Page 32 of Her Scandalous Rake (The Worthington Legacy #8)

T ristan rode his horse hard and fast toward Lady Dashwood’s estate. The closer he came, the more his head filled with clouds and he became lightheaded. He shook his head and blinked, trying to focus better. This didn’t make sense. He’d only had a few sips of his drink, so why was he acting in such a way?

He finally reached the stable, and dismounted. Hurrying toward the structure, the walls seemed to dance in front of him and the ground slanted as if he were walking on a ship.

Tristan stopped and squeezed his eyes closed. What the devil was happening to him? Cotton felt like it was growing in his mouth, but along with it came the stale, bitter taste of the liquor he’d consumed earlier with Gibbs. In all the years Tristan had been drinking, never had he had such a reaction.

What were the odds the rum was laced with some kind of drug that made him feel as if he was floating right out of his body?

Groaning, he fought against his mind trying to come alert—to snap out of this haze he’d been put under. Why had he taken the vile drink in the first place? Now he cursed the spiked rum for making his head swim and his stomach twist. He vowed never to touch liquor again.

He took in a deep breath and moved into the stable. Gradually, his limbs weakened. Finding the strength, he lifted his hands and scrubbed his face, trying to get the blood flowing through him enough to bring him alert. His muscles began to ache and his body felt stiff. Indeed, someone had put some kind of drug in his drink!

He opened his eyes and tried to focus. Darkness surrounded him at first, and then a small amount of light came from the far end of the stables. Slowly he turned his head, but the movement was still too fast and his stomach lurched in protest. Closing his eyes, he gritted his teeth to keep the contents of his stomach down where it belonged.

In the silence of the room, a horse snorted and shuffled his feet. Once again, Tristan blinked open his eyes and this time things appeared slightly clearer than before, but not much.

Tristan took his time moving toward the light, only because the blasted barn wouldn’t quit spinning around him. Right here and now he made another vow—never to touch the vile drink again!

Mentally, he shook his head, remembering he’d already made that vow a few seconds ago. The vile drink be deuced! He would swear off liquor forever.

He inhaled deeply, and then exhaled slowly hoping to force his mind to be more attentive. He could overpower whatever drug he’d taken since he only had a few sips.

Taking small steps, he continued to move his feet, keeping his hand on the wall as an aide. The light he’d seen earlier had been the back door that was still open, and thankfully the moon was full tonight which helped make the pathway out of the stable brighter.

As he came closer to the stable door, he wondered why it was still open. Usually the stable hands closed it when they put the horses down for the night. He blinked a few more times, but still his eyesight wasn’t as focused as he’d wanted.

Shuffling of footsteps was heard, so he stopped, as did the footsteps. He trained his ears to listen for other sounds, but he couldn’t detect anything unusual.

Just as he took another step, a shadow appeared at the door. He rubbed his eyes, hoping to see better. It hadn’t worked. His vision was still blurred.

“Who goes there?” he asked with a dry throat.

The longer he stared at the shadow, the form finally took shape into a person. A woman, actually. His heart lifted. Was it Diana? He could only pray.

“Who are you?” he asked again as he took another step closer.

All he could tell was that the woman wore a black hooded cloak. Although the hood was over her head, the sides of the cloak were pulled back for him to see her silver and white dress. He couldn’t see her face at all. Yet she seemed too tall to be Diana. So who was this visitor?

“I demand you tell me,” he spoke louder this time.

The woman’s hand moved away from her body and she was holding something long and pointy. The moon hit the steel just enough that it shined.

He sucked in his breath. She held a knife! Hollingsworth and Elliot were stabbed to death. Was Tristan to be next?

He came to halt and flattened himself against the wall to hold himself up. “I demand to know who you are and why you are here.”

“I am here to kill you, my lord.”

The woman’s voice was low, and he didn’t recognize it. Perhaps if he got her to talk to him a little more, he would be able to tell who this person was.

He swallowed the lump of fear in his throat. “You wish to kill me ? Do you know who I am?”

“Not to worry, Lord Tristan. I have not confused you with anyone.”

“Why do you want me dead?”

She took a step closer. “Because you are getting too close to the truth, and I can’t have you turning me in to the magistrate.”

