down the steps of the building, a dark shadow against the building pulled his attention.

  “Lord Tristan,” Hollingsworth greeted in a not-so-civil tone.

  “Hollingsworth.” Tristan nodded. “I had assumed you were heading home to sulk.”

  “You thought wrong.” The lord walked slowly toward Tristan, eyeing him carefully. “I’m not a man who sulks. Instead, I’m a man who gets even.”

  “Truly?” Tristan folded his arms across his chest. “What a surprise. I hadn’t heard that about you, Hollingsworth.”

  The other man’s scowl darkened—if that were at all possible. “I’m warning you now. I will not tolerate a cheater.”

  “Ah, such a good thing to know about you.” Tristan nodded. “I’m quite certain that particular trait will make you one trustworthy lord one day.”

  “Lord Tristan,” he snarled. “I do not want to play another game of cards with you again.”

  “Why not, my lord?” Tristan frowned. “Don’t you know how much I enjoy taking your money? Are you sure we couldn’t just work this out?”

  Growling, Hollingsworth gripped the lapels of Tristan’s overcoat and shook him once. “Heed my warning, or you’ll be sorry. If you don’t do as I say, I might have to harm someone close to you just to teach you a lesson.”

  Whether the man was foxed or not, Tristan had had enough of this imbecile. Breaking the hold Hollingsworth had on him, Tristan pushed the older man, causing Hollingsworth to tumble back a couple of steps before righting himself.

  “Now hear this, my lord.” Tristan sneered the last two words, hating that this kind of man had been born to noble parents. “I don’t take kindly to threats, especially aimed at those I care about. So if you value your life, you will refrain from saying such things. Understood?”

  “You doubt my sincerity?”

  Tristan could tell Hollingsworth wanted more—and Tristan would indeed give it to him. “I’m a fair man, and although I’m not an avid gambler like my brother, Lord Trey, I do enjoy making bets. I have a wager for you, my lord.” He held out the money he’d won tonight. “I will give you every last shilling here, if you withdraw your marriage offer to Miss Diana Baldwin.”

  It took only seconds before Hollingsworth’s eyes widened and he laughed. “Oh, what a surprise this is! I actually have something Lord Tristan wants.”

  “I’m quite serious, Hollingsworth. Leave the lady alone. She does not want to marry you. She wants to be my wife.”

  Hollingsworth threw back his head and bellowed a laugh. “Oh, this is famous! Not very often do I see a time when a Worthington brother does not get what he wants.” He flipped his hand. “Regardless, I can assure you, Lord Tristan, you have lost. Miss Baldwin and I will marry and there isn’t a thing you can do to stop it.”

  Tristan’s mind grasped for anything that might help him. “How much do you want? I will pay handsomely. I have spoken with the man earlier, and he will allow me to wed his daughter if I can get you to release him.”

  Hollingsworth shrugged. “If Lord Baldwin breaks the betrothal agreement, I shall see the man in prison and he knows it. I can assure you this battle I will win because I hold the trump card!”

  As Hollingsworth walked away, Tristan’s heart crumbled. What could he possibly do now to stop it?

  “Tristan? What was that all about?”

  Trey’s voice yanked Tristan out of his turmoil, and he turned to look toward the building. Trey had been leaning against the side of the structure in the shadows. He pulled away and sauntered toward Tristan.

  “I couldn’t help but overhear what you and Hollingsworth were talking about.”

  “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

  “Is there something I can do to assist?”

  Tristan shrugged. “I want to marry Miss Baldwin and she wants to marry me, but her father signed a contract with Hollingsworth. Do you have any insane ideas on how I can stop her from marrying the wrong man?”

  Trey chuckled. “I must admit, Tristan, I never thought I’d see you so adamant about a woman you just barely met. What happened with Lady Jane?”

  “Nothing at all happened with her, nor will it ever. I want to marry Diana.”

  “Well, if it were me,” he said walking past Tristan slowly, “and mind you, I will never be in your shoes, but if that were me, I would take what is mine without questions asked.”

  “But Trey, she’s not mine.”

  Trey stopped, turned and looked over his shoulder at Tristan. “Then make her yours.”

  “How?”

  “Elope. Go get her tonight and take her to Gretna Green.”

  “But…can I?”

  “What is Hollingsworth or her father going to do once she’s married and you have consummated the marriage bed?” He shook his head. “Not one bloody thing! And although the elopement may dampen yours and Miss Baldwin’s reputation for a while, people will soon forgive and forget, but at least the lady will be yours and not Hollingsworth’s.”

  Hope sprang to life in Tristan’s chest and he clamped his hand on Trey’s shoulder. “What a brilliant suggestion. Has anyone ever told you how very clever you are?”

  Trey’s smile widened. “All the time, my dear brother.”

