The Sweetest Love (Sons of Worthington Series) Read online

  “My mother’s health is declining. She often spoke of Lady Fairbourne and how she wished I would marry her. My brothers even acted like they would like me to settle down and raise a family. I’ve been a bumbling drunk since Trey and Judith found me two years ago, and I knew that wasn’t the kind of life I wanted. I had no energy to court a woman the proper way, so I gave in to my family’s wishes and proposed to Lady Fairbourne. I wasn’t looking for someone to love, just someone to be comfortable with. Jane was without a husband, and because she still showed interest in me, I asked her to be my wife. I thought it was time to put the past behind me once and for all.”

  “I’m surprised some other woman hasn’t sunk her greedy claws into you before now. You’re a handsome and charming man who could have made any woman fall in love with you.”

  Whether she knew it or not, she’d given him a compliment. For someone who loathed him, she certainly didn’t show it now. “You think I’m handsome? Charming?” Leaning toward her, he slipped his arm around her shoulders, gently pulling her forward. “You think I could get any woman to fall in love with me?”

  She stiffened and placed a hand on his chest. Strange, but he thought she should have tried harder to keep him away, instead, he was able to pull her closer. Originally, he did it to tease, but now… now with her so very near, he breathed in her lilac scent as her silky ringlet hair rubbed his hand. His teasing mood had vanished.

  “Tristan…please,” she whispered.

  It was all he could do not to kiss her, but he kept reminding himself this wasn’t right. Every time he’d been with her before, the voice of reason had never won. Passion had. “Please what?” Good grief, why had his voice dropped so low?

  “I—I didn’t mean it like that.” She gulped. “I didn’t say what I did for you to do...this.”

  Using his other hand, he swept his fingertips across her cheek, down her neck to rest on her shoulder. Her body remained stiff, although her breathing accelerated. She glanced at his mouth a few times, but switched her attention back to his stare. Panic laced her eyes, and he knew he definitely couldn’t kiss her now.

  “Forgive me, Diana.” He pulled away completely. The warmth of her body left him in shock, like cold water being thrown on him. He forced a grin. “Besides, I was just teasing. I’m flattered you think I’m still handsome and charming.”

  Slowly, he stood and tested his leg to make sure they would carry him as he walked. Thankfully, the feeling was back in them. He walked to the window and looked out on the wet land.

  “I said that because I wondered why you hadn’t married anyone,” she said softly.

  A grin pulled at the corners of his mouth and he glanced in her direction. “I haven’t married because you kidnapped me, remember?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m speaking about before that. Why haven’t you married someone before now?”

  “Because I had loved someone at one time, and had been hurt. Terribly hurt. I hadn’t recovered my memory from the accident, and I didn’t know why I was such a bitter man. Now I do.”

  She scowled. “What do you mean you didn’t know until now?”

  “Because parts of the past were blocked from my mind. Last night I had a breakthrough and I remembered what had happened…what had really happened between us.”

  “Tell me, Tristan,” she said rising from the sofa to walk toward him. Her forehead was creased with anger. “Because apparently your version of the truth and mine are completely different.”

  Chapter Nine

  Never had Diana felt more puzzled than right now. And yet an inner panic began to grow in her chest. What if all these years she’d been misinformed and had judged Tristan too harshly?

  Dryness had suddenly filled her mouth and she swallowed. No matter what was said, she was relieved to know the truth would finally come out. She’d waited three years for this.

  “Last night while in my very uncomfortable position, I had a dream.” He ran his fingers through his unkempt hair. “Actually, it wasn’t a dream at all, but my mind was being opened. The fog that had covered my memory had been lifted. I now know exactly what happened.”

  Women’s voices drifted to her ears from outside. Diana jumped from the sofa and ran to the window. Visitors? Why on earth would she have a visitor?

  She turned to Tristan and grasped his hand. “We have company. You must hide.”

  He nodded. “I agree. Where?”

  She pointed to the door. “Turn right and go down the hall. There’s a bedroom on your left. Go in there and shut the door.”

  Within moments, his expression softened. His blue eyes nearly melted her. “Don’t be long,” he whispered before quitting the room.

