The girl’s head snapped up, and she looked at Tabitha. “Yes?”
“What would you think if I decided to live here?”
The blonde maid’s eyes widened, and she smiled. “Are you jesting?”
“Not at all.”
“Why would you want to live here? Don’t you like York?”
Tabitha shrugged. “York is a nice town, but I haven’t felt very comfortable there. Perhaps it’ll grow on me soon enough, but North Devon seems so peaceful. Nobody is rushing around. So far from what I’ve seen, the people are pleasant and very welcoming. Things are just so…serene.”
“Yes, they are. I have enjoyed myself so far. It is definitely a relaxing place—compared to York, anyway.”
“I agree.” Tabitha linked her hands together at her back as she stepped slowly along the grassy edge. “I have realized how nice it is to be close to my only living relative as well.”
“What about your brothers? Are they not your family now?”
“They are.” Tabitha gazed out across the sea. “But I have only just met them. With Aunt Clara, I have some memories of when I was a child and my mother was still alive.” She sighed heavily. “I would like to stay out here at least until my aunt dies.”
“That’s understandable.”
Tabitha glanced back at Sally. “Is that all right if we stay, then?”
The maid’s smile broadened. “Absolutely.”
“Splendid.” Satisfaction spread over Tabitha as she continued her walk. It was so lovely out here. She was surprised that there weren’t more people taking a late morning stroll. From the corner of her eye, she noticed one other person out walking.
She stopped and studied the man as he grew closer by the second. Her heartbeat sped up, and that familiar, uneasy feeling enveloped her. She recognized his swagger even if he used a walking stick, and she tried to convince herself that this wasnotNic. This was the clergyman. But would Mr. Woodland walk like his cousin? Would the shape of his face have the same curves as Nic’s? Something deep inside her told her that this wasnotMr. Woodland, but Nic in disguise.
There was only one way to find out. She must force herself to talk to him. She must study him completely. Not only that, she must rely on her heart to convey to her who this man really was.
“Good day,” he called out, lifting his hand in greeting.
She smiled, mainly for show. “Good day, Mr. Woodland. It’s nice to see you out walking.”
He stopped beside her and nodded. “On days like this, how could I stay inside when the Lord has offered such beauty for me to observe and enjoy?”
The flip of her heart reminded her that Nic would say something like this, especially because he stared right at her instead of looking across the ocean or at the breathtaking cliffs.
“That’s why Sally and I had to take a stroll. Would you like to join us?”
“Indeed, I would.”
He kept in step beside her as Sally walked a few steps back. Although Tabitha shouldn’t make a spectacle of herself by staring at him, how else could she study him to see if he was really the cocksure marquess she remembered? This man’s hair was shorter than what Nic’s had looked like the last time they were together, but the areas of white in his dark locks made her pause. Then again, men powdered their hair all the time. Maybe he had done the same. However, that beard was throwing her off. Nic had a dimple in the middle of his chin, but because this man had hair covering that spot, she wouldn’t be able to see if it were there.
Another thing that was evident was the size of his clothes. They were very large on him. She recalled Mrs. Stiles mentioning how much weight he’d lost. Yet, from what Tabitha had heard, Mr. Woodland was only ill for a few weeks. She had been by her mother’s side when sickness had taken her parent’s life, and her mother hadn’t lost that much weight in such a small amount of time.
She moved her focus back to his eyes…eyes that looked so much like Nic’s that it was disturbing. That wink and twinkle could only belong to one man.
“Miss Tabitha,” he began with a grin, “I must wonder why you are looking at me so strangely.”
She hitched a breath and quickly pulled out of her serious thoughts. “Forgive me, Mr. Woodland. You just remind me of someone I met a few months ago.”
“I do?” He arched an eyebrow. “I hope this man is a ruggedly handsome fellow. I wouldn’t like it very much if I reminded you of an old man with no teeth.”
A laugh sprang from her mouth. That was the kind of arrogant thing Nic would say. She didn’t know the clergyman well enough to know if he could be so vain. Then again, from what she’d heard about him from her aunt and Mrs. Stiles, Mr. Woodland was an angel sent from heaven. In that case, the preacher wouldnotbe so vain.
“Rest assured, Mr. Woodland, the man I speak of is young and vibrant, and too handsome for his own good.” She tried to keep her voice even instead of clipped with sarcasm. “And I assure you, he has all of his teeth.”
