The Sweetest Love (Sons of Worthington Series) (19 page)

“My lady,” Mrs. Jennings said sternly, “I was not told you would be returning this soon.”

Diana arched an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”

“Well, not entirely. But yesterday you had visitors. Mr. Phillips told them we didn’t know when you would return.”

Diana shrugged. “I suppose if it were important to see me, they will return. Did they leave any kind of message with the butler?”

“No, Mr. Phillips did not have a message.”

“Who was it that came?” Diana wondered.

The cook narrowed her gaze and lifted a haughty chin. “Mr. Phillips said that the magistrate and some of his men were the ones inquiring after you, my lady. The magistrate has some questions to ask you about Lord Elliot’s death.”

Diana’s heart dropped as fear ran rapid through her blood. The hint of brightness in her future quickly faded.

Chapter Twelve

Heavy clouds filled the night sky, making the evening appear darker than normal as Tristan walked to the men’s club where he and his brother, Trey, visited frequently. Although Trey would probably not be here, he enjoyed more spending time at home with his wife. Their good friend, Dominic, Marquis of Hawthorne, would probably be playing some card game…and winning. Tristan almost hoped to see his brother, Trey tonight. It would be easier to explain what was going on if both Trey and
Nic
were in the same room.

He hurried inside and gave his overcoat and top hat to the footman. Tristan strolled into the main room in search of his brother. Most of the tables were surrounded by men drinking and visiting. At first nobody looked at him, which suited Tristan just fine. Finally, one gent sitting at the closest table met Tristan’s eyes. The man gasped and nearly spilled his drink as it fell from his fingers.

“Lord Tristan.”

The trickle effect was rather astonishing. Once Tristan’s name was spoken, gasps exploded around the room—his name on most everyone’s tongue. Soon whispers overrode the gasps until the room buzzed with
Lord Tristan.
Surprised faces stared dumbstruck at him as if he’d risen from the grave. This expression was very familiar to Tristan since many had looked that way when he returned from the dead not too long ago.

He inclined his head briefly, but didn’t say anything. As another footman walked by carrying empty wine glasses, Tristan said, “Excuse me, but can you tell me if Lord Trey and Lord Hawthorne are here?”

“Yes, my lord. They are in the blue room.”

“I thank you.” Relieved to hear his brother was here as well as their mutual friend, Tristan flipped a gold coin to the man before hurrying in that direction.

When he entered the parlor, his younger brother and Dominic were in conversation with two other gentlemen. Each man held a glass of wine. Tristan found it odd that they all wore the same, sour expressions.

When Tristan stepped further into the room, the floor boards groaned beneath his feet. Trey was the first one to snap his attention in Tristan’s direction. His brother gasped, then sprang from his chair. The piece of furniture tipped over behind him and fell to the floor in a loud crash.

This sparked the other men into spinning around to look at Tristan. Their jaws dropped as shock registered on their wide-eyed expressions.

“Tristan!”
Trey wrapped Tristan in a hug. When Trey pulled away, he glared through hooded eyes. “Where in the blazes have you been these past few days?”

Forcing himself to chuckle, Tristan walked to the table. It touched him to know his brother cared so much. Dominic jumped to his feet and shook Tristan’s hand heartily.

“Thank the Lord you are back safe, my good man. Please tell us what happened. There was so much gossip we didn’t know what to believe.”

“Forgive me for worrying you all.” Tristan glanced at the other two men and nodded. “Lord Gilbert. Lord Caldwell.”

The men stood and shook Tristan’s hand.

“I see you are not playing cards.” Tristan motioned to the table. “It’s not often I see Trey and Hawthorne in the same room without cards in their hands and a stack of bills in front of them.”

“Tristan,” Trey said with irritation in his voice. “Quit skirting around the question. Where were you?”

“We heard you had been kidnapped,” Caldwell said.

“Indeed I was, Caldwell.” Tristan sat then the other men followed as they gathered around the table. He studied Gilbert and Caldwell. The older men were friends of Hawthorne’s family and had been kind to Tristan’s mother. At times he wondered if these men were interested in her, yet they never let their feelings show. Tristan really didn’t know if he trusted them enough to tell them what truly happened.

Clearing his throat, he drummed his fingers on the table. “I was kidnapped by a woman who thought to exact revenge when I had nearly ruined her reputation a few years back.”

All eyes widened in disbelief. Seconds later, Dominic snorted a laugh and Trey shook his head.

“You must be joking,” Trey muttered.

“I’m gravely serious, dear brother.”

“How did you escape?” Hawthorne asked with a smirk on his mouth.

Tristan wagged his brows. “I charmed my way out if you must know.”

He waited for their reaction, but it didn’t happen as quickly as he figured it should. But within moments, they all barked with laughter. Grinning, Tristan relaxed in his chair.

“Who is the lady?” Gilbert asked.

Tristan held up his hand and shook his head. “I have already ruined her reputation enough. I shan’t do any more damage.”

Caldwell arched a thick, white eyebrow. “I see you escaped unscathed.”

“Indeed, I did.”

Trey released a heavy sigh. Sitting back in his chair, he linked his fingers together and rested them on his mid-section. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I fear you have returned home at the most unfortunate time.”

Studying his younger brother, Tristan tapped his finger on the table. The sour look was back upon Trey’s face—just as it had been when Tristan first walked into the room. “Why do you say that?”

“Because there has been another death—our cousin, Elliot.
His life ended pretty much the way Hollingsworth had.”

Tristan gave his brother a blank stare. “And pray tell, what does this have to do with me?”

“Have you forgotten? You are still one of the magistrate’s suspects for Hollingsworth’s murder.”

“So.”
Tristan shrugged.

