“I fear the only thing for me to do is go to see her today,” Tristan said in defeat. “Even if it means discovering something I don’t wish to hear.”
Nic came closer and clasped his hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “Give me time to return home and change before we’re off.”
“Yes, but hurry. I’m exhausted with all this worry. I want the truth out in the open once and for all.”
Nodding, Nic turned and hurried out of the room. As Tristan watched Hawthorne leave, he prayed their plan would come about, and the real killer discovered. Tristan didn’t know what he was going to say to Diana or how he was going to act, but one thing was certain—he couldn’t trust her until she opened up to him about Tabitha. Until that happened, he couldn’t fully give her his heart, either.
* * * *
Diana stared out the window at the passing landscape, not really paying attention to the land she knew was so beautiful. Due to the pain in her heart, it was impossible to gaze upon such loveliness and smile.
The carriage wheel hit a rut and jerked her on the seat. She scooted back and made herself comfortable again. Yet deep in her heart the rut of despair could not be filled.
Pain squeezed her chest as she recalled the exchange she’d overheard between Mr. Coggins and Martha early this morning as the two servants loaded the carriage for Diana’s departure.
After all these years of wondering why Ludlow’s servants hated her, she finally discovered the truth.
Blinking back the tears stinging her eyes, their voices echoed in her ears—like a terrifying screech that would always be branded in her memory. They hated Diana because she had never given Ludlow a child. Apparently, Ludlow’s father had a temper when he first married, but after Ludlow was born, the temper disappeared. The servants who knew Ludlow’s family were in hopes that this would happen with Ludlow, but when Diana couldn’t conceive, they blamed her. And ultimately, they blamed her for his death as well.
When she had realized she could not have a baby, a ray of satisfaction had glimmered in her heart. She didn’t love Ludlow, and hadn’t wanted his child. She didn’t want a child to have to experience some of the beatings she had done during their years of marriage. Unfortunately, his judgmental servants couldn’t see it that way.
Diana took a deep breath and slowly released it, hoping to calm her spirits. With any luck, Mr. Lusk would arrive at the manor while she was staying at the cottage. Then she would never have to return to the nightmare she’d endured for far too long.
Shouts from Mr. Coggins and the slowing of the carriage alerted her to her surroundings once again. Home at last. This cottage held such wonderful, tender memories of the times she spent with her grandmother. And now… Diana sighed and smiled. Now new memories would be made—happy and unforgettable.
When the carriage stopped, she opened the door and climbed down. Tabitha rushed out of the house and began issuing instructions to Mr. Coggins. Diana tried to ignore the suspicious glares from her disgruntled servant as he carried her trunks inside the house.
“Good day, Tabitha. I trust all is well with the place?”
Tabitha smiled brightly and nodded. “Everything is in order, my lady.”
“Splendid.”
Tabitha moved closer and touched Diana’s arm. “When will Lord Tristan be arriving?” she whispered.
“Our plans were for him to arrive in three days.”
“Sally and I have been cleaning a room and getting it ready for his stay.”
“How is Sally faring?”
“She gets better and better every day. You can hardly see the bruises on her face.”
Diana smiled and squeezed her friend’s hand. “I thank you for everything. I do believe my life is going to change for the better now.”
“Indeed it will.”
It took a few more minutes for Mr. Coggins to finish unloading all of Diana’s trunks, and Tabitha assisted as much as she could. By the disapproving glares from Mr. Coggins, Diana was vastly relieved she wouldn’t have to deal with him much longer.
As she stood just outside the front door watching the man’s departure, a cool wind blew against her. Gathering her cloak tighter, she glanced up at the sky. Dark clouds threatened overhead, hinting that rain would be coming soon. From the fierce rumbles in the air, she surmised today’s storm would be long and bring plenty of moisture to the land.
She entered the cottage, and immediately, her mind returned to the last time she was here with Tristan. Finally, happiness had found her. She just prayed it would stay.
