by Riker, Becky
“Sometimes my family is surprised by what I say, but rarely are they astonished that I have said something I oughtn’t.”
Finn scratched at his cheek, making Naomi wonder if his beard was coming in. She had never seen him without a little stubble on his cheeks, but he had shaved completely for the wedding.
“I suppose there are benefits to having an outspoken wife,” his comment came slowly.
“Can you think of any?” she was truly curious.
He laughed, “I shall not have to worry about you keeping anything from me.”
“You are assuming I cannot keep a secret.”
“Can you?”
“Not very easily.”
His smile grew.
She knew she would have to keep the secret about all she had learned of him. He undoubtedly did not want all his faults brought back to him.
“Tell me, did any of your tutors succeed?”
She thought for a moment, “I do play piano, and I have a fair grasp on literature and geography.”
“Languages?”
She shook her head, “My French is terrible.”
“This is just as well,” he consoled her, “as I am not a fan of France.”
“Perhaps,” she argued, “but all ladies of good breeding should speak it fluently.
“Your mother has lectured you on this, I suppose.”
“My father,” she corrected his assumption. “He was afraid I would never find a husband, and he would be forced to support me all my life.”
Finn stared at her a moment. Then he spoke, “It was your father’s decision, wasn’t it?”
She did not have to guess at what he was asking.
“Yes. He made the decision the night he met you.”
Finn’s eyebrows rose, “I had not even met you.”
She laughed softly, “I hardly think that would matter to him. He had already decided he wanted me to marry you.”
Finn stared out the window, but she doubted his eyes were seeing anything in the dusky countryside.
“I am sorry,” she interrupted his thought. “I know you would have preferred a wife who wanted you. . .one who knew you and chose you.”
A humorless laugh met her statement, “Mrs. Haydn, I would have settled for a wife who chose me. It would be impossible to assume that one who knew me would want me.”
CHAPTER THREE
Naomi did not ask her husband to stop for the night. He was in a brooding mood, and, though could not yet discern how that would fully manifest itself, she had experience enough with her father to know it was best to avoid confrontation while the mood lasted.
They arrived at the seashore during the darkest period of the night. Naomi initially feared he would insist on finding a boat to take them to the island, but he surprised her by telling her they were to lodge on the mainland for the night.
“Please lock the door, and do not leave your room without me,” he said as he stood in her portal.
“Mr. Haydn,” she spoke up to ensure he would hear her though he was turning away, “it was not my intention to injure you.”
He stopped moving, but he did not look back at her, “Do not concern yourself, madam. I am well.”
Naomi had experienced both pleasant dreams and nightmares regarding her wedding night. None of them resembled this. The room was nice but empty. Despite her relief at not being forced into a physical relationship with a man she scarcely knew, Naomi wished for his company for just a few minutes more.
She went to bed quickly and quietly, hoping to repair in the morning some of the damage done of the evening. Despite the strangeness of the bed, her nap along the journey, and her unsettled mind, Naomi fell asleep instantly.
“Naomi,” a voice woke her from a deep sleep. “Are you in there, Naomi?”
She sat up in bed and looked around, trying to remember where she was.
“Naomi,” the voice was louder now, “if you don’t answer, I’m going to break down this door.”
“Perhaps she has stepped out,” another voice spoke.
“She had better not have stepped out,” the first voice was angry.
Naomi rose to unsteady feet and crossed the floor.
The door shook with the force of the next knock, “Naomi.”
She recognized that voice now. She opened the door without thinking, “What on earth are you doing, Mr. Haydn?”
Her husband’s scowl turned to astonishment and then something else. He opened his mouth to say something, but clamped it shut just as quickly as he turned to glare at the man beside him. The older man blinked and then pivoted to hurry down the hall. Finn propelled his wife none too gently into her room and shut the door behind himself.
She planted her fists on her hips and was about to share her opinion on being so manhandled when she realized she was still in her nightdress.
Her hands went to her mouth just before she spun around and tore her dressing gown from the foot of her bed.
“Mrs. Haydn,” his voice was low, “why didn’t you answer the door?”
She fastened her belt quickly, still facing away from him “I did.”
He took a step to move around her and look down at her, “I’ve been knocking for so long that the innkeeper came to see what was going on.”
She stepped a little closer, “Perhaps that was because you were knocking so loudly you woke every person in the inn.”
“Every person save my wife,” the last word was spoken with a bite.
“I am awake now,” she pointed out the obvious with an icy glare that could have frozen the channel.
Finn’s nostrils flared as he stared down at her. She waited for his response. She was surprised when she got it.
He lifted one hand and threaded his fingers through the ends of her hair, “You’re lovely.”
His whispered words surprised Naomi so much she lost all ability to speak.
Finn leaned down and brushed a kiss over her lips before standing upright again.
“I’ll be ready when you are, Naomi,” he moved swiftly from the room.
She could not move for some minutes. The only thing that finally set her stubborn feet in motion was the remembrance that she would only see that man again once she was ready to leave.
“That was remarkable,” Finn commented as she descended the stairs.
She cocked her head in question.
“I have never seen a woman get ready so quickly,” he offered his hand as she neared the bottom. “My mother and sister are tediously slow about it.”
She took his hand willingly but cautiously. His good mood was a surprise. Was he simply acting a part for the benefit of the other inn patrons or was he truly in a better mood this morning? If it were the former, she should be grateful he was, at least, not causing a scene.
Finn seated her at a corner table, “Do you become ill on the water?”
Naomi frowned at the conversation opener.
“If you do, it may be best to take only tea and dry toast right now.”
“Oh,” she smiled at him but did not receive an answering grin, “I cannot say as I have never been on the water.”
He looked surprised, “Never?”
“Unless you count the raft my brother and I made when we were children. We would float it down the trout stream and land on a little island where the fishing was excellent.”