Dominic leaned toward Tristan and shook his head. “The suspicion has grown now that Lord Elliot has been killed. Several witnesses reported to the magistrate that they saw you and Elliot arguing a couple of nights before he was murdered.”

Shaking his head, Tristan scratched his head. “But you were there, Hawthorne. You had to take me home from the card game because I was foxed. You know the argument didn’t mean anything.”

Dominic nodded. “And I have already told the magistrate this, but because you disappeared the night before your wedding and nobody knew where you were, you are still a suspect.”

“Lord Tristan,” Lord Gilbert spoke. “My cousin is one of the men working with the magistrate on this case. He informed me that your name is high on the suspects list. Unlike Hollingsworth, Lord Elliot didn’t have that many enemies, but because you are linked to both men, the magistrate is going to start searching for more clues. Since your so-called kidnapping happened a day before the killing, that makes the magistrate more suspicious.”

“What?” Tristan jumped out of his chair, standing above the other men. “My
so-called
kidnapping, you say? Indeed I
was
kidnapped. I didn’t plan that…and I certainly didn’t have any reason to kill Lord Elliot.”

Lord Gilbert nodded. “I believe you about the kidnapping, but the magistrate will want to know who you have been with these past few days.”

“I was with the lady who kidnapped me.”

“Are you willing to give them her name?” Gilbert tilted his head, his eyes narrowing with distress.

Tristan scowled. “Of course I won’t give them her name. As I’d mentioned before, I shan’t cause scandal to her again.”

Trey grasped Tristan’s arm and glared into his eyes. “By not giving them the information they seek, that might be the very reason you’d get arrested.”

Confusion swam in Tristan’s mind. He understood the dilemma, but… No, he couldn’t ruin Diana any more than he had already. “Then that’s a chance I’ll have to take.”

“You are willing to be arrested for a crime you did not commit?” Trey’s voice lifted in irritation.

Tristan nodded. “If that’s what it takes, yes. I can only pray the magistrate will seek to find proof before they have a trial, because I can assure you, they will not find any.”

Gilbert scrubbed his jaw. “I wished the higher courts believed in such a thing.”

Across the table, Dominic released a ragged sigh and ran his fingers through his hair.

Trey groaned, rubbing his forehead and met Tristan’s stare. “Then we need to have our older brother, Trevor, hire that well-known solicitor after all because I fear you will need him soon.”

Dread squeezed Tristan’s heart. Sadly, he knew his brother was correct this time.

* * * *

The next day, Diana sat as still as she could on her cushioned chair and waited for the butler to bring in her unwelcome guests—the magistrate and one of his men. Not more than five minutes ago, she had watched from the window as their coach rolled to a stop in the front of the house. Fear leapt to her throat and stung her eyes. She couldn’t tell them the truth about the night Lord Elliot had been killed. Good heavens, they would think she had done the deed for certain.

Although she maintained a calm outward appearance, her heartbeat flipped with anxiety, and her palms were moist. Inhaling deeply, she realized her breathing had been altered, as well. Would they notice she was trying to hide something?

Slowly, she slid her palms on her dress to dry the wetness gathered, as she listened for their footsteps to sound on the floor in the corridor. The longer she waited, her stomach churned, and she wanted to scream with frustration.

Why would they suspect her murdering Lord Elliot? True, she had been there that night she’d rescued Sally, but the girl had met her out by the servant’s door. Diana hadn’t even gone inside the manor, and she especially had not been spotted by any of the nobleman’s other servants since they were supposed to have been all in bed asleep. Not that Diana checked on every one, but she knew her servants—or Ludlow’s—would have been asleep at that time during the night.

Finally, the sound she’d been waiting for came when several footsteps clamored on the floor. Taking another deep breath, she turned her eyes toward the doorway just as her butler showed them in.

The magistrate looked as if he were attending a social gathering, wearing a top hat, and his black coat stretched across his portly belly, and his black breeches looked just as snug. The man along with him wore a uniform—black jacket with golden buttons up the front and on the cuffs—and a black top hat and matching shiny boots. They entered the sitting room and then simultaneously removed their hats and bowed to her.

She nodded then motioned to the sofas. “Gentlemen, would you care to sit?”

“I thank you, Lady Hollingsworth,” Sir Felix said and moved to the piece of furniture as the other followed. “I hope you forgive our intrusion, but we have some questions to ask you about Lord Elliot’s murder.”

“There is nothing to forgive. I will answer any question you have for me.”

The other man gave her a smile, although Diana could see it was forced. Still, she regarded them with as much kindness and politeness as she could muster.

“How well did you know Lord Elliot Henson?” the magistrate asked.

She shrugged and folded her hands in her lap, hoping to stop the quakes threatening to become noticeable in her limbs. “Actually, I don’t know him well at all.”

“I believe he was acquainted with your late husband,” the other man said.

“He very well could have been,” she answered. “My husband had many friends, but that doesn’t mean I associated with them.”

“So are you saying you have never spoken to Lord Elliot?” the magistrate probed.

Diana shook her head. “I didn’t say that. You asked me how well I knew him, and I told you I didn’t know him well.” Perhaps she shouldn’t have said it like that, but the two men irritated her more as the seconds passed.

Sir Felix scowled. “Pardon me then, my lady. Let me rephrase my question.” He swallowed hard. “Have you ever talked to Lord Elliot?”

“A few times, yes.”

The two men traded glances before the man with the thinning black hair straightened and looked at her. “Did you discuss anything personal?”

“Tell me sir, how could I discuss anything personal with a man I didn’t even know well?”

“Lady Hollingsworth.” The second man’s voice nearly growled with malice. “One of his servants overheard you threatening Lord Elliot approximately two weeks ago.”

Diana’s blood turned cold as fear sliced through her. She couldn’t believe someone had heard that conversation. “Tell me sir, did this servant tell you that I threatened his life? I can assure you I did not.”