The stairs creaked and within seconds, Sally hesitantly stepped into view. Diana nodded and motioned with her hand for Sally to come closer. “Mr. Coggins is gone now. You will be all right.”
Sally moved closer, her hands clutched against her middle. “I—I am very happy to see you again, my lady. Your presence here lightens my heart.”
“What a sweet thing to say.” Diana lifted Sally’s chin with her finger and studied her. “You are looking much healthier, I notice.”
“I feel much better.” Sally smiled. “Soon I will be ready to obtain employment elsewhere.”
Chuckling, Diana shook her head. “Let’s not rush it. For now, you are welcome to stay here and assist Tabitha.”
Diana removed her bonnet and gloves as she strode to the stairs. “But for now, I’m going to retire to my room to rest. I fear the journey—and the turmoil on my mind—have exhausted me greatly.”
“We shall prepare a mid-day meal while you rest,” Tabitha said cheerfully.
“I thank you. I don’t plan on resting for very long, so please wake me when the meal is ready.”
Just as she placed her foot on the first step, thunder boomed through the house, shaking the walls. Within seconds after that, rain pelted the roof, sounding more like rocks were striking the cottage. She groaned. Perhaps she wouldn’t get any rest at all.
Once she walked into her room, she realized the howling wind was in competition with the hard rain to see which one could be nosier. She threw her bonnet and gloves on the vanity before flopping down on her bed. A lamp had been lit, but the dark clouds made the room much darker than Diana had expected.
She stood and went to the lamp to adjust the lighting. As she turned back to the bed and removed her cloak, a tree from outside knocked against the side of the house. Thunder boomed in the air again, but this time it sounded like men’s voices…even Tristan.
Chuckling, Diana rationalized that because she wanted to see Tristan so badly, she could imagine him and actually hear his voice. These next three days were going to pass slowly, she just knew it. She couldn’t wait to be in his arms again, gazing lovingly into his dreamy eyes, and hearing his husky tone…
Another sound ricocheted through the air and she swung toward the door, listening closer. Tabitha’s voice was raised, but not with excitement, nor was it lifted in panic. It was more like she meant to warn…
Quickly, Diana rushed out of her room and to the top of the stairs. The voices were more precise now, and there were definitely visitors in the house. By the tingles running up and down her arms, she knew Tristan was here.
With her heart beating happily, she hurried down the stairs to greet the man she loved, but as soon as she rested her gaze on the people in the room, her feet skid to a halt. Lord Hawthorne? What was he doing here?
Both men were drenched from head to toe and shucking out of their soaked cloaks. Although they had removed their hats, each man’s hair was saturated to their head. The rain pelting against the cottage reminded her of the storm swirling around them.
Diana took a quick survey of who stood in the room, and her heart sank when she noticed Sally still here. The maid stood in the corner of the room, twirling a blonde lock of hair around her finger as she stared at the floor, appearing as if she wanted to crawl in a hole and hide. Tabitha stood next to her—cheeks bright with fury—as she’d been talking, but upon seeing Diana, the young woman’s chatting ceased.
Diana swu
ng her attention back to Tristan. Although he smiled at her, his expression was faux. Distrust coated his gaze. Within a split second, her heart cried out as guilt swept over her like waves of despair.
She wasn’t foolish enough to believe he was here for their secret get-away holiday, especially since he’d brought Lord Hawthorne with him. So then why had Tristan come…and in the rain?
Deep down inside she knew. Tristan was here for answers and nothing less.
Silently, she prayed he would believe her and understand when she confessed the truth.
Chapter Sixteen
Taking a deep breath, Tristan prayed for courage…courage to hold strong and demand to know the truth from Diana. He also needed the courage to keep his heart from melting every time he looked into her fascinating green eyes. Her lovely orbs had always had an enchanting effect on him that made him lose his mind several times since he’d first met her. How could one woman have this kind of control over his senses? If he discovered she was withholding the truth from him, his heart—and mind—wouldn’t be able to take it.
