Using the anger flowing through her, Tabitha put all of her emotions into the game. One by one, she knocked all the other balls aside, which put her in the lead. Not once did anyone inquire as to what was wrong with her, which suited her just fine right now. She would definitely become too vocal if anyone asked.
Nic, however, noticed. Although she didn’t want to look at him very much—for fear she’d give away her annoyance for him at this time—she still could see how he gloated on his recent victory. She didn’t have to ask him if this had been his plan all along. The triumphant smile on his face said it all. He even chatted more playfully with Aunt Clara and Mrs. Stiles, proving his jovial spirit. Once in a while, his gaze connected with Tabitha and his impish grin softened. The look in his eyes became more affectionate…which made her even angrier.
She spun around and put her focus on Aunt Clara who was in the process of throwing her ball. The older woman didn’t have a lot of strength, but she tried her best. After throwing the ball, Aunt Clara stumbled.
Tabitha rushed to her side and grasped her elbow. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, dear. Although this is my favorite game, I just don’t have the strength that I used to have.” Clara frowned and shook her head. “But I’m enjoying myself nonetheless.”
“Mrs. Burls,” Nic said as he stopped beside Tabitha, “you appear exhausted. Would you like me to take you back to the veranda?”
“Heavens no, Mr. Woodland. I would rather you stay right here by Tabitha and play. I can see myself to the veranda just fine.” She straightened and smiled. “And I give you permission to visit with my grandniece for a little while, as well.”
Aunt Clara turned and made her way back toward the house. Tabitha wondered if her intrusive aunt had planned this, too. This afternoon was full of plans; Tabitha trying to become interested in the blacksmith, Nic trying to get Mr. Jacobs more aware of Sally, and of course, her wonderful aunt and the companion who just didn’t know when to stop trying to find Tabitha a husband. Hers was the only plan that hadn’t worked out well.
She glanced at the others. Mrs. Stiles now stood by Mr. Jacobs and Sally roughly ten steps away. Tabitha knew if she and Nic talked in low voices, nobody would hear them.
She switched her gaze back to Nic, who as always, wore a self-assured grin…the kind she wanted to slap off his face right now. “Mr. Woodland,” she snipped. “I would appreciate it if you would stop sticking your nose into other people’s lives.”
Confusion replaced his self-assured look as he slowly shook his head. “I fear, Miss Tabitha, that I don’t quite understand your meaning.”
“Nic,” she growled quieter. “I think you most certainly do understand what I’m saying.” She threw a quick glance at Mr. Jacobs and Sally. “I believe that you are trying to keep me from getting to know other men.”
Chuckling, he shook his head and turned to toss his ball at the other balls on the grass. “My dear, sweet woman. If you can’t see how your maid looks upon that blacksmith with adoring eyes, then I’m afraid you’re a lost cause. However, I can see that Mr. Jacobs is just as interested in your friend.”
Tabitha tried hard not to stomp her foot—or clobber the man beside her. She prayed that she could keep her wits about her and not lash out her frustration on the man who’d ruined her afternoon. It would be hard, though, and she feared by the end of this luncheon, one of them would be sporting a bruise.
Chapter Twenty
Tabitha took adeep breath and prayed for more patience, but it seemed God had other things to do and couldn’t help her. “I can see very clearly that my maid and Mr. Jacobs are enamored with each other, which I think is just wonderful. But what I don’t understand is why you thought it necessary to intrude in my life and decide what man I can or cannot get to know better. Is it so terrible to believe that I might want to get to know a man and perhaps have him court me?”
A serious expression came over Nic and his smile disappeared. Confusion and hurt coated his eyes, making the color darker. “Obviously, I don’t understand what you are thinking, my lovely. Why would you want a blacksmith when you can have me?” He moved closer. “Tabitha, why can’t you see that you already have me? You need not look for another man at all. The last we had spoken on this subject, you were very much aware of my feelings for you. In fact, you had given me the impression that you returned them…quite eagerly, if I remember correctly.”
Her heart sank, and her chest tightened. It had become hard to breathe. This time it had nothing to do with Nic’s nearness. It was the catch in his voice that let her know she’d just hurt him.
Now was not the time to explain in full detail why she couldn’t love him—why it was impossible for him to love her. But she must say something.
“Tabitha?” he asked again when she hadn’t spoken for a few minutes. “Please tell me.”
She heaved a heavy and difficult sigh. “Oh, Nic. It’s true that I led you to believe I had wanted to be with you, but since then I have done a lot of thinking.” She took a quick glance over her shoulder to see if the others were coming. Thankfully, they still stood in the same spot, chatting away. She walked closer to the ball she’d just thrown. “I have come to realize that there is no way we can ever be together.”
Nic kept in step beside her. “I’m not going to play the clergyman role forever, you know. You and I can—and will—be together soon.”
“No, Nic.” She faced him and stared deep into his eyes. “A marquess and a servant woman can never be together. Not the right way.”
“But, for some reason which you haven’t quite explained, you’re not a servant any longer.”
“That doesn’t matter. Because I’ve been a servant all my life, my status is different than yours. We come from two different worlds—worlds that will never allow a servant to love a marquess. The decision is out of our hands. As much as it pains me to say this, I know I must look for another man. I must find one more to my class, just as you should find a woman closer to yours.”
The voices from the others grew louder, and Tabitha blinked back the tears that were going to make their debut very soon. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Mr. Jacobs walking toward her—without Sally. Taking a deep breath to refresh her emotions, she turned just in time as he stopped beside her.
“I see you are doing very well in this game.”
She forced herself to smile. “But of course. I have played this sport many times, and just like my aunt, this is one of my favorites.”
She peeked over her shoulder at Nic. He wasn’t smiling as he’d been doing since arriving for the luncheon. Pain was evident on his face, especially in his deep frown. It hurt to know she was the cause. But really, there wasn’t anything she could do to change it. She was who she was, and he would always be a marquess. Neither of them could change their stations in life.
Sally came closer and Tabitha turned her attention toward her friend. The maid’s smile was much brighter than Tabitha had seen before. Another pain sliced through her heart. How could she have been so jealous of her friend when Sally deserved happiness just as much as the next woman?
