“Splendid. I shall tell her to continue helping in the kitchen.”
Diana didn’t say anymore, and neither did she move. Her gaze studied his face slowly, and soon guilt laced her eyes. She stepped closer and touched his cheek tenderly.
“Tristan, something is amiss. I can see it in your expression.” Her voice was low for their ears only. “You are worrying me by not telling me what is wrong.”
“Shh…” He reached out and clasped her hand with his. “I will explain, but not now. Wait until my clothes are dry first and I can dress completely before we talk.”
“I fear I cannot wait.”
“And I fear my dear,” he said with a chuckle, “that if I talk to you like this, my blanket might slip from around me and fall to the floor.” He shook his head. “What a scandal that would be, surely.”
The corner of her lips lifted into a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I do understand your dilemma.” She released a long breath. “I shall try to be patient. And while I’m waiting, would you and Lord Hawthorne like me to bring up some port for you?”
“Port?” Nic said from behind him in a most anxious voice. “You have port?”
Tristan wanted to laugh, but refrained.
“Yes, Lord Hawthorne,” she answered in a louder voice.
“Then we shall certainly enjoy our port, thank you Diana.” Tristan smiled.
She turned and headed back down the stairs. He watched her as long as he could until she was out of his vision. His throat tightened with emotion, yet anger flared inside him at the same time.
He closed the door and stormed to the bed before plopping down. His head pounded in frustration and all he wanted to do was shake some sense into her. Yet touching her would make him want to pull her against him, hold her tight, and taste her sweet lips.
“Do you think she knows?” Nic asked.
“Yes.”
“What will you tell her?”
“I shall tell her what I suspect, what I feel, and what I think we should do about Tabitha.”
Nic walked away from the fireplace and to the window where he leaned his shoulder against the wall as he stared out into the rainy evening. “What will you do if she doesn’t agree?”
“I do not know,” Tristan answered in a whisper as he stared down at the blue and brown quilt on the bed. “As much as I love her and want to spend the rest of my life making her happy, I cannot have lies between us. I want to trust her. I want to believe she loves me more than her maid.” He looked up at his friend. “Is that selfish to think in such a way?”
“Not at all.” Nic drew his finger on the windowpane.
“Why then do I feel so guilty for making her choose?”
Shrugging, Nic looked Tristan’s way. “Probably because you areforcingher to make a decision. Yet, if you think about it, this is something Diana should have already decided. She knows right from wrong. If she knows Tabitha killed those two lords then Diana needs to do the right thing. Because Tabitha is her friend, Diana will need encouragement, which of course is where you will help out.”
Tristan groaned and covered his hands over his face. “Why is life so difficult? Why can it not be perfect all the time?”
A chuckle came from his friend. “You are askingme? Sorry my good man, but I am not a man of the cloth who has all the Divine answers.”
The hilarity of Nic’s comment made Tristan grin and he dropped his hands. “So true. Out of all the professions in England, being a clergyman does not suit you, I’m afraid.”
“I agree.” Nic nodded. “So let’s not speak of this again for fear I will receive this calling from God as punishment for all the women I’ve wronged in my life. That is certainly something I do not want for my future.”
“The future,” Tristan muttered as a frown reclaimed his face. “What I would not give to know the future.”
“What weallwould not give,” Nic said then leaned his head back against the wall. “Did you ever picture your life would be this way when you were younger?”
“No. For years I knew I would be the one brother who married for love, but now I see my other two brothers have beaten me to it. The one thing that has been driving me these past few years—since returning from the dead—was knowing I didnotwant to turn out like my father in any shape or form. Father died not long after I had fallen over the cliffs. He died alone and had many enemies, pretty much like Lord Hollingsworth and Elliot. Women hated them and others looked down on them.” He shook his head. “I do not want to end my life as they have.”
“Perfectly understandable.” Nic rubbed a hand over his arm. “Let’s pray neither of us end up in such a way.
