Nic rolled his eyes. “Of course she can.”
“But you had mistakenly accused her of murder, so she must have had some qualities to make you suspicious.”
“Please, Frederick, don’t bring that up again. What happened in the past was my blunder entirely. Tabitha is an honest person and will not say or do anything to foil our plans, I assure you.”
Frederick stared at Nic for the longest time, and he wondered what questions were passing through his cousin’s head. Nic couldn’t allow Frederick to question Tabitha. She was a trustworthy person, and he wished he’d realized this when they had first met. It would have saved him a lot of heartache.
Finally, Frederick nodded. “Fine, but if anything happens with her, I’m blaming you.”
“I’ll gladly take the blame, but nothing will go wrong.” Nic ended the conversation with a nod, and then proceeded to walk out of the room and into the kitchen.
He stopped in the middle of the floor and glanced around at the cupboards. Almost two months ago, Frederick had sent his cook on holiday so that nobody would know about Nic and Frederick’s switch. They still had a laundry maid do their washing once a week, but she never came into the house because Frederick took the clothes to her.
Because they’d been without servants, Frederick and Nic had struggled to learn how to cook by themselves. Thankfully, their friendly neighbors had invited them to dinner quite a bit.
Now Nic was determined to make lunch for him and Tabitha. He really wasn’t very good at it, but it wasn’t for a lack of trying. However, he figured he could put some meats, cheeses, bread, and fruit together. In the process, he hoped to impress her with his knowledge. Certainly she would be surprised to know he didn’t need a servant for everything.
He stood in the kitchen, staring at the ice box. The bread, meat, and cheese were easy to find, but where would he get the fruit? If he remembered correctly, strawberries would be coming in season soon, if they weren’t already. Frederick had a nice garden area that the neighbors helped keep growing for him, so Nic was certain there would be strawberries out back.
He hurried around the kitchen to collect the things he needed, and then stacked them in a basket. He was certain theabandoned cottage still had a table and chairs, so he wasn’t worried about bringing a blanket for them to sit on.
Satisfied with what he’d accomplished so far—and by himself, no less—he grabbed a bowl and went outside in back to find some strawberries. A light wind blew from the east, making the temperature cooler than expected. He glanced up in the sky. Dark clouds formed slowly. Nic groaned. Soon, a storm would be coming. With any luck, it would arrive later in the day.
He found the strawberry plants, picked a bunch, and placed them in the bowl. Once he had enough, he rushed back inside to wash them and pat them dry. Then he placed them in the basket with the rest of the food.
A sense of achievement burst in his chest, and he smiled. This was his first time preparing a meal by himself, and he had to admit it wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be. Still, he couldn’t help but appreciate the servants.
Time crept by as he waited for the noon hour to approach. He tried to read a book from Frederick’s library, but after checking the clock every ten minutes, Nic realized he wasn’t reading at all, only skimming over the words, so he closed the book.
The more he checked out the window to see how the weather was progressing, the quicker the storm clouds formed, and the wind had picked up. It still didn’t look as if it would rain on him, so everything was going forward as planned.
Nic dressed in his own clothes for this meeting with Tabitha. He not only wanted to look like himself, but he wanted tofeellike Dominic Lawrence, the Marquess of Hawthorne. The weather would keep most people inside, and if he wore his raincoat and top hat, he was certain nobody would know it was him and not Frederick.
Ten minutes before the noon hour, he slipped on his raincoat and hat, grabbed the basket and stepped outside. A drizzle of rain fell on him, and he groaned. His first reaction was tobecome upset, but then he realized this would be perfect for his afternoon enjoyment. The light moisture would keep curious townsfolk from venturing outside and it would keep his lovely Tabitha inside the abandoned cottage, exactly where he wanted her to be. It would be difficult to convince her of his sincerity, to be sure, but the longer he could get her to stay in their secluded hideaway, the more he could work his charms on her.
At first he tried to act as if carrying a basket was a normal routine for him, and he casually made his way up the street toward the opposite side of town, but after a few minutes, the rain fell faster and he wished he’d brought along his umbrella. Soon, he was quickening his pace and hustling up the side street that was on an incline. The road became slick with water and his boots slipped a few times. He contemplated walking in the grass, but he realized that would only make his boots wetter and more slippery.
A disturbing thought struck him just as he neared the abandoned cottage…what if the rain kept Tabitha from venturing out, as well? It was possible. After all, what excuse could she give her aunt and Mrs. Stiles for taking a stroll on a rainy day?
As he reached the door, his hopes sank. She wouldn’t be here. No woman, no matter how enamored she was with him, would go out in this weather to meet him in private. And because Tabitha wasnotsmitten with him, she wouldn’t be here.
He stopped on the porch and glanced down the hillside. Not one person was out and about. Apparently, he was the only fool outside at this time. Well, he’d go inside the cottage and wait out the storm, then return home. It would probably be best to eat the food he’d prepared in the basket. It would give him something to do while he waited for the perfect time to leave.
He jiggled the door handle, but it was locked. Frowning, he studied the door and the places around the porch, hoping therewould be a key somewhere close by. But after a few minutes of not finding one, he shrugged. He’d try the back door and if that was locked, he’d trudge back through the rain and return home.
As he turned to step off the porch, the door handle rattled, followed by a squeak. Panicked of someone actually still living there, he whipped his head toward the opening door and held his breath. At first he didn’t see anyone, but seconds later, a woman’s head—still wearing a white bonnet—peeked through the shadows. Big, curious blue eyes met his gaze. Recognition must have struck her because she expelled a relieved sigh.
“Oh, it’s you,” Tabitha exclaimed. “I wondered if someone was trying to break in.”
The sight of her calmed his nerves, and he grinned. “Break in? Like we are doing?”
“Yes, exactly.” She opened the door wider for him to enter.
“How did you get in?” He walked in and she closed the door behind him.
“The back door was unlocked.”
“I was about to go around when you opened the door for me.” He placed the basket on the floor, and then shrugged out of his raincoat. That was when he noticed the bare room. Not a stitch of furniture. Even the grate from the fireplace had been removed. He glanced at Tabitha who was removing her bonnet. She still wore her gray rain-cloak. “How long have you been here?”
