The Sweetest Love (Sons of Worthington Series)

Book
Three
in the “Sons of Worthington” series

Regency-set Romance

By: Marie Higgins

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or
dead,
is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The Sweetest Love

Copyright
© 2013 by Marie Higgins

Cover Design by Sheri
McGathy

This
ebook
is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This
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For more information about author:
 
http://mariehiggins84302.blogspot.com

After three years of only remembering pieces of his life, Tristan Worthington is kidnapped by the one woman he wishes to forget.

Wanting revenge against the man who ruined her life, Diana Hollingsworth wants Tristan to suffer as she has.

But fate has other plans…

When both Tristan and Diana are accused of murder, their worlds crash down around them. Their only hope is to find the true killer so they can be together.

Will they be able to find true happiness once again?

Chapter One

England, 1823

It was the perfect night to escape.

Storm clouds rolled in. Darkness settled over the land, hiding the stars and occasionally the moon. The brisk wind blowing from the East ushered in the autumn weather. Diana,
Viscountess
Hollingsworth grinned. She’d been waiting…anticipating…this night for several weeks now.

Withdrawing from the window, Diana sauntered out of the sitting room and into the great hall. She hoped her appearance would suggest she didn’t have a care in the world.

Her husband’s servants shuffled from one lamp to the next, lighting them. Silence stretched around her, which told her the servants were probably whispering—gossiping, actually—once again.

It had been two months since Diana found her husband in the stables stark naked…and stabbed to death. Ludlow, Viscount Hollingsworth, had smelled strongly of spirits and women’s perfume. That was nothing new. In the two horrible years she’d been shackled to him against her will, Diana had grown used to his betrayals.

On her way upstairs, she passed a few servants and nodded a silent acknowledgement. They curtsied appropriately, but she couldn’t dismiss their condescending glares when they thought Diana wasn’t looking. They’d been acting this way from the first day she had married. Her husband had made her appear like an unruly child in front of the servants, and because they were so devoted to him, their attitudes worsened over the years. She had never understood their blind loyalty to him when he’d always been so despicable and uncaring. Diana figured their attitudes would change after his death, but it only grew worse, and she could barely stand to live with them.

Tonight, that would all change.

As she turned the corner at the top of the stairs, low voices floated out from the next room. Slowing her steps, she listened closely for what they were gossiping about this time.

“Mr. Brown, did you hear the authorities have been questioning Lord Tristan Worthington about his Lordship’s murder?”

Diana halted and pressed herself against the wall. She hadn’t heard this particular subject. She shouldn’t believe all the gossip going around, but usually the servants had the most accurate information.

“Indeed, I heard, but they have no evidence, Mrs. Yearly. If you ask me, I think Lord Tristan is guilty. He had every reason to kill his lordship.”

Diana took a deep breath as unease grew inside of her. The mere idea of Tristan killing her husband was preposterous! If Tristan had wanted Ludlow dead, he would have done it three years ago. Not now.

“I agree, especially after what had happened between the two lords before she married Lord Hollingsworth. Why his lordship married her, I swear I’ll never understand.”

“Then Mrs. Yearly, you will be happy to know gossip is circulating about her ladyship lately. The magistrate should arrest her any day now.”

Diana’s heart dropped. She prayed the servants were
not
correct this time. It upset her to think that some people still looked down on her for the scandal that happened three years ago. Why could the
ton
not let the past rest? And the servants…didn’t they have anything better to talk about?

“The magistrate has taken too long as it is,” Mrs. Yearly said. “Someone needs to be arrested.
Soon.”

“I agree,” Mr. Brown grumbled. “It was a terrible and unsuspected travesty. Someone needs to pay.”

Doom closed in around Diana—worse than it had done before. She knew the reason nobody had been arrested was because the magistrate had too many suspects. Over the years, Ludlow had angered many people. One of them, Lord Tristan Worthington—the man Diana had thought would be the love of her life.
The man who should have rescued her from an unwanted betrothal.
Instead, he fled like a coward and deceived everyone around him.

