“What has you so irritated?”
Once his overcoat was removed, he worked the knot loose on his cravat. “Before this all happened, I’d been visiting with Tabitha and hearing how much she loathes Lord Hawthorne.” He met his cousin’s gaze. “I really feel the need to tell her about our switch so I can at least defend myself and explain why I had accused her of murder.”
“You can’t.” Frederick folded his arms and scowled. “If you say anything, she’s going to mention it to her aunt. Not only that, but her resentment toward you will have the others in town wondering why she hates the clergyman so much. If that happens, then others will become suspicious. It’s bad enough right now that someone in my parish is a thief and making it look like I’m the one taking these items.” He shook his head, frowning. “Right now I need to do all I can to make myself look good. I cannot have people blaming me for something I didn’t do. I cannot lose their trust. Not now. Not ever!”
Nic pulled off his shirt and wadded it into a ball. Fury raged inside him, but mainly because he couldn’t do what he knew was right in his heart. Yet, Frederick made sense. They didn’t need everyone in town being suspicious of Tabitha’s actions.
Growling, he tightened his hold on his crumpled shirt, wringing out more water in the wash basin. “Fine, I won’t sayanything to her. I’m not happy about it, but I will keep my mouth shut.”
“And look at it this way.” Frederick moved closer and took the bunched up shirt from Nic. “During this time, you—as the clergyman—can be doing everything possible to make her like Lord Hawthorne once again.”
“No, I don’t think that’s possible.” Nic walked away from his cousin and to the window, peering out onto the street, now busy with the townspeople going from one shop to another. “I cannot think of anything that I could do. She simply doesn’t like me, and discussing Lord Hawthorne only sets her on edge.”
“Perhaps you can just become her friend.”
Nic glanced over his shoulder at Frederick. “Friends?”
“Of course. Go on long walks with her and discuss anything—the weather, her life, her great aunt. Find out what she likes to do in her leisure time; what kind of flowers are her favorite, or what she likes to eat. In fact, invite her and Mrs. Burls over for dinner. Take Miss Tabitha some flowers or candy, whatever you can do to soften her heart. Gradually, she’ll start to trust you and even like you.”
“You are not thinking rationally.” Nic turned away from the window and leaned back against the wall. “If I’m seen taking her flowers or candy, then the townspeople will think Mr. Woodland is trying to court Miss Tabitha.”
Frederick laughed. “And what’s wrong with that?”
“You haven’t courted anyone since your wife died.”
“No, I haven’t, however that doesn’t mean I won’t eventually find a woman who interests me. It’s been six years, my parishioners expect that I’ll eventually emerge from grief enough to look for another wife.”
Nic grinned out of the corner of his mouth. “Very true. There’s always Miss Mildred Talbot. Perhaps I should startpaying her extra attention while I’m playing you.” He wagged his eyebrows.
Frederick scowled. “You willnotdo that with Miss Talbot, or anyone else for that matter! However, we aren’t discussing my life. We are talking about yours and whatyoushould do.”
“Actually, we are discussingyourlife, because I’m the one playing you! Oh, this is so confusing.” Waving his hands in a dismissive wave, Nic walked to the chair to collect his wet coat and shirt. “Nevertheless, I understand what you’re saying. Let me think on it today. I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do about Tabitha.”
“You’ll figure it out. I have confidence in you,” Frederick said as he moved back into the kitchen.
Nic hurried upstairs to his room. Once inside, he closed the door and sat on the edge of his bed, pulling off his damp boots, which was no easy task. After a few minutes, he had his boots and socks pulled off and searched for a towel. As he passed the full-length mirror, he took a quick glimpse. Then stopped dead in his tracks. Staring at himself, worry washed over him like a bucket of cold water, making him colder than he already was. The powder in his hair had come completely out! His true hair color was on display.
Blast it all! Had Tabitha seen him like this? If she did, he prayed that she didn’t suspect. Considering he didn’t pray often, he really hoped God was answering his prayer now.
*
Tabitha wasn’t anidiot, and if anyone called her one, she’d have plenty to say while stating her case.
The proof was quite plain—the man she’d spent the afternoon with and who rescued the child wasnotMr. Woodland, but Dominic Lawrence. Once the water had splashedall over him, the powder in his hair had been removed, revealing his true colors. She now knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the clergyman was indeed, Lord Hawthorne.
Whatever reason he had for playing the preacher, she didn’t know, but at this point, she’d let him believe he had fooled her. Until, of course, she discovered what was really going on.
Tabitha and Sally had a nice little visit with Mr. Jacobs and his daughter earlier this afternoon. He really was a nice man, and eager to please. Then again, she had heard that he was searching for a wife. Tabitha didn’t want to give him the impression that she would be open for an offer, but nonetheless, she did have a pleasant visit.
When she and Sally had arrived back at Aunt Clara’s, Mrs. Stiles had plenty for them to do. They headed back into town to do some shopping while Aunt Clara rested. Mrs. Stiles was such a busybody, chatting with everyone who walked by. She was also very forgetful, Tabitha noticed, because the older woman insisted on introducing Tabitha to everyone she’d met last evening at her aunt’s party. Thankfully, Tabitha didn’t have to say anything because the others mentioned to Mrs. Stiles that they had previously met Tabitha.
By now the news of Joanna’s rescue had spread through town. A lot of people were happy to hear that Mr. Woodland had saved the girl, and they oohed and ahhed over his heroics. Hearing how proud these people were of Nic grated on Tabitha’s nerves a little. Mainly, because it surprised her that he would think of someone other than himself. A niggle of doubt crept into her head, and she was almost ashamed for disliking him so much.
Another part of the rescue that had the town buzzing with curiosity was when Tabitha had assisted Mr. Jacobs home and stayed in his house for three hours. It didn’t matter to them thather maid was with her the whole time; these people couldn’t stop chatting about it.
Tabitha couldn’t believe how many people had something to say about the kind and lonely Mr. Jacobs and how he needed a good wife to help him raise his precious daughter. Although Tabitha agreed with them, she didn’t want to be considered a candidate for the position like everyone seemed to believe she was already.
Their journey into town lasted longer than Tabitha wanted, and by the time they returned home, she was exhausted. While Sally helped Mrs. Stiles prepare dinner in the kitchen, Tabitha wandered into the music room. The pianoforte beckoned her to sit and run her fingers along the keys.
