Embarrassment crept over him, along with shame. He scolded his feelings. He shouldnotbe ashamed for kissing Tabitha and enjoying it. So then why did he feel this way? “Why don’t you believe I was truthful?”
“Are you jesting?” She snorted what sounded like a laugh. “There you were trying your hardest to seduce me, all the while suspecting me of murder. For a brief moment, your actions earlier showed me what a kind, gentle, and understanding man you were. For a brief moment I actually thought you were attracted to me, impossible as it may seem. Yet that was all a lie. I had known what kind of man you were, but you tried to convince me otherwise. Now I know I had been right about you all along.”
“How do you know I was lying?”
“Ha!” She shook her head. “You honestly think I’m that foolish?”
“What if I tell you that for a moment I had been attracted to you, and I had enjoyed our kiss?”
She snickered. “Then I would say you were a great performer, because why would you enjoy a mere maid’s kisses when you have seduced many women over the years?”
Nic bit his tongue to keep from saying anymore. He shouldn’t have said what he had to begin with. He didn’t want to admit, especially to her, how much their kiss had meant to him. “Then it appears we are both talented performers. Does it not?”
“I, my lord, am not a performer.”
“Then neither am I.” He pulled her closer as he lowered his head. His attention dropped to her lips—lips that tempted him to sample them again.
She sucked in a quick breath and her mouth parted in invitation.Good heavens!What was he thinking? He couldn’t possibly kiss her even as much as the idea lured him.
“Lord Hawthorne,” she whispered, “I beg you not to do that.”
“Do what?” he asked quietly.
“You know exactly what I’m referring to. Kissing me will not solve a thing. You still believe I’m a killer, and I still think of you as one of the most despicable rogues in England.”
He swallowed hard to moisten the cotton that had formed in his throat. She was correct again, blast it! He could not kiss her. He could not also understand why her statement hurt so badly, like a knife through his chest.
“Indeed, it won’t solve a thing.” Reluctantly, he released her and stepped back.
She gathered the cloak tighter around her neck before pulling on her hood. She turned to leave, but hesitated. For some foolish reason, anticipation shot through him, quickening his heartbeat.
“Lord Hawthorne,” she whispered and looked at him over her shoulder. “If you really cared about your friend, you would try your hardest to find thetruekiller so that Lord Tristan and Lady Hollingsworth can be together. They have waited too long to share their love, and until the real murderer is caught, they will never be fully happy. I’m just a mere maid so there isn’t much I can do to help my lady in this dire situation, but you can. Lord Hawthorne, if you put your mind to it, you can help your friend finally obtain happiness.”
She didn’t wait for his answer before hurrying outside. Nic stared at the closed door for the longest time as her words ran through his mind. The more and more he thought about what she said, the more doubt filled him.
Would a killer be so selfless and think about her friend’s happiness more than her own?
Deep in his heart, he knew the answer.
“Who was that?” Tristan’s voice came from behind him.
Nic jumped and spun around. Tristan was still on his bedroll, but sitting up looking Nic’s way. “That was Tabitha.” He walked closer to his friend.
“What was she doing here?”
“She came to tell us that Diana has invited us back in the house for the night because of the storm, but we are to leave first thing in the morning.”
Nodding, Tristan adjusted himself on the ground, draping his arms over his bent knees. “I’m glad to know she has come to her senses, at least about that.”
The confusion thickened in Nic’s head, giving him a headache. He grumbled and strode to his blanket before plopping down on the covering. “Worthington? What if we’re wrong?”
Tristan’s head didn’t move, just his gaze as it rested on him. “Wrong about what?”
“About Tabitha.”
“What makes you think we are wrong?”
Nic sighed as he picked off some of the hay from the blanket. “During my talk with Tabitha earlier tonight, I saw a part of her I hadn’t noticed before. And, just a moment ago,” he motioned his head toward the stall where they’d talked, “I noticed the same thing.” He lifted his gaze and met Tristan’s. “Would a cold blooded killer think of others when her life hung by a thread?”
