Finally, after too much silence, Tristan expelled a heavy breath. “It has come to my attention that you might know the true identity of the person who killed your husband and Lord Elliot.”
All the thoughts speeding through her head came to a sudden halt and she gasped. “Pardon me? You think I know who killed my husband? Pray, enlighten me, because I can assure you, I do not know such a thing.”
The rubbing of her knuckles stopped, but he didn’t release her hands. “Diana, please be honest with me. If we are to have a relationship it must be based on trust. Youcantrust me. I am nothing like Hollingsworth, I assure you.”
Confusion filled her and she shook her head. “I fear your words are most alarming, and I know not what they mean. Indeed, you are nothing like Ludlow, and I can assure you that I trust you with my life and heart.”
“Then why do you hold the truth from the magistrate about the killer? The longer you put off telling him, the longer we have to wait until we can be together.”
She pulled a hand from his and rubbed the pound in her forehead. “Please, Tristan. Tell me what you are talking about, because you have me most confused. What am I withholding from the magistrate or from you?”
“The identity of the murderer.”
Frustration filled her and made her jittery. She stood and moved toward the fireplace. “Do you not think I would tell the magistrate if I knew? I assure you, if I knew their identity, I would say something. I want to be with you without anyone being suspicious.” Stopping, she looked over her shoulder at him. “Why do you believe I know this person’s identity?”
“Diana, I overheard you speaking with Tabitha and Sally while you were cooking. I had come down from the room and heard you outside the kitchen door. I dared not enter because I could not believe what all of you were saying.” Slowly he stood and made his way to her side. “Diana, I really think Tabitha is the one who killed your husband and my cousin.”
Shocked, a loud gasp escaped her throat before she could stop it. “Pardon me? You believe Tabitha…myTabitha is a murderer?”
“Indeed, the same. Is there another Tabitha?”
Although their conversation was not comical, she couldn’t stop the laugh bubbling up from her chest. “You honestly think Tabitha killed Ludlow and Elliot? I can assure you, my lord, that you are sadly mistaken.”
“You canassureme? How so, may I ask?”
Her mind scrambled for a reason to give, but she couldn’t come up with one. She justknewher friend—a friend she had known for years and considered a sister—could not have done such a thing.
Or could she?
Shaking the negative thought from her mind, she frowned and glared at Tristan. “How dare you accuse Tabitha?”
“Oh, I dare.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Especially when I heard her confession of wanting to kill Ludlow and Elliot. You were in the room with her, did you not hear her say those very words?”
“Well, yes, but…” She shook her head. “She was not confessing to a murder, she was voicing her thoughts. She, along with Sally, has every right to hate men like my husband and your cousin. If I have withheld anything from you, it’s this…” She took a deep breath and slowly released it. “Because of Ludlow’s treatment toward me, I cannot abide men like that abusing their servants, or their wives. There are many of us in England, Tristan. Were you aware of that? Even Lady Dashwood was abused not only by her husband, but her father. Together Claudia and I have taken it upon ourselves to rescue these women from their most unfortunate situations. Tabitha and Sally are no more killers than Claudia and I are.”
Tristan stared at her as his frown intensified. Anger filled her quickly as she continued, “Tristan, it hurts me that you cannot trustme.Do you honestly believe that I would become friends with a murderer? Tabitha may have hard feelings for men who beat women, but she is not a killer just because she has thought about it. I had thoughts about wanting my husband dead, so does that make me a murderer in your eyes?”
“No,” he said in almost a whisper.
“So then why do you think that about Tabitha?”
“Because everything adds up,” he explained. “Tabitha’s anger toward men is the key, Diana. Have you not noticed how she acts toward Hawthorne?”
“Well yes, but that doesn’t prove—”
“I have not met one woman who hasn’t nearly swooned when Hawthorne smiles at them, yet Tabitha does the opposite of most women and throws perpetual invisible daggers at him. Not only that, but she is devoted to you. She will do anything to protect you, Diana… even kill. And because she was beaten, I would not judge her for wanting those men dead.” He stepped closer. “Tell me, where was Tabitha the night Hollingsworth was found stabbed to death?”
Tears swam in Diana’s eyes but she refused to let them fall. “She was here at the cottage. Two days prior to my husband’s death, I had taken Tabitha out of Lord Elliot’s house because he had beaten her severely.”
“So, in her condition, would she have been able to travel without her master stopping her?”
Diana scowled. “You cannot be serious! Tristan, have you ever seen a beaten woman? Her eyes were swollen nearly closed, and she had bruises all over her body. She was as weak as a kitten.”
Tristan exhaled a frustrated sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. “Oh, Diana, forgive me. I’m just trying to piece things together. I’m so sorry that Tabitha was hurt by my cousin, and I wish I had known so I could have stopped it.” He shook his head. “I’m just trying to make sense of all of this. I have a gut feeling that Tabitha is the killer, she has motive, and I fear I cannot shake that from my mind.”
She fisted her hands by her side as she thought back to that day. “You are just going to have to try, Tristan, because Tabitha did not do it!” A tear slipped down her face. Sadness washed over her, but not because she thought her maid guilty, but because she didn’t know how to change his mind. “Tristan, how can I make you believe? Do you not trustme?”
He met her gaze and nodded. “I do, my sweet Diana, but I fear your love for the maid has clouded your judgment.”