Confusion left his brain groggy. “Are you the one who killed Lord Hollingsworth and Lord Elliot?”

“Those men had to die because of their ill treatment of their servants. You, Lord Tristan, have not beaten or raped your servants as these other men have, but you still must die. I need to continue to rid the world of people like Hollingsworth and Lord Elliot.”

“You are not making any sense, madam. I beg you, please tell me who you are.”

The lady laughed. “I see you are all out of sorts. I’m happy to know my servant drugged your rum as I’d asked him to.”

“Please, Madam. Tell me who you are.”

“You had thought Tabitha was the killer, but she’s not, and because you put ideas into the magistrate’s head, he had her arrested. And because you are giving the magistrate false ideas, you are in turn hurting my friend. I cannot have that at all.”

I know this lady! Now her voice was starting to sound familiar, but because his hazy mind was not quite alert, he couldn’t pinpoint this lady’s identity.

“Then allow me to ease your mind,” he told her gently, soothingly. “I promise you I have not gone to the magistrate with any information. I had accused Tabitha, but within a few hours I realized my mistake. I assure you, I will not speak to the magistrate until I have solid proof.”

“Not if you are dead.” She came closer.

Silently, he prayed he would be strong enough to hold her off, or at least take the knife from her hand before she stabbed him. Unfortunately, the room still tilted and he couldn’t get his bearings.

“Is it money you want? Tell me how I can convince you to leave me alone?”

A low chuckle rumbled through her. “I am not in want of money, my lord. Only revenge.” Lifting the knife higher, she lunged toward him.

Instinctively, he raised his hand to protect his face, and at the same time scrambled to get out of her way. His limbs were too slow. The sharp blade of the knife sliced through the skin on his right arm. Burning pain ripped through him, turning his stomach quicker than alcohol had ever done.

When she pulled back and raised her hand again, he took the opportunity to move away from her. Unfortunately, he feared because of his drugged stated, she would eventually overpower him.

Oh Lord, help me!

*

Diana wandered outside, unwilling to sleep. How could she when her friend was in prison?

Since the moment the magistrate hauled Tabitha away, Diana had been doing all she could to get the maid released. Both she and Claudia had been busy today, calling on people to get statements from them, and collecting anything they could that would prove Tabitha’s innocence. Most of the evening, Diana had spent talking to the magistrate, pleading with him to free Tabitha. She’d explained to him about Tabitha’s beating two nights before Ludlow had died and that she couldn’t possibly have killed him. Diana also explained how she had kidnapped Tristan and that Tabitha had been keeping watch on him the very night Lord Elliot died. So why hadn’t the magistrate believed her?

The whole day had passed in such a state of confusion and left her mind in a dither that she had forgotten to send Tristan a note. Now it was too late. But she really wanted to see him. She needed to see him. She needed to be in his arms while he comforted her.

She glanced toward the stable. Hopefully, Claudia wouldn’t mind if Diana took a horse. She just couldn’t wait any longer.

As she walked toward the stable, she wondered why a lantern had been left on. Perhaps a stable hand was still in there putting the horses down for the night. But the closer she came to the stable, voices rang out from inside. She couldn’t quite discern who was speaking, but whoever it was, they were arguing.

Perhaps she shouldn’t go in and disturb them. It would be hard, but she’d have to wait until tomorrow to see Tristan. But then Tristan’s voice rang through the air, strong and laced with panic, almost demanding, her heart jumped in fear.

Something was wrong. She just knew it.

Within seconds, he cried out.

Lifting her gown to her ankles, she sprinted down the grassy slope toward the back of the stables. Finally, she reached the edge of the structure. Out of breath, she quietly tried to step toward the voices as she listened intently.

“You, Madam, are mad! If you kill me, you would surely hurt your friend, a friend you have claimed to care so much about,” Tristan said.

Diana inhaled sharply. Kill him? Someone was trying to kill him?

Fear sliced through her, and she knew she must do something quickly, although running back to the house to get help was not the right thing to do. Somehow, she must interfere.

“Oh, Lord Tristan, you are certainly full of yourself tonight if you think that your death will hurt Diana.”