  Excitement rushed through Tristan once more, and he ran to his horse, mounted, and rode toward Bristol to finally rescue his fair maiden. He wouldn’t get there tonight, but he would still take her to Gretna Green sometime tomorrow.

  * * * *

  Diana’s stomach churned with dread, and her nerves wouldn’t stop jumping. She’d stayed awake most of the night waiting for Tristan to come, and when he hadn’t, her worst fears began to surface. Would he be able to convince Hollingsworth to release the betrothal contract?

  By ten o’clock in the morning, her mother took Diana into the nearest village to do more shopping. She didn’t want to see anyone but Tristan. She didn’t want to have to look into people’s faces and admit that she was the viscount’s bride-to-be.

  As they moved from one shop to the next, Diana kept her head down for fear someone would want to talk to her. In the dress shop, she stood by the window and waited for her mother to conclude her transaction. Daring to take a peek out the window, she scanned the road, wishing she were back home.

  From across the street by the blacksmith�
�s barn, she detected a familiar shadow. A man stood just inside the barn facing toward the shop. Her heartbeat picked up rhythm. Tristan.

  She rushed out of the building, anticipating the moment she would see his face and hear the words you’re free. Dodging a horse and buggy, she darted across the road and was nearly to the door.

  Entering the stable, she called out, “Tristan?”

  The shadow moved toward the light. A strong hand grasped her arm and pain shot through her limb, making her cry out.

  “No, my dear Diana. It’s not your precious Tristan, but your fiancé.”

  The scent of alcohol from his breath made her gag, and she tried to pull away. Instead, he yanked her closer.

  “Ah, my pretty Diana.” His hand stroked her cheek. “You are going to make a fine, passionate wife, especially if you show as much interest in me as you do to Lord Tristan.”

  “Please, my lord.” She struggled to get him to release her arm. “I don’t wish to marry you. I will never love you. I love Tristan.”

  A fierce growl rattled through his throat and suddenly, both hands were on her arms as he roughly pressed his body against hers. “I care not about love. Only possession. You will be mine and there is nothing anyone can do about it.”

  “Y—y—you are wrong. Tristan promised he’d make things right.” Fear shook through her body.

  He cackled a laugh. “Oh, my dear Diana, how wrong you are to put so much trust in a Worthington brother. I can assure you, once Tristan realizes what kind of woman you are, he will turn and run far away from you and your miserable, penniless family.”

  “What are you talking about? He knows what kind of woman I am.”

  He stared into her eyes for the longest time before a smile snuck across his face. “Am I to believe that you don’t even know what kind of family you have? If any true nobleman learned of your family’s dark secret, I assure you, nobody would look upon you even if you were lying in the gutter and they had to step across you to get to the other side.”

  “Lord Hollingsworth, please.” She struggled against him. “You are not making any sense. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Just know this,” he said in a lower voice as he brought his face closer to hers, “once the secret is out, I will be the only man who will want you, and you will be happy that I’m such an understanding husband.”

  Behind her, a loud curse rent through the barn mere seconds before Hollingsworth was ripped from her side and fell to the ground. Tristan stood over him, his hands fisted, ready to strike. She sobbed with relief. But really…would Tristan’s presence indeed bring relief at all or only make things worse?

  His eyes met hers. Worry etched his expression. “Are you all right?”

  “Y—yes. I thank you for saving me. Again.”

  On the ground, Hollingsworth muttered curses as he stood. “You have crossed me for the last time, Worthington.” He aimed his curse toward Tristan as he jumped to his feet.

  Tristan glared, his blue eyes as hard as steel. “I told you earlier, I would not let you marry Diana.”

  “And I told you that you don’t have a choice!” Hollingsworth thundered as he rushed forward.

  Growling, Tristan punched Hollingsworth in the nose, and the older man fell back to the ground.

  She gasped and covered her mouth, but heard other gasps around her. Startled, she swung around to look behind her. Several people from the village had gathered. Embarrassment washed over her. Scandal was about to explode, and this kind of gossip would spread like wildfire.

  Hollingsworth’s evil laugh pulled her attention back to him. A trickle of blood dripped from his mouth.

  “Lord Tristan, I grow tired of your attitude. This between us will end now.” He swallowed hard. “Better yet, it will end tomorrow morning. At sunrise, I challenge you to a duel at Harvey’s Cliffs. Be there with a second, or your name—and your family’s name—will be reduced to that of cowards.”

  Tristan threw a glance over his shoulder at the crowd who was growing larger by the second, and then looked back at Hollingsworth. Tristan pulled his shoulders back and lifted a stubborn chin.

  “I accept your challenge.”

  “And the winner will have Miss Baldwin as their wife,” Hollingsworth added.

  A cold hand wrapped around Diana’s arm. Her mother stood beside her with a face void of color. “We are leaving now!” she grumbled.

  “Yes, Mother.”

