Lady in the Mist - Laurie Alice Eakes [100]
“Don’t you want to help find out who is causing these disappearances?” They had reached her garden, and he turned to face her, his back to the gate. “The village, the entire eastern shore, would be grateful to you. Mayor Kendall would shower you with so many honors Wilkins wouldn’t be able to touch you—if he isn’t the man we’re seeking.”
“Dominick, no. He wants to be a senator.”
“Which takes a great deal of money. Or do you think this person is doing it out of the goodness of his heart toward England’s struggle with France?”
“No, but—” She felt out of breath, as though she’d been running.
The sky was darkening, from the setting sun in the west and cloud cover in the east.
“You need to go,” she said with a heart full of regret.
“I know.” His lashes dropped over his eyes. “Will you help me if I promise I won’t leave you behind?”
“You expect me to believe Lord Dominick Cherrett would take Midwife Tabitha Eckles back to his august family?” She snorted. “Don’t make promises like that. It only makes it hurt worse when they’re broken.”
A glint of anger flashed through his ridiculously long lashes. “Then you’d rather see me in bondage for years and no future beyond just to keep me near you? Is that any way to show your love?”
If you can’t trust God, you can’t trust anyone, and if you can’t trust anyone, you can’t enjoy their love. The pastor’s words rang in her head as though the man stood beside her.
Tabitha shook her head. “Maybe I love you too much to expect you to stay here after you’re free, or to be saddled with a bride who would shame you to your family.”
“You wouldn’t shame me with anyone, Tabitha.” He cupped her chin in his hand and leaned toward her.
She turned her face away so his lips merely brushed her cheek. “Don’t use embraces to persuade me. I can’t think when you touch me. I want to agree . . .” She backed away from him, her hand to her middle. “But you know that, don’t you? Kiss me into senselessness, and I’ll do anything?”
“Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t do something like that.”
“Look me in the eye and tell me that, Lord Dominick.”
“Of course I kissed you to win you to my side before asking for your help.” He looked her in the eye, and the impact of his chocolate brown irises melting into hers was nearly as compelling as his touch. “I decided immediately to use all my charm on you—the spinster, too-often abandoned midwife—to get your help. Who better? You can go wherever you like whenever you like without anyone gainsaying you. But it all changed. Oh, Tabitha, how I got caught in my own web, hoist by my own petard.”
How she wanted to believe him. Only the stiffness of her spine stopped her from leaning toward him, resting her head on his shoulder, promising him anything.
“So if God is involved in our lives, why does He make us suffer?” she cried.
“We make ourselves suffer, Tabitha.” He stroked her cheek—her wet cheek. “I railed against His church. You rejected Him. He didn’t make us do those things.”
“And now we have to pay for our actions?” She shook her head. “I don’t see that as God loving me like a parent.”
“Parents—” He stopped, and a look of pure pain contorted his features. “I hope God loves us more than parents do. If He doesn’t, I’m doomed.”
“Your father wasn’t loving?” she asked tentatively.
He emitted a bark of humorless mirth. “Quite the opposite. But if I succeed here, he might . . . not be ashamed of me.”
“Then you can’t take me back to England with you for sure.” She thought her own pain would crush her chest. “He would never respect you for—for caring about me.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again and shifted his shoulders as though they ached from carrying a heavy burden. “If I succeed, if I bring honor back to the family, he might allow anything.”
“But I can’t place you in a position to have to choose between me