  Her heart hammered. What rotten luck! Just when he was going to tell her something she’d been waiting for so long to hear, her friend, Lady Dashwood would pay a visit.

  The front door swung open and Tabitha was chatting with Claudia as they entered the house.

  Taking a deep breath, Diana smoothed her hands down her dress, hoping she didn’t appear as rattled as she felt. She smiled at her long-time friend—the only person who had stood by her side in everything Diana had gone through. She moved to Claudia and gave her a hug.

  “What a wonderful surprise.” Diana pulled away and looked over her friend’s dress. “You are simply stunning today, as always, and you always seem to have a new gown on every time I see you.”

  Claudia laughed. “And you are always so full of compliments.” She lifted her chin and displayed a victorious grin. “As you probably can surmise, I’m quite enjoying being a widow and spending money my husband had never allowed me to touch while he was alive.”

  Diana nodded. “I understand you well, my friend. But tell me, why would you travel here when the roads are so muddy?”

  “Diana, I would travel across all of England to come see my dear friend and check up on her. I want to make certain you are all right.”

  “But of course I am.” Diana hooked her arm through her friend’s. “I was just about to have tea and biscuits. Would you like to go with me into the kitchen and get some? Tabitha is a wonderful cook, and I’m certain you would enjoy her biscuits.”

  “That is a fabulous suggestion. Lead the way.” Her brown eyes twinkled.

  As they entered the kitchen, Tabitha’s gaze darted around the room. “My lady...where is he?”

  Diana’s breath caught. Why in heaven’s name had Tabitha said that? Quickly, Diana looked back at Claudia for her reaction. Her friend flipped jeweled fingers in the air and shook her head.

  “Not to worry. Tabitha just told me about what she did to Lord Tristan, and I must say, what a brilliant idea Tabitha had.” She laughed. “I only wish I could have thought of it instead.”

  Ease washed over Diana and she nodded. “I wish I had thought of it, as well.” She met her maid’s stare. “Lord Tristan was tired so I sent him to the back room to sleep.”

  “You untied him?”

  “Yes. We can’t keep him tied up forever, you know.”

  But…what if he tries to escape?” Tabitha’s voice rose in a panic.

  “Then he escapes.” Diana shrugged. “The damage has already been done, and there isn’t much he can do to repair it.”

  “Quite right.” Claudia nodded, her black ringlets jiggling with the motion. “The whole town was abuzz this morning with talk of Lord Tristan skipping out on his wedding to meet up with his secret lover.” She giggled. “I knew right away that I must come see you to find out if you knew anything. I’m very happy that my instincts were correct.”

  Claudia led the way to the table then sat. Diana followed. Tabitha prepared their teacups and brought them to the table.

  “So I’m assuming everyone was in shock?” Diana asked.

  “But of course they were. They didn’t expect this kind of rash behavior from Lord Tristan.” She sipped her tea. “Now the youngest Worthington brother, Lord Trey…before he married if he would have done something like this, socie
ty wouldn’t have batted an eye.”

  “How right you are. But, what are they saying?” Diana asked, hesitantly. “Have they sent out search parties?”

  “Not yet. Of course, I have heard a few people mention that they wonder if Lord Tristan is having some kind of memory lapse. But if you ask me, I really don’t think that story is very believable, anyway.”

  Diana sipped her tea, watching her friend over the rim of her cup. Claudia was only a year older than her and married Lord Dashwood—a much older man—in her first season. Like Diana, Claudia had been beaten by her husband.

  “Why don’t you believe that story?” Tabitha asked.

  “Well, mainly because he’s been doing so well since he returned from the dead…so to speak. He doesn’t act at all like he has no memory.” Claudia lifted the cup to her mouth and took a quick drink. “But if you ask me, I think his memory-lost story is not true, and just an excuse his family used to cover up what really happened when he didn’t arrive the morning of the duel.”

  “Do you know what really happened?” Diana whispered. This subject had always been a hard one for Diana to discuss. She was still so very confused about everything that happened during that time. And to think, she’d find out…as soon as she could get her friend to leave.

