He chuckled. “That’s good to know. So tell me, who is this man?”
“Funny you should ask. I was informed this morning that he’s a relative of yours.”
His steps faltered until he stopped completely. “My relative?”
“Yes. His name is Dominic Lawrence, the Marquess of Hawthorne.”
“Then you have heard correctly. Hawthorne is my cousin. In fact”—he scratched his chin—“he was here for a little while, but he had business back home, so he left.”
“Then no wonder I see him when I look at you.” She forced herself to smile even though she loathed every second of it. “I was beginning to wonder if the man I’d briefly known had taken on a different title.” She tilted her head. “The man I knew wouldnothave made a good clergyman.”
He threw back his head and belted out a laugh. “Oh, Miss Tabitha, you are correct to assume such a thing. My wickedcousin couldn’t do what I do.” He rested his hand gently on her arm. “But if you see him, don’t tell him I said that. After all, he’s still my favorite cousin.”
Warmth spread through her limb from just his light touch. There was only one man who could elicit this kind of reaction from her body. At this moment, her heart told her this was indeed Dominic Lawrence.
She gritted her teeth, keeping herself from spouting angry words. If Nic was playing a game, she would play along just to see why he was impersonating a minister. She didn’t doubt he had a cousin whom her aunt and the rest of the town knew as Mr. Woodland, but the man standing next to her now was most assuredly Lord Hawthorne.
“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t think of telling him that, Mr. Woodland. In fact, I wouldn’t want to tell him anything at all. You see, we aren’t on speaking terms right now.”
He had the nerve to look surprised. What a great performer he was. She resisted rolling her eyes, but it was hard.
“You’re not? But why would such a charming, lovely woman not want to speak to my roguish cousin?”
Another chuckle slipped through her lips. Funny that he would think of himself as charming. The roguish part was right, however. “Mr. Woodland, I’m not like the kind of women your cousin sweeps off their feet. I was able to see through his trickery and call him out on it. He didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t woo me as he was used to doing with other ladies.”
He nodded. “And I assume that only served to injure his pride.”
“I believe it did. It also made him think he could keep trying to win me over.”
He sucked in a quick breath. “Oh, what a pompous man to believe such a thing.”
“Yes…pompous is exactly what he is. His attitude is what turned me away.”
Frowning, he shook his head as he turned and resumed walking. “I just don’t understand my cousin sometimes.”
“Me neither.” She kept beside him, continuing to study his expressions. “But I really don’t wish to.”
“You don’t?”
“Not now. Several months ago he accused me of something so vile that I cannot forgive him.”
“Never? Oh, Miss Tabitha, you must forgive him. Have you not read the Good Book? God wants us to forgive—”
“Yes, I’ve read the Good Book, and although I might be sinning for refusing to forgive Lord Hawthorne, I just cannot. Not yet.”
“But it’s been six months.”
Her mind came to a halt. Had she told him how long it’d been? No, she specifically remembered telling himseveralinstead of an actual number. Only Nic would know it had been that long ago. She highly doubted the clergyman would know.
She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. My heart is not allowing me to forgive him.”
He stopped again and leaned on his walking stick. “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?”
“Nothing.”
“Well, I shall pray for you that your heart may be softened soon.”
She fisted her hands and quickly folded her arms to keep him from seeing. “I thank you for your concern, Mr. Woodland.”
