Page 35

From the hallway, Nic’s voice boomed through the air.

Delightful shivers cascaded over her and she found herself smiling broader.

She swallowed hard as butterflies danced in her stomach.

When Sally showed him into the room, Tabitha’s heart melted.

Just as handsome as always, his gaze locked immediately to hers and he smiled.

In his hand, he gripped the stems of several blue irises.

She hitched a breath. Had she ever told him that flower was her favorite?

“Oh, Mr. Woodland, you are here.” Aunt Clara stood and leaned heavily on her cane with one hand, while holding the other hand outstretched to Nic. “How glad I am to see you here, especially after this morning’s upset at the beach. And oh, look…you brought flowers.”

Nic walked to Aunt Clara and took her hand. “I know these flowers will never be as lovely as the women in this room, but I thought they came close.”

Mrs. Stiles giggled and Aunt Clara laughed. “Oh, Mr. Woodland. You are such a tease.” She gestured to Sally. “Would you please take these and place them in a vase?”

“As you wish.” Sally curtsied and then took the flowers from Nic before leaving the room.

When Nic took his focus off Aunt Clara and swept it around the room, it came to a startling halt on Mr. Jacobs. Nic’s eyes broadened and a faux smile touched his face.

“Ah, Mr. Jacobs. It’s good to see you again.”

“And it’s nice to see you too, Mr. Woodland. I heard you saved another person from drowning this morning. You have definitely been busy lately.”

Nic shook his head. “God had me in the right time at the right place.”

He moved to the other man who rose to his feet, and the two shook hands. Tabitha found it surprising that neither of them appeared to be very happy about seeing the other as they had proclaimed.

Once Nic released Mr. Jacob’s hand, he turned toward her. The irritation she’d detected in his gaze only moments ago had disappeared. His eyes twinkled in that familiar knee-weakening way.

“Good afternoon, Miss Paget. I see your lovely complexion is back and your blue eyes are looking more alert.” His gaze swept over her yet again. “And you appear much drier than the last time we spoke.”

Once more, his words melted her heart. “You are such a flatterer, Mr. Woodland.” She grinned, although she tried not to make it too big. “I am feeling better. I had worried you would be the one catching a chill.”

He shook his head. “I’m very well, thank you.”

“Well, now that we are all here,” Aunt Clara announced, “let’s adjourn to the veranda out back and partake of our luncheon.”

Mr. Woodland offered his arm to Aunt Clara, who beamed excitedly as she hooked her hand around his elbow. Mr. Jacobs quickly offered his arm to Tabitha, who accepted his escort. Mrs. Stiles and Sally strolled behind.

Although Tabitha could see her aunt talking to Nic, she couldn’t quite hear what they were saying. She just prayed he would stick to his promise and not make her aunt or Mrs. Stiles suspect anything was going on between her and the clergyman.

“Miss Paget,” Mr. Jacobs said softly.

She pulled her gaze away from the couple in front of her and focused on the man by her side. “Yes?”

“Mr. Woodland was right, you know. You are very lovely today.”

It wasn’t until now that she realized how brown his eyes really were—like melting pools of chocolate. She wasn’t na?ve to the way he was peering at her. Most assuredly, he was interested in her. She just wished his gaze would warm her as Nic’s could.

“I thank you, Mr. Jacobs. You’re very kind.” She smiled. Perhaps it didn’t matter if her body had a different reaction with Mr. Jacobs than with Nic. Mr. Jacobs was still a kind man—a man closer to her station in life, she reminded herself.

The tables were set up under the canopy, blocking the sun from their food.

Chairs were placed in a half circle around the veranda as well.

The weather was perfect for an outdoor luncheon.

No wind to disrupt their meal, and the temperature was warmer than it had been lately. Tabitha didn’t even need a shawl.

Tabitha filled her plate and found a chair.

Within seconds, Mr. Jacob sat beside her.

She glanced across the veranda at Nic, who was clearly watching her as he pretended to listen to the chattering Mrs. Stiles.

Tabitha wasn’t certain if she liked the disapproving look he gave her, but she definitely enjoyed the jealousy he displayed.

“Miss Paget,” Mr. Jacobs said. “Would you tell me a little about yourself? Where did you grow up?”

She tore her attention from Nic and focused back on Mr. Jacobs.

Smiling, she scrambled to think of something she could tell him.

Was she ready to admit to being a servant all her life?

Even though it was the truth, she worried about that dreaded question that would follow—about how she was able to overcome that status and be on her own without a husband to support her.

She wasn’t ready to tell him—or anyone—about that secret.

“Most of my life, I worked beside my mother as a maid for a wealthy woman. We lived in York.” She shrugged. “I fear I don’t have a very exciting life to tell you about.”

“Is your mother still alive?”

She shook her head. “She died several years ago.”

He sipped his punch. “I take it you don’t still work for the wealthy woman any longer.”

“No, I don’t. Within this past…uh, year, my life has changed drastically. No longer do I have to work as a servant, thanks to my relatives.”

Mr. Jacobs glanced at Aunt Clara who was just settling into her cushioned chair as Nic assisted. Tabitha wondered if Nic had heard because he kept throwing glances at her. But most assuredly, Mr. Jacobs would assume her aunt was the family she’d referred to.

“Well, whatever it was that brought you to North Devon, I’m most grateful. I don’t think I have met anyone as gracious and sweet as you.”

“Again, I thank you for your kind words, Mr. Jacobs.”

“I hope you decide to stay in North Devon. I’m sure by now you can see it’s a more relaxed place to live than York.”

Chuckling, she nodded. “Indeed, it’s very relaxed here.”

Mrs. Stiles walked to the chair next to Mr. Jacobs. Just before reaching it, she stumbled and her foot kicked against Mr. Jacob’s ankle. Groaning, he quickly pulled it away, but his hand shot out to steady the older woman.

“Oh, forgive me, Mr. Jacobs. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She glanced at his foot. “Are you all right?”

“Not to worry, Mrs. Stiles. I’m on the mend.”

“Mr. Jacobs,” Nic said in a rush. “I thought it was your knee that you had injured.”

Nodding, Mr. Jacobs turned to look at Nic. “It was my knee.”

“But Mrs. Stiles bumped into your foot and you grimaced. Have you by chance, injured your ankle as well?”

During the disturbing pause, Tabitha gritted her teeth.

What was Nic getting at now? His tone of voice was most accusing, too.

She glanced at Mr. Jacobs who appeared at a loss for words.

After a few awkward moments passed with nothing said, she held her breath.

Was Nic precise in accusing Mr. Jacobs of something?