The pieces of the puzzle began to click together, and Tristan felt a cold sense of dread settle over him. He was trapped in a web far more complicated than he had ever imagined, and it seemed the past he thought he had buried was about to resurface in the most dangerous way possible.
“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 first met her, but it was nearly impossible. Now she was a luscious beauty. Shaking his head, he pushed away the thought. Thinking of her this way wasnothealthy. Something in his forgotten memory told him not to trust her.
Slowly, her gaze swept over every inch of him, taking in the sight of him bound to the chair, vulnerable and at her mercy. Tristan’s breath hitched as their eyes locked in the heavy silence. It was as though time had collapsed in on itself, and for a moment, he forgot everything—forgot why he was here, forgot the chains that bound him, forgot even the bitter years that had passed between them. All he could remember was how she had once made him feel. How, three years ago, a single glance from her had turned his world upside down, reducing his mind to mush. She had bewitched him then, made him believe he was in love—helplessly, completely.
But not now. Not anymore.
He swallowed hard, trying to harden his resolve, to cling to the anger and betrayal he had nursed for so long. This was his chance—his moment to confront her, to finally dredge up the past and cast her out of his thoughts for good. He needed to tear down the illusions he had built around her, the fantasies that had lingered in his heart despite everything. Confronting Diana might be the only way to banish her ghost from his mind forever.
Yet the reality of it—the sight of her standing there, a mixture of pain and defiance in her eyes—shook him. The thought that she had gone to such great lengths to kidnap him, to drag him to this remote place, made his chest tighten. She was now his captor, a role he never could have imagined for her. According to her maid, she despised him, hated him with a passion so fierce it had driven her to this.
But as he looked at her now, with all the bitterness and heartbreak swirling between them, he couldn’t help but wonder—was hate really all that remained? Or was there something more buried beneath the weight of their past, something neither of them could truly let go?
“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 sawhim, 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 canbothgo to prison for this.” She covered her face with her hands as her fingers rubbed circles on her temple.
“No, my lady.” Tabitha rushed to Diana’s side and placed her palm on her shoulder. “It will be his word against ours. Nobody saw, I assure you.”
“Lady Hollingsworth,” Tristan said once he found his voice. “What a surprise to see you—and in your nightclothes, no less.”
Diana’s hands dropped to her side as her perplexed eyes locked on 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 over 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 penny 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 yourlovingfiancée’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 churned within Diana, twisting her heart into a painful knot. Tristan’s words echoed in her ears—shoved over the cliffs?—each syllable landing like a blow. What was he talking about?
Her mind raced, but her body remained frozen, rooted in place by the weight of the situation spiraling out of control. She should act. Shehadto act. Scolding Tabitha for her role in this mess was high on her list, but right now, all she could do was stare, her breath hitching as Tristan and the maid exchanged venomous words.
Diana’s gaze flitted between them, her pulse quickening with every accusation that filled the air like sparks from a fire. What was she supposed to do? Tristan wasn’t just anyone—he was the brother of a duke, and if he took his grievances to the magistrate, there would be no escaping the consequences. Both she and Tabitha would be dragged to Newgate in chains, accused of kidnapping a man whose name carried too much weight for them to evade justice.
Think, Diana. Think.She needed a plan, an excuse, a way to smooth over this disaster before it imploded completely. But her mind betrayed her, sluggish and clouded by emotions she couldn’t suppress. Seeing him this close—seeing him vulnerable, angry, and wounded—was her undoing. The sharp planes of his face, the intensity in his eyes, the tension radiating from his posture—it all overwhelmed her.