  “That, my dear, is yet to be discovered.” Claudia nodded.

  “I heard he drinks himself into a stupor most nights,” Tabitha added her thoughts. “Most of the servants at Lord Elliot’s townhouse talked about the lordship’s cousin, Lord Tristan, as if they didn’t know anything else to talk about.”

  Diana rolled her eyes. “Well, those Worthington brothers certainly know how to stir up trouble and cause talk no matter what they seem to do.”

  “I agree.” Claudia lifted her teacup and took another sip. “Their poor mother dealt with enough scandal while her husband was alive. I’m surprised the poor dear can still breathe.”

  Frowning, Diana remembered what Tristan had said about his mother’s health issues. She touched Claudia’s arm. “How is the Dowager Duchess holding up now? Have you heard?”

  “I’m sorry to say, I haven’t heard. I’m quite certain she will live through this tragedy. If she can live through all the scandal her husband brought on the family from his liaisons, and with Trey’s rakish behavior, then to have Tristan disappear for two years, the dowager is indeed a very strong woman.”

  “So do you think the dowager is all right?” Diana asked softly.

  Claudia gave her a reassured smile. “I think she’ll recover splendidly.”

  “Thank goodness. I would be very upset if something bad happened to her because of my grudge.”

  “Not to worry, Diana.” Claudia patted Diana’s hand. “What you and Tabitha did with Lord Tristan was perfect.”

  As the conversation continued, Diana prayed her friend was right. And she also prayed that she could stay focused instead of remembering that Tristan was just in the other room, waiting to tell her the truth.

  * * * *

  Tristan stood next to the door with his ear pressed against the wall. He was able to hear bits and pieces of the conversation going on in the next room. Thankfully, the women decided to adjourn to the kitchen to chat, or he wouldn’t have heard anything.

  It made him happy to hear concern in Diana’s voice when she asked about his mother. His heart melted. Diana did care what happened to him and his mother. Even though she’d acted like she was set on revenge and didn’t have a heart, she really had one after all.

  When the ladies started discussing mundane things, he paced back and forth in the small room, eyeing the bed. He hadn’t slept very well, and the feather pillows and heavy quilts beckoned him to lie down. But he fought the temptation. He didn’t want to fall asleep, mainly because he was afraid Diana wouldn’t wake him, and he definitely needed to talk to her about what he’d remembered.

  But as the hours passed, his eyelids became heavy and he moved to the bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow, exhaustion took over and he couldn’t open his eyes even if he wanted to. He drifted to sleep with Diana on his mind once again.

  Jerking wide awake, Tristan’s heart beat in a frantic rhythm as if he’d been running from someone in fear. He groaned and scrubbed his hands across his face, then threaded his fingers through his hair. Where am I?

  Then he remembered. He ran to the window and pulled open the curtain. The predawn morning peeked on the horizon. He groaned. Diana hadn’t come to wake him up after all. Well, at least he was still here and he vowed he would not leave until they had their talk.

  He scratched his whiskery face. He needed a bath. His stomach grumbled. And food. But not quite in that order. Right now, he’d take whichever he could get first.

  As he sneaked out of the room, his mind turned to what he had remembered yesterday.

  Diana. The letter. The duel…and what followed.

  Could Hollingsworth had been correct when he said he’d paid off the baron’s debts and that Diana knew about it? Confusion filled Tristan, making his stomach churn faster. And had Hollingsworth taken Diana’s innocence that very night and gotten her pregnant? If that were the case, it was no wonder Tristan had held such feelings of betrayal for her without knowing why.

  But…Diana didn’t have a child. If she had been pregnant, what happened to the baby?

  No, that’s not what happened. Hollingsworth didn’t know how to tell the truth. So why had the man want to marry her so badly? And why had her father been so obliging to Hollingsworth?

  The more Tristan thought of it, the more he wondered if Hollingsworth really had paid the baron’s debts. That made more sense to why Diana’s father wouldn’t break the contract.