A shiver ran through him that had nothing to do with the coldness seeping into his drenched limbs.
“Lord Tristan. Lord Hawthorne. What a surprise it is to see you here.” Diana stepped toward them to take their cloaks. Tabitha rushed to help assist.
Tristan peeled his cloak off his shoulders and handed it to Diana while Nic did the same, giving his to the maid. Tristan moved his attention from beautiful Diana, past Tabitha and to the corner of the room.
A girl, slightly younger than Tabitha, stood still, acting as if she was afraid to move and appearing as if she wished she were a part of the wall. This must be the maid Nic had mentioned. Her pale face and downcast gaze let him know she did not want to be seen…and appeared to be frightened, like a mouse caught in a trap.
“Please come over here by the fire to warm yourselves,” Diana encouraged. “Today’s storm was certainly fierce and so very unexpected.”
He followed her to the fireplace, watching her reaction closely. It was obvious by her wide eyes and over-exuberant greeting that she tried to turn an uncomfortable situation into a good one. She also fidgeted too much, which meant she was nervous…more nervous than she should be, in his opinion.
He switched his focus to Tabitha. The young woman acted the same way around Nic, except she didn’t try to talk to him. Hawthorne, however, trained his suspicious gaze on her directly.
“Lady Hollingsworth,” Tristan began and he rubbed his palms up and down his arms, trying to circulate warmth back in his body, “forgive us for this surprise visit, but it was most urgent that I speak with you. Regretfully, Lord Hawthorne and I had no idea we would be caught in the rainstorm, so I hope we have not burdened you in any way.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Diana brushed her hand in the air. “You are always welcome here, Lord Tristan.” She glanced behind Tristan at Dominic. “And you as well, Lord Hawthorne.”
“You are very kind, Lady Hollingsworth.”
“I fear,” Diana continued, “that I don’t have any extra clothes for the two of you to change into while we dry your wet ones.”
“Actually,” Tabitha hastily cut in, “your grandmother was a large lady if I recall, Lady Hollingsworth.” She ran her gaze slowly over Nic, and Tristan was surprised to see disgust instead of interest when she looked at his friend. “So I’m certain if Lord Hawthorne wouldn’t mind wearing a nightgown—”
“I appreciate your concern,” Nic quickly replied, “but I would rather catch pneumonia than be seen wearing a lady’s nightgown—or any gown, for that matter.”
Tabitha glared at Nic, looking as if fire would shoot out of her eyes any moment. Tristan bit his lip to hold back a laugh. This was the first time he’d ever seen a woman not fall all over herself trying to impress Lord Hawthorne. This definitely couldn’t be good for Nic’s ego.
“Be that as it may,” Tristan said, hoping not to encourage Tabitha and Nic into starting a heated argument, “I think standing by the fire will dry us quickly enough.”
“Are you certain?” Diana asked in a tender voice. “I could find some woolen blankets and you two could wrap yourself in those while your clothes are drying.”
He smiled softly at her—it was hard not to. “I suppose we could do that.”
“Come,” she said, turning toward the stairs, “you and Lord Hawthorne can use the guest bedroom to change. Tabitha?” She glanced at the maid. “Will you find me two blankets, and Sally will you get started on our meal? I’m certain the men are extremely hungry after their long excursion.”
“As you wish, my lady.” The women chimed together then moved out of the room, heading in different directions.
“Gentlemen?” Diana aimed her attention on Tristan. “If you will follow me, I shall show you to the chamber.”
As Diana led the way, Nic nudged Tristan with his elbow then motioned his head toward the door Sally had exited and mouthed the words, that’s her. Tristan nodded, but didn’t say anything to his friend. Instead, he wanted answers from Diana first.
Marching ahead of him, he wondered what her big hurry was. He grasped her elbow in a loose hold, slowing her down a bit. She looked over her shoulder at him. “Diana, who is the new girl? She wasn’t here before.”
Her eyes widened and her attention jumped between him and Nic. “Her name is Sally. I thought she could help out Tabitha for a while.”