Stumbling, she couldn’t believe what she heard. This was about her? Impossible!

“Contrary to what you believe, Diana loves me as much as I love her.”

Tears stung her eyes and her heart melted from his words, but panic still made her limbs shake. One way or another, she had to help him.

“Not to worry, my lord. I will be there for her and soothe her when she hears of your death. I assure you, she will forget about you soon enough.”

That voice! Oh, good heavens. It couldn’t be…

Diana took quick steps and rushed through the back door. The woman wearing a dark, hooded cloak turned toward Diana with a knife raised in the air, ready to swipe at her.

“Claudia, no! It is I, Diana.”

Her friend gasped and quickly brought her arm in back of her to hide the knife. The movement knocked the hood from her friend’s head, and the woman’s blonde ringlets gleamed in the moonlight.

“Diana… Wh—what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to stop you from killing the man I love.” She looked at Tristan. He stood against the wall as if he were trying to hold it up. He gazed at her through hooded eyes, as if he were intoxicated, and he was carrying his right arm… His bloody arm. “Tristan, you’re bleeding.” She rushed past Claudia and to Tristan. With one hand, he reached out to her, pulling her beside him.

“It’s just a scratch,” he said softly.

Although it was dark and shadows danced everywhere, the moon’s light let her see that the blood on his arm was not from a little scratch. Anger filled her, and she swung toward her friend. “Claudia? Did you stab Tristan?”

“I had to,” she replied in a pleading voice. “Don’t you see?”

“No, I do not. Please enlighten me,” Diana demanded.

“Lord Tristan was telling things to the magistrate that were false. That’s why Tabitha was arrested. And he’s getting too close to the truth. I will not allow this man to damage all of the good I’ve been trying to do by helping girls like Tabitha and Sally escape their hellish nightmares. Men like Lord Tristan are thorns in my side, and do you know what I do with thorns? I remove them!”

“Oh, Claudia.” Diana’s heart wrenched. “You cannot be serious. Are you the one who killed Ludlow, and Lord Elliot?”

Claudia straightened, standing her ground as she lifted her knife again. “I did, and I would gladly do it again. England is much better without monsters that enjoy tormenting women like us.”

“Like you?” Tristan asked. “Pray tell, Lady Dashwood, how do you fit in to all of this?”

“I lived with a father who beat me, only to marry a man who was worse. After I killed my husband, I vowed to find all the lowlife men who were like my husband, and do away with them.”

A few tears leaked from Diana’s eyes. Her poor, misguided friend. What had caused Lady Dashwood to go mad like this?

Diana glanced at Tristan. His gaze met hers and he pulled her tighter against his side. Comfort washed over her, yet she knew he was losing too much blood, and he wouldn’t be strong if they couldn’t convince Claudia to stop this insanity.

She looked back at her friend. “Claudia, please put the knife down. Killing Tristan will not help cleanse the world of ruthless men, because he is nothing like your husband or Ludlow. Tristan is a kind and loving and gentle man, unlike any I’ve met before.”

Claudia stepped closer and into the moon’s light. Her scowl was deep, and frightening. “Diana step away so I can do what I came here to do.”

Diana moved in front of Tristan. He tried to pull her away, but his grip wasn’t as strong. Definitely, he was losing his strength fast.

“If you still intend on killing him then you shall have to kill me first. I refuse to move!”

“Diana,” Claudia said in a harsh voice, “I beg you, move away from Lord Tristan.”

Diana lifted her chin stubbornly. “I will not.” She studied her friend closely and although Lady Dashwood was determined, her bottom lip quivered.

“It will sadden me greatly to kill you.”

“Then don’t, Claudia. Just leave us be.”

“You know I cannot. Especially now. If I don’t kill Tristan, he will have me put in prison. And if I leave you alive, you will hate me.” Lady Dashwood shook her head. “Both of you must die!”

Just as Claudia lunged toward them, Tristan pushed Diana to the ground and stumbled in front of her. He captured Lady Dashwood’s wrist and struggled with the lady to make her drop the weapon. Diana could tell Tristan was losing his strength, but he tried his hardest to fight Claudia.