The maid approached them with plates of food and cups of tea.
Naomi sense Finn was interested in her story, so she continued.
“Of course we had not the strength to push ourselves against the current to go back upstream, so we always had to drag it back up the bank.”
“Was it very large?”
She was pleased that his tone was casual.
“No, but we typically had fish to carry as well. On occasion, my father’s tenant, Mr. Pennywinkle, would see us coming and help us to get the raft back to the shed. He was happy to take a fish in payment.”
“Did you and your brother clean and cook your ow
n catch then?”
Naomi wrinkled her nose, “Cook showed us how to do it when we asked her, but it was not an enjoyable experience. We were content to give her the fish and eat it later.”
He chuckled, and Naomi found herself trying to remember other funny things from her childhood just to hear the sound again.
“Do you still fish?” he spoke before any more memories could surface.
She shook her head, “My father came home from town three years ago and put an end to all unladylike behavior.”
“To create a bride, I suppose.”
She nodded, “He said my mother had been too permissive, and it was time we children grew up.”
“Was Miss Ruth found wanting as well?”
Naomi sipped her tea before answering, “Ruth was but eleven at the time. He did not feel so anxious about her situation.”
“And the youngest is often coddled,” his voice held a touch of bitterness.
“True, but Ruthie was always more ladylike than I. She will probably marry at an earlier age and be happy to sit and embroider all day long.”
Finn watched her over the top of his tea cup as if waiting for more, but Naomi found herself afraid to say anything else.
“Are you finished eating?” he pointed to her half-finished food.
She stirred it with a fork, “I’m sorry. It is a pity to waste it, but I find I have little appetite this morning. I believe it is due to nerves.”
“Nerves?” he rose and offered her a hand.
“I am travelling, sir, and everything is such a new experience that I find I cannot do it with the poised demeanor my father was so hoping to instill in me.”
Finn’s smile lit his eyes, “I hope you are able to ignore those lessons in etiquette long enough to enjoy the trip.”
She laughed back at him as they left the inn together, “It is to be hoped, Mr. Haydn, that I can enjoy our time without abandoning all ladylike behavior.”
Once they settled in the carriage for their short trip to the docks, Naomi decided it would be best to clear the air completely regarding the night before.
“Finn,” she began carefully, “I am sorry for causing you pain last evening.”
She was prepared for the change to his dark mood.
“It is best left alone,” he immediately shifted away from her.
“I beg to differ, sir,” she pressed him, unafraid. “I think you misunderstood me, and I would like to be clear.”
“I understand that you came into this marriage, not of your own choice, but because you were required to do so by your father – a man apparently more concerned about financial gain than about his own flesh and blood.”
Naomi was not surprised to him speak of her father in such a manner, but it grated, nonetheless. She decided to put that topic aside for a later time.
“Did you believe me to be attached to you?” she had to know.
He was surprised by the question.
“The first time I met you, we exchanged little more than two words.”
“I thought you were shy,” he explained with little patience.
“I hope that wasn’t what caused you to offer your hand to me. I have never been shy.”
“So I have learned,” his wry response was almost comical.
“My father told me not to speak because I would frighten you away.”
He opened his mouth to answer, but the carriage stopped suddenly, forcing Finn to redirect his attention.
“Have we arrived already?” Naomi twisted to look out the door.
“No,” Finn’s expression was serious as he exited the carriage quickly. He closed it and turned away but spun back to look at her through the window.
“Stay in here,” he ordered.
Naomi hadn’t had any intention of following him out into the dirty streets, but she was now curious as to why he felt the need to tell her to remain in the carriage. She decided to do as she was told, but she did lean as close to the window as she could without actually leaning out of it.
“I don’t care what the reason,” her husband’s voice was soft, but it carried well.
The other man’s voice was louder, but he had an accent, and Naomi could not make out much of what he was saying.
Finn’s volume dropped further.
Naomi pressed against the door, hoping to better discern the conversation. Unfortunately, the position was awkward, and, after a very short while, her legs began to cramp.
“Oh, phooey,” she whispered. “I wasn’t hearing anything anyway.”
She made an attempt to push herself back into her seat, but her foot slipped out from under her. Naomi lost her balance altogether and slammed her shoulder against the inside of the carriage door. Somehow, her brush with the door managed to release the latch, and the door opened.
Not in any position to catch her descent, Naomi slid, head and shoulders leading the way, out into the muddy street. Her middle and feet followed but not in that order. When she was a child, it was fun to do backward tumbles. It was not fun now.
CHAPTER FOUR
All conversation ceased the moment Naomi hit the ground.
The lady was momentarily too stunned to right herself, but she soon felt strong hands straightening her, though she was not being lifted off the ground.
“Are you injured?” Finn’s anxious face was inches from hers.
She took a quick inventory of her parts, “I do not believe I am.”
The concern was gone, and he now looked annoyed, “I told you to remain where you were.”
Naomi struggled to a sitting position, “Are you imagining I am out here like this on purpose?”
Finn assisted her to her feet.
“I assure you, Mr. Haydn,” she adjusted her skirts around herself, “I did not intend to join you out on the street.”
“Mr. Haydn,” a man approached him from behind.
Finn held his palm toward the other an in an obvious display of impatience, “Just deal with it, Randolph.”
He all but lifted his wife into the carriage before following her and slamming the door.
Naomi reached up and removed her hat, knowing it was so muddy there was no salvaging it. She then pulled down her curls, removing pins as she worked her fingers through the wild tresses, her eyes ever on her husband.
Finn met her gaze with narrowed eyes.
She was just refastening her hair into semblance of order when he spoke up.
“What happened?”
She decided to give him part of the truth, “I tried to straighten up in my seat, and I tipped over