“How very thoughtful of you.” He really didn’t know what else to say. Getting serious about a conversation as this point in the evening was useless. If he said something to upset her, she’d send him away, and in this downpour that wasn’t such a good idea. It was best to prolong their much needed conversation until sunset. Diana wouldn’t send him out of the house then. She was too much a lady to do that.
She led them into the bedroom before moving to the fireplace to lay some logs on. Taking fast steps, he hurried to her and grabbed the piece of wood out of her hand.
“Allow me to make my own fire,” he told her. “It’s the least I can do for showing up unannounced.”
Her stare delved deep into his eyes before slowly moving over his face. “Tristan, why are you here? What was the great urgency to speak with me?” Her voice was low.
He shook his head. “Not now. There will be plenty of time for us to talk once I’m out of these wet clothes.”
The shuffling of feet pulled his focus from Diana toward the doorway as Tabitha entered. She handed a blanket to Nic—almost shoved it at him, actually—then nicely handed Tristan a blanket.
“Thank you,” he told the maid.
“I shall leave you to change now,” Diana spoke calmly. “Just place your wet clothes outside the door and Tabitha and Sally will hang them above the fire to dry.”
As Tabitha walked past Nic, she turned up her nose at him. Hawthorne gripped her arm, stopping her and piercing her with his hard stare. “I better not see burns in my clothes caused by your careless hand.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Indeed, my lord, I had not thought of such a thing, but now…”
“Tabitha,” Diana warned. “I assure you, Lord Hawthorne, your clothes will not be burned.”
When the ladies left and the door was closed behind them, Tristan breathed a ragged sigh. Although wet and weary, the worst of the evening was yet to come.
“By Jove, my good man,” Nic said with a sudden cheerful voice, “I believe you put on a splendid performance.”
Gritting his teeth, Tristan glared at his friend as he started to remove his neck cloth. Traveling to the cottage had been a long journey, and his friend’s humor had grated on his nerves for the last time today. “Oh really? What gave it away? My sarcastic tone? The hard set of my jaw as I gnashed my teeth? Or was it the distrust that I’m sure Diana saw in my eyes?”
Nic tilted his head and gave Tristan a quizzical stare. “Honestly, was that called for?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m referring
to your vicious attitude.”
Blowing out a frustrated breath, Tristan finished removing the neck cloth and shrugged out of his waistcoat. “My apologies, my friend. I’m in a sour mood, and I should not be vexed with you. After all, if you had not overheard the two maids, I would still have my head in the clouds feeling an abundance of lover’s bliss.”
Nic scowled. “Are you saying I should have held my tongue?” He shook his head as he yanked off his waist jacket. “Forgive me for thinking that kind of news was important. All that was going through my mind was imagining the trouble you would get in if the truth wasn’t discovered soon. I did not want to see that happen to you.”
Tristan waved his hand in the air. “You misunderstood, Hawthorne. I’m grateful you told me, but at the same time, my heart is broken because the woman I have loved for so long is deceiving me. That is why I have a rotten disposition.”
“Of course, Worthington. I understand. I shall try not to poke fun at your expense any longer. I cannot even imagine how you must feel right now.”
“I thank you, Hawthorne. I pray you will never have your heart broken like this. Then again—” Tristan scratched his chin, “it would be a miracle if you ever gave your heart to a woman at all.”
Nic laughed loudly. “That miracle will never happen, I assure you. I shall remain a bachelor for the rest of my life.”
After removing his shirt, Tristan knelt in front of the hearth and threw the logs in. “You never did tell me why you are like this.”
“What do you mean?”
He struck the flint. “Why are you so reluctant to fall in love?”
“Worthington,” Nic said as he struggled to get his wet shirt over his head, “there are many things you don’t know about me. Why are you so certain I have never given my heart to a woman? Perhaps I have been burned in the past, which is why I don’t want to do it again.”
The Sweetest Love (Sons of Worthington Series) Page 18
