Page 19

T abitha couldn’t recall the last time she’d laughed so hard.

But it was impossible to stop now. Nic was trying—almost too much—to be gallant and heroic so far this afternoon.

Although she questioned his motives, she kept the doubts to herself and allowed him to show her what he probably figured she’d wanted to see.

Knowing that it nearly killed him to sit on a broken chair with the end result being on his backside on a dirty floor, was most humorous.

When he’d slipped his hand into hers, she didn’t like the jolt of awareness that shot through her limbs.

Hopefully, Nic couldn’t feel it, or he would certainly act on her reaction.

Whether or not he’d felt it, the spark in his eyes had changed.

No longer were they laughing eyes, but the gray color had lightened and it appeared as if desire coated his gaze now.

Drat! She knew it! He couldn’t even be with a woman without trying to turn it sensual. Just when she was feeling hopeful that Nic had actually changed since the last time she saw him in Mayfair, he went and proved her wrong.

Within a blink of an eye, the shade of his eyes changed and no longer appeared that desire was roaring through him. In fact, he looked light hearted and almost playful.

Before she knew it, his hand gripped hers tighter. Even his smile was different…almost mischievous.

“I’m delighted to have entertained you, Tabitha. But I have never enjoyed being the center of attention for very long.”

In one quick jerk, he pulled her arm. She lost balance and fell on him.

A surprised gasp released from between her lips once her body touched his.

Before she had time to process the very improper position they were in, he made another quick move and wrapped his arms around her waist before rolling her onto her back with him looming over her.

“I figured it just wouldn’t be fair for me to enjoy the dirty floor by myself.” He shrugged as he rose to his knees and pulled her to a sitting position.

It took her a few moments to realize he was back to teasing again, so she hesitated in scolding him for trying to charm her. Yet, in a way, his playfulness was rather charming in itself.

She smiled, but not fully. “Unfortunately, we don’t have a table for our lunch now.” She grabbed the basket and pulled it toward them. “So I suppose we’ll just have to use our laps as plates.” Confusion creased his features, so she continued, “Allow me to demonstrate.”

Tabitha opened the basket and proceeded to take out the food, placing it on her lap.

Immediately, she detected a strange odor coming from within the wicker basket.

Since she wasn’t too certain where the smell was coming from, she decided not to say anything.

It wasn’t until she removed the wrapped-up meat that she knew.

Silently, she groaned. The meat was spoiled.

If they ate this, they would be sick. Whoever cooked for Nic and his cousin, needed to be relieved, and very soon, or the cook would have both men violently ill.

“I understand now,” Nic said as he reached into the basket and pulled out the bowl of strawberries and loaf of bread, setting it on his lap. “Tabitha, I must say how nice our visit has been thus far. Thank you for being so polite and kind when I know you would rather not.”

She arched an eyebrow. Funny, he should mention it, because she had literally forgotten. “It’s only because you have shown me a different person so far this afternoon. Once you bring back the Lord Hawthorne I remember, then I’ll return to the Tabitha you remember.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Then I pray that man doesn’t come back.”

“I pray, as well.” She picked up a slice of cheese and sniffed it before she dared to put it in her mouth. From what she could tell, the cheese was edible. “So tell me, why are you pretending to be your cousin, the clergyman?”

Nic took the loaf of bread and broke it in half, giving her one half.

Then he handed her some strawberries. “Several months ago while I was still in Mayfair, I received a letter from my cousin. Frederick was worried about some recent items that had been stolen from the church. At first he thought he’d just misplaced them, but a few weeks later, he realized they were indeed, stolen.

” He lifted the bread and bit off a piece.

Pausing, he chewed until it was swallowed before continuing.

“A few people in his parish had discovered some of these missing items. The gossip circulating was putting the blame on Frederick. Worried that the thieves would never get caught, and eager for my help, my cousin invited me to come visit. He had a plan.”

He paused again, popping a small strawberry in his mouth.

Immediately, his mouth puckered and a distasteful expression came on his face.

Tabitha glanced down at her strawberries.

Their color didn’t look very red and she doubted they were even ripe enough to pick, let alone eat.

By the look on Nic’s face, she had her answer.