Diana’s vision blurred from her tears, and she swiped the liquid away as she stood. Claudia and Tristan had moved farther away as each one fought for control. But just as Diana feared, Tristan’s weakened body crumbled to the ground. Victory shone on Claudia’s face as she raised the knife toward Tristan.

“No!” Diana screamed, and could have sworn someone else had screamed with her.

From out of nowhere, the sound of a pistol boomed through the air. Seconds later, Claudia cried out as the knife dropped from her hand. She fell to the ground, clutching her bloody hand.

Diana swung toward where the sound of the pistol had come from as Tabitha ran closer, holding the still smoking weapon.

“Tabitha?” Diana gasped. “What are you doing here?”

Tabitha peeked down at Claudia lying on the ground and kicked the knife away from the woman, and then turned her focus on Diana. “Is that the only thing you can think of to say at this moment?” She arched an eyebrow.

Diana wanted to laugh, wanted to cry, wanted to run to Tabitha and hug her. But before she did all that, there was one thing more important to do.

She hurried to Tristan. He was very weak but still alert. She fell to the ground beside him and lifted his head to place it on her lap. She grasped the end of her petticoat and ripped a long piece off the garment. “Give me your arm, Tristan.”

Without waiting for him to fully raise it, she carefully wrapped the strip of her cloth around the wound tightly.

More footsteps padded on the dewy grass followed by wheezing of air flow coming from a man. Diana looked up and met the wide-eye stare of Sir Felix, the magistrate.

“It’s about time you showed up,” Tabitha snapped. She pointed to Lady Dashwood who appeared to have passed out. “There is your killer.”

“Yes, I know,” Sir Felix huffed.

Diana shook her head. “How… how… when did you release Tabitha?” She looked to the maid. “What is going on?”

“Not too long ago, I received a visitor,” the magistrate began. “Sally, a former servant of Lord Elliot’s, came to see me, begging for Tabitha’s release. Sally had witnessed Lady Dashwood killing Lord Elliot, but feared to tell anyone because the young girl thought she would be the next to die.” He took a deep breath, his large chest lifting and falling slowly. He knelt beside Claudia and slapped wrist irons on her arms to keep her from doing any more harm. Letting out a slow breath, he turned his attention to Tristan. “Worthington? Are you all right?”

“He has been stabbed,” Diana answered for Tristan. “He will need medical help immediately.”

“I shall fetch a doctor,” Tabitha said before taking a step to run.

“Tabitha, don’t go yet,” Tristan said weakly.

The maid slowly turned back as her gaze fell on Tristan. “Why?”

“Sir Felix, will you please go fetch a doctor for me?” Tristan asked. “Now that Lady Dashwood has wrist irons on, I don’t think she’ll be going very far.”

“Yes, my lord. I’ll hurry.” He stood and rushed up the hill toward the house.

“Tabitha,” Tristan continued, grimacing as he held his hand tighter. “I want to know why you saved me when I was the one who accused you of murder last night.”

“Because… because I knew Diana loved you with all of her heart and you two deserve to be together.”

Tristan shook his head. “It’s more than that. Tell me, Tabitha. What made you change your mind about me when I know you have always loathed me?”

Diana watched as different emotions flittered across Tabitha’s face. Tears filled her eyes and she bit her bottom lip. Diana also wanted to know why her maid had saved Tristan’s life. “Please Tabitha, tell me. Tell Tristan. I have known for a while now that something has been bothering you, and I think it’s time to let us know so we can help you.”

A tear slipped from Tabitha’s eyes and her expression changed to relief. Diana held her breath, anticipating Tabitha’s confession.

*

Tristan waited for the maid to speak. His arm hurt terribly, and he had lost a lot of blood already. He really should not worry about Tabitha and seek medical help as soon as possible, but something in his heart told him to hear her out.

“Please, Tabitha,” he said. “I would like to know. You have done a very heroic thing by saving my life. Will you not think of me as a friend now?”

Indecision played on her expression for the longest time, and he wondered if she would say anything at all. Finally, she took a deep breath. She remained standing as she stared down into Tristan’s eyes.

“For many years,” she began, “I thought of you and your brothers as irresponsible men who didn’t have a care in the world. I wanted to believe all three of you were carefree, foolish men with no sense of decorum. In my mind, you were all worthless creatures who slithered along the ground and it wasn’t worth my time to even spit upon you.”