He’d lied to her and had only wanted to compromise her without any intention of marriage. He’d made her life a living hell.

Unfortunately, her girlish dreams never came true. Instead of the prince she’d wanted, Tristan had turned out to be the toad in this particular fairytale.

The last she’d heard, Tristan would be getting married soon. She hoped he could find happiness, even if he had left her miserable. She was surprised the murder suspicions against him hadn’t frightened his fiancée, the widow Lady
Fairbourne
, enough to call off the wedding.

Quietly, Diana continued walking toward her chambers, not caring if the gossiping servants saw her or not. Diana would soon be out of this house and another man would take over as Viscount.

When she entered the room that had finally became her sanctuary, a maid stood by Diana’s bed turning down the covers. Only a few lamps lit the room, casting shadows all around.

“One moment, please.” Diana held up a hand as she hurried to the older woman. “Martha, this is not necessary. I shall leave tonight for an extended stay with my cousin.”

Martha Whitehead’s eyes widened. From outside, the wind picked up and howled through the closed window, rattling the pane. “Milady, it’s too late to travel…and a storm is brewing.”

Chuckling, Diana turned toward her dressing table. “I’m not a stranger to traveling in bad weather. I have lived in England all my life. I shall brave the elements and arrive safe at my cousin’s house. Besides, it’s only an hour’s drive. All will be well, I assure you.” She picked up her bonnet and placed it snuggly over her ringlets. Hopefully the maid didn’t know how far her grandmother’s cottage
really
was. “I assume you have already packed my things?”

“But of course, Milady. You instructed me to do it days ago. You just didn’t know when you’d be leaving.”

“Splendid. Please inform the footman to load the trunks onto the carriage. I shall leave as soon as he’s finished.”

Diana peered in the mirror and met Martha’s reflection. The maid shrugged and smirked.
“As you wish, Milady.”

As the thin middle-aged woman rushed out of the room, Diana clutched her hands against a rolling stomach and silently prayed everything would go smoothly. She didn’t know why she feared the worst unless it was because her life had always been a pattern of mishaps. She didn’t want anything to ruin this for her now.

Freedom was just hours away.

* * * *

“
Ever’one
raise
yer
glass and toast ta Lord Tristan’s
nup
…
nup
…
shuls
.” Tristan Worthington slurred his words as he tried to ponder on what he wanted to say. Realizing his mind was too
unclear,
he laughed and stumbled against the man standing next to him, spilling his rum over the side of his tumbler.

The man rolled his eyes. “Worthington, will ye quit
toastin
’ to
yer
own
weddin
’? We all ‘no ye aren’t
gonna
marry the lady.”

Tristan scowled at the fellow.
What was his name
…
“Ah, but my good man,
ye’re
wrong.
T’morrow
afta
-noon, I’ll be there in church
standin
’ next to my beautiful bride, lady…
er
…lady…” Tristan rubbed the throb growing in his forehead.

The other
men
who’d gathered in the tavern, released a fit of laughs. One belched loudly and lifted his cup. “Worthington has
fergotten
her name already.”

Blast it all!
Tristan grumbled. What
was
her name?
“Doesn’t matter.
I’m
marryin
’ her
t’morrow
.”

His legs wobbled and he plopped his butt down on the chair before he ended up on the floor like he had last night. Inwardly, he groaned. How many nights had he been visiting the taverns
toasting
his nuptials, anyway?
Too many to count.
Tomorrow his life—his very freedom—would end no matter how badly he wished for a different fate.

You’re making a colossal mistake, Worthington,
the warning came from the back of his mind. Yet, he
figured by marrying Lady Jane he would be able to put his past to rest once and for all, so it must be done.

“Ah-ha!” he called out loudly to his nameless associates. “I remember now. Her name is Lady Jane Fair…
er
…burn, or something like that.”