  That dirty-rotten cheat Hollingsworth had planned on Tristan coming to meet Diana at the glade the night before the duel. If the viscount would have met him the morning of the duel, many people would have been there and seen firsthand who the coward really was. And yet now Tristan knew why there had been rumors about him jumping over the cliff…and not even showing up for the duel that morning.

  Could that be the reason Diana had hated him so much and wanted revenge?

  Taking a deep breath, he detected a faint food odor. It smelled pleasant, whatever it was, reminding him how long it’d been since he ate. Perhaps he would eat before bathing.

  As he stepped into the corridor, he half expected Tabitha to rush toward him holding a pistol. It surprised him that he didn’t awaken with his arms and legs shackled to the bed. Either that or she just didn’t care if he escaped anymore.

  Taking the lamp from the corridor table, he moved through the small cottage. No women’s voices were heard this time. But if it were early in the morning as he suspected, then they would definitely still be in bed.

  As Tristan moved down the hall, he hadn’t realized until now how cozy the place looked. For some reason this style of home fit Diana perfectly. Although he couldn’t remember what the outside looked like—and probably wouldn’t have last night because it was dark when they had arrived—the interior wasn’t as newly decorated as his mother liked to keep her houses. Had Diana’s grandmother been wealthy? Wood décor was everywhere he looked, and such pleasing to behold. He would certainly not get bored studying each painting or furniture and admire the artists’ touch.

  Nothing looked worn or rundown. It just wasn’t the fashion his mother enjoyed having in her homes.

  Finally, he entered the kitchen. Slowly he walked through the room, admiring the shelves and cutting tables and the many stoves. In the corner sat a copper tub and his attention remained there. He hurried to the tub and pulled it out into the room a little more. Grinning, he couldn’t wait for a nice relaxing bath.

  The popping of wood jerked his focus to a large fireplace. Several large pots of water hung over the burning fire. Perhaps Diana or Tabitha was already up and preparing water for a bath. Even towels and soap had been laid out. Well, he’d show them that the early riser would be the one to claim the warm water
first.

  He tested the temperature of the water with his finger. Nearly what he wanted. Once he removed off his clothes. It didn’t take long to pour the water into the tub before climbing in. The warmth from the water crept over his skin and soothed his nerves slightly. Since regaining some of his memory from those horrid two years of wandering to find his identity, taking a daily bath was the one thing Tristan enjoyed more than anything.

  After he washed himself, he leaned back in tub to unwind. As he relaxed in the tub, he mentally planned out his morning. Once he filled his belly with food, he would take a tour through the house and acquaint himself with all the rooms. Hopefully by that time, Diana would be awake. They had so much to talk about.

  Sighing in contentment, Tristan knew he’d made the right decision to stay here. With such a peaceful atmosphere, he was certain to clear his mind enough to remember all those events that were still trapped behind memory’s door.

  Whether Tabitha or Diana realized it, they had actually saved him when they kidnapped him. Marrying Jane would have made him more miserable than he’d been already. Living a life of misery was not an enjoyable way to live. His parents could testify to that.

  He tilted his head back against the edge of the tub, and closed his eyes. From down the corridor, he detected soft footsteps. Finally, one of the ladies was awake. Tristan was quite certain they wouldn’t like seeing their guest using the bath first...especially if they had drugged him last night which he suspected had happened.

  The footsteps grew closer, and he struggled to open his eyes to greet whoever came his way, but it was too enjoyable to leave them closed. Finally, the headache he’d had since waking up disappeared, and he didn’t want to do anything to bring it back.

  Suddenly, a gasp ripped through the room, followed by a piercing scream from a woman. Tristan jerked upright, only to lose his balance and slip back in the tub, splashing water on the floor. By the time he adjusted himself, he noticed the woman.

  My Diana.

  He expected her to be in her nightgown and bare feet. Instead, she was fully dressed and even her beautiful hair had been wound in a coil as wisps of locks hung by her ears. Disappointment hung heavy in his chest. Although it would have been improper, Tristan rather wished she had been in a nightgown with her hair long and flowing. Instead, she stood across the room, her shoulders stiff as she presented her back to him. Always the proper Diana.