Shocked, Tristan’s eyes widened. What on earth could have made her feel that way toward his family? “Go on,” he urged, wondering if he even wanted to hear more.

“But then I got to know you a little and I realized you were not as I had expected. I heard stories about your brothers, but they were different as well.”

Shaking his head, he still couldn’t understand. “But why, Tabitha? What have I ever done to make you think that I was such a terrible person?”

“Because growing up, I’d heard how much you and your brothers were just like your father. Forgive me for speaking ill of the dead, my lord, but your father was the scum of the earth, and since his sons were supposed to be just like him…” She shrugged. “Naturally, my first instinct was to hate you.”

“Tabitha,” Diana inquired, “why would you even care about the Worthington brothers, and more importantly, their father?”

“Did you know my father?” Tristan asked warily.

Hesitantly, Tabitha nodded. “When I was a little girl, he visited my mother quite frequently.”

Tristan groaned as sadness filled his heart. He figured he knew her story already, but he decided not to say anything, and to let her continue.

“My mother was extremely na?ve, and she believed the old duke when he told her he would leave his wife and marry my mother.” Tabitha rolled her eyes. “Even as a girl I knew he would never leave a wife of good-breeding to marry a servant. Regardless, my mother continued to wait for the time she and the duke could be together. He would bring me trinkets and try to win my love and acceptance. At first, I wanted to since I had no father. Thankfully, within a few years I learned the truth.” A tear slipped down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away.

“What truth?” Tristan asked.

“That the Duke of Kenbridge… was my f—father.”

Stunned, Tristan lay still not believing what his ears had heard. She couldn’t possibly have said what he thought she said—that she was his sister? Beside him Diana gasped as her hand flew to her mouth. Her shocked gesture confirmed everything. He hadn’t imagined the words coming from Tabitha.

“M—my sister ? You, you are my s—sister?”

“Yes.”

Tabitha pushed her fingers through her dark brown hair, pulling it off her face. Tristan could now see her facial features, eyes that resembled Trey’s, a mouth that reminded him of Trevor’s. And he couldn’t forget her stubbornness that was too much like his.

“I have a sister,” he muttered to himself, still not quite believing. Yet looking at her now, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she indeed was his relation.

“I have a sister,” he exclaimed and struggled to sit up. Diana helped him until he was steady to stay aright by himself. He held out his good hand toward Tabitha. “I finally have a sister!”

A sob tore from Tabitha’s throat as she fell to her knees and grasped his hand. He pulled her in for a hug and she wrapped her arms tight around his shoulders, burying her face into his neck. Hot tears dampened his skin, but he didn’t care. Emotion clogged in his throat and he didn’t dare say anything without his voice cracking.

Diana sat back as she let brother and sister share a tender moment. He smiled at her and gave her a wink. Tears streamed down her face and she covered her mouth with her hands, but he could see her happiness through the twinkle in her eyes.

Tabitha pulled back and wiped the tears off her face. “For years I hated you and your brothers because you were living the life I would never have. I knew the old duke wouldn’t tell his family about his illegitimate daughter, and I really didn’t want to claim the Worthingtons as family, either.”

He cupped her face. “Can I share a little secret with you? I had a difficult time claiming my father, as well.”

Tabitha hiccupped a laugh.

“However, I shall be very proud to tell all of England that you are my sister.”

Tabitha shook her head as color left her face. “Oh no, my lord. I don’t want you to do that. I wouldn’t be able to handle the ridicule.”

“We shall talk about this later.” He smiled through the pain in his arm that made his limb turn numb. “But right now, if the two of you will help me into the house, I would love to lie down as I wait for a doctor.”

“Oh, Heavens.” Tabitha stood and dried her face. “I shall go help the magistrate fetch the doctor—”

“No.” Tristan quickly grabbed her hand. “Stay. I would like my sister to assist Diana.”

As Tristan struggled to stand with an arm around each woman, he felt complete for the first time in his life. On his right he held the woman who would always be in his heart, and soon to be his wife, and on his left, he held the one thing he’d wanted when he was a young boy.

A younger sister.