Her chest rose and fell as she struggled to breathe evenly, to regain control, but her thoughts remained scattered, like autumn leaves in a gust of wind. The man she had once loved was here, mere steps away, but this wasn’t the reunion she had ever imagined. Instead of reconciliation, there was chaos. Instead of understanding, there was fury. And she had no idea how to fix it.
“My lord,” Tabitha continued, “you are making no sense at all. Thisisabout revenge, but we will see it doneourway.”
“You cannot be serious,” Tristan grumbled.
Tabitha laughed bitterly. “I am very serious, my lord. Men like you don’t deserve happiness when you take it from others.”
“Pray, what do you think to accomplish by kidnapping me?”
A grin stole across the maid’s mouth. “I plan to ruin you just as you have ruined Lady Hollingsworth.”
“Kidnapping is going to ruin my reputation?” He barked out a laugh. “I think you have figured this all wrong.”
“Actually, I have planned this out perfectly,” Tabitha snapped. “You see, your servants know you were hesitant about the upcoming marriage to Lady Fairbourne. Even the men you were drinking with at the tavern knew you really didn’t want to get married. Because of that, no one will doubt that you fled your own wedding.”
“What about my driver? Wouldn’t he be able to confirm that someone else took his place?”
Tabitha shook her head. “Not whenyouwere the one who climbed in the wrong vehicle.”
Groaning, Tristan closed his eyes.
Diana gasped and stared at her maid. “Lord Tristan wasthatdrunk?”
Laughing, Tabitha nodded. “Indeed, he was, my lady. When I saw him stumble out of the tavern and go to the wrong coach, I knew fate was lending me a hand.” Her grin widened. “And earlier, before that happened, I snuck into his townhouse and left missives on his desk that will lead his family to discover the purpose for his absence.”
She turned her focus back on Tristan, whose glare was now aimed at Tabitha. “The missive is from a woman you’ve been meeting secretly for the past few months.” She shrugged. “What other conclusion could they come to except you ran out on your own wedding? The last I heard, a gentleman’s reputation becomes tarnished by doing this.”
“Tabitha?” Diana asked in a harsh voice. “I thought you told me you were going into town for some supplies.”
A blush stole across the maid’s face. “Well, to be honest, my main goal was to set up Lord Tristan and kidnap him. Can I help it if fate lent me a helping hand?”
Diana blew out an agitated breath as doom began to close around her. She needed to think of a way out of this mess, and soon! “But it doesn’t hide the fact that what you did was wrong, and you could suffer greatly for this mistake.”
“Forgive me, my lady. I was only trying to get back at him. I only had your best interests in mind.”
Tristan’s face hardened and anger darkened his blue eyes. “I see you have thought long and hard about your revenge. And Lady Hollingsworth, I commend you for finding such a loyal servant.”
“Indeed, my lord. It wasn’t until now that I realized what a godsend Tabitha is to me.”
Diana’s breath hitched as she stepped closer, daring to brush the lock of dark hair falling across Tristan’s forehead with her trembling fingers. The moment her skin met the soft strands, memories crashed over her, drowning her in a tide of emotions she’d tried so hard to bury. It felt as if no time had passed, as if it were just yesterday that his arms had encircled her, holding her in a way that had made her believe the world could fall away, and they would still be safe together.
Back then, she had been so young, so naïve—so utterly captivated by him. She had believed in dreams, in whispered promises beneath the moonlight, in the magic of forever. But forever hadn’t lasted, and the pain of that truth had shaped her into someone harder, someone who knew better than to believe in fairytales. Or so she thought.
But now, with her fingers brushing against him, her heart betrayed her. It fluttered wildly, refusing to obey the logic she had lived by for so long. She hated him. She had to hate him. The pain of their past—the betrayal, the heartbreak—was proof enough. And yet, in this fragile moment, with his warmth so close, the line between love and hate blurred, leaving her suspended in a dizzying limbo.
Her hand trembled as she pulled it away, her chest tightening with the confusion that swirled within her. How could he still have this effect on her after everything he’d done? After everythingshehad done? The answer eluded her, but one thing was certain: even now, standing on opposite sides of a battlefield they had created together, Tristan could still make her feel alive. And she hated that most of all.
“I’ve spent three long and miserable years wishing things were different,” she confessed, “and in all that time, I had such wicked thoughts of how I could humiliate you as you have humiliated me.”
The longer she toyed with his hair, the more the color in his eyes lightened, and the creases around his mouth relaxed. Could he feel the spark that had always happened between them when they touched? She hoped not.
“I heard you had left for Paris right after you and Ludlow were married,” he said in a softer tone.
She withdrew her hand and stepped back. “I did, but just as I’d gotten used to the routine of having a life once again, something always happened to ruin it. There was always someone who’d heard about the duel. Ludlow seemed to blossom because of what happened, but I wilted like a poisoned flower.”
He glanced around the room. “So where are we now? Who lives here?”
“This used to be my maternal grandmother’s house. She died three months past. A fortnight ago, I decided to come here and stay for a while. Ludlow’s murder was suffocating me, especially all the rumors.”