She couldn’t eat the meat, and now the strawberries were too bitter.

That left the bread and cheese. When she lifted the bread to her mouth, she detected another odor.

Immediately, she could see why. A blue fuzzy spot had formed on the edge of the bread.

Tabitha really needed to say something to Nic who appeared not to notice anything was wrong with the food. Indeed, his cook needed to be dismissed!

“When I arrived in this township,” Nic began after a few awkward seconds, “Frederick told me of his plan. We look enough alike that we could switch roles—which we’d done many times as young boys.

Anyhow, with me playing the clergyman, this gives Frederick the space to sneak around at night and spy on people in hopes of discovering who the thief is and catching him in the act.

” He shrugged. “That’s why I look like my cousin.

Everyone seems to believe I’m the clergyman, so I must be excellent at acting the part. ”

“I see.”

“So please, don’t say anything to your aunt or Mrs. Stiles. Nobody can know my true identity.”

She nodded. “I won’t say anything. Thankfully, you have the good fortune that nobody knows Lord Hawthorne as I do.”

“Actually, Tabitha,” he reached his hand and placed it on her arm, “you don’t know me as well as you think.”

“I beg to differ. I know a rogue when I meet one.”

“The man you met in Mayfair was only after one thing from you, and it certainly wasn’t what you had thought. I was desperately trying to help my friend. As you recall, he was accused of murder, and we all knew he didn’t do it.”

Anger rose inside of her, making her head throb. Working for Lord Elliot had been a nightmare, but this part of her life when Hawthorne had accused her of murder was a different kind of heartbreak. “And that gives you the right to accuse anyone just to ease your mind?”

He frowned. “Tabitha, it wasn’t like that—”

“It was exactly like that, and you know it.” Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand on her chest, hoping to calm herself before she said things she didn’t really mean.

“But we have gotten off the subject. If you remember correctly, the only thing we were going to discuss today was why you and your cousin switched places. And now that you have told me,” she pushed the food off her lap and back into the basket, “it’s time for me to leave. ”

“Tabitha, no.” He grasped her wrist. His gaze begged for her to stay. “Please don’t go. Not like this.”

“Not like this?” She arched an eyebrow. “Pray tell, how do you want me to leave?”

“Not angry.”

She tried to calm the rage building inside of her, but the more she stared into his face, the more upset she became.

Not often did she loathe someone so much that she couldn’t forgive him, but for some reason, Dominic Lawrence was a man who made her edgy.

He always had, and she feared he always would.

“Fine.” She took another deep breath. “Then I’m not angry, but I do know our conversation is over and I must leave.”

She yanked her hand out of his grasp and stood. He, too, had scrambled to rise. The food on his lap spilled to the floor unnoticed by the man.

“Please, Tabitha. We really need to discuss what had happened between us in Mayfair. I haven’t been the same since.”

For the nerve of him! She wanted to scream, to slap his face, and maybe even kick him in the knee.

He hadn’t been the same? Yet, she was the one who had almost turned herself in to the magistrate for a murder she hadn’t committed…

just to save her friend, Lady Diana. Tabitha had been the one partially seduced by the rouge, Lord Hawthorne, and then had her heart trampled upon during a weak moment when she gave into passion—only to have him accuse her of killing not one, but two lords of the realm!

Was it any wonder why she couldn’t trust men?

Closing her eyes, she rubbed the pain knocking against her forehead.

For the past several months she’d tried to forget all that had happened.

She tried to be a different person, tried to be the lady her half-brothers treated her as.

Unfortunately, she could never feel at peace.

Something was always there reminding her of everything, and building a wall around her heart.

She blinked her eyes open and looked at him. He still wore that pathetic expression, begging her to talk. “I’m sorry, my lord, but I’m not ready to discuss what happened.”

Tabitha moved past him and to the front room to collect her cloak and bonnet. He hurried after her, stopping by her side as she placed the bonnet on her head.

“Please, Tabitha, don’t go. Stay just a little longer. If you’re not ready to discuss what happened, then we won’t. I’m confident we’ll find other things to talk about. Besides,” he pointed toward the kitchen, “we still have all that food. I’d hate to see my efforts wasted.”