  Diana looked back and Tristan. A soft smile bracketed his face and he mouthed the words don’t worry. Her heart burst with happiness and gave her courage to leave with her mother and face the wrath she knew would soon be coming from her father.

  Harvey’s Cliffs were well known for duels, but deep inside her, she knew Tristan would come out the victor. He had not failed her yet, and her heart told her she could always count on him.

  * * * *

  Tears spilled from Diana’s eyes as she stood staring blindly out the window as her parents and Lord Hollingsworth discussed her quick wedding.

  She’d waited to hear something about the duel this morning, but she wasn’t prepared for what her father had told her.

  Tristan didn’t show up for the duel… Took the coward’s way out… He’s nowhere to be found.

  Although the words continued to echo through her head, she dared not believe it. Yet…where was Tristan now? Hadn’t he wanted to marry her? But according to those people who had arrived at Harvey’s Cliffs this morning to witness the duel, they all confirmed that Tristan had not shown up.

  He’d abandoned her and left her in the clutches of a vile, disgusting Viscount who didn’t care about her as much as he cared about winning—about possessing.

  Piece by piece, her heart shattered slowly as realization sunk in. Tristan hadn’t loved her as much as she had loved him. And he certainly did not want to marry her. She was even prepared to elope with him if needs be.

  In a way she wanted to feel relief that she hadn’t married a coward and deceiver such as Tristan Worthington. Yet, why couldn’t her heart stop loving him and wanting him back? Now she knew that would never happen…and her future looked bleak.

  Chapter Eight

  Three years later, back at the unknown cottage

  Tristan’s body ached terribly, and his skin chafed from the rope burns. When he wasn’t so mad, he’d have to compliment that maid for being so thorough with his bindings. But until then, he was content to be upset with her—and Diana—for forcing him to stay here.

  The ladies had retired for bed hours ago and were probably sleeping just fine in their comfy beds while their prisoner was completely uncomfortable in this chair. He glanced over at the sofa only a few steps away from him. If only he could bounce somehow to those soft, inviting, cushions and lay his head on something soft…then he’d be able to sleep.

  As well as he could using only his chin and shoulder, he tried to remove the gag. It moved a little, but didn’t come off. Still, it was enough that he could at least lick his lips if needs be.

  Using all of his strength, he concentrated on jumping in the chair. It took him a few times, but soon, he was able to move the chair—if only an inch at a time. That would be good enough for now.

  He huffed and groaned as he forced his body to move with the chair, commanding the chair to move in the direction he wanted to go. Finally, when he got close enough to the sofa, he lunged. The chair tipped, and thankfully, landed on the cushions. Half of him was on the sofa, while the other half was still on the floor. It didn’t matter, because at least his head had something soft to lay on now.

  Exhaustion filled him and he took slow breaths, trying to relax. Too bad his mind wouldn’t relax. He still wondered why Diana felt that what had happened between them three years ago was his fault. Her words had not made a bit of sense. If anything, he should loathe her…which he did. He just couldn’t remember exactly why…

  His memory hadn’t fully returned, and that irritated him more than anything. It s
eemed that no matter how hard he tried to recall the past, the further away he was taken from the truth.

  Slowly, he closed his eyes and listened to the rain pounding the roof in a steady rhythm. Soon, his mind drifted asleep. Diana’s wide green eyes—passionate eyes—were in this thoughts.

  Three years ago, he’d been crushed to discover she hadn’t tried to stop the duel. Not that he wanted her to chase after him, but she didn’t even voice her opinion or pretend that she cared. Many of the events that occurred before the duel were foggy, but he remembered feelings of despondency.

  What had really happened that morning? Why couldn’t he remember? When he’d finally started to remember his past, the deepening hatred for Diana stayed in his heart and wouldn’t leave. He remembered being in love with her, yet…was that feeling real at all? Could he have mistaken love for infatuation—or heaven help him—lust?

  As Diana stayed on his mind, a comforting sensation spread over him. When they first met, she’d been so adorable blowing kissing at him even though it was really to blow away the bee. Her eyes twinkled when she looked upon him while they danced. And her laugh was like heavenly chimes in his ears. When she said his name, it was always followed with a sigh.

  Then that dreadful day she’d learned of her betrothal to Lord Hollingsworth, her emerald green eyes had pleaded for help. His heart wrenched, and he’d wanted so badly to take away her pain—and his frustration. She’d made him feel like a man, more so than any other woman had made him feel.

  Lord Hollingsworth was also in Tristan’s mind. So forceful. So cock-eyed sure of himself that Tristan wanted to pummel the man’s face. Hollingsworth knew he could make Tristan squirm, and that kind of feeling was not acceptable!

  Slowly, the fog in his mind cleared.

  The letter… Diana’s letter.

  Drowsily, Tristan shook his head, trying to remember more. The duel hadn’t happened in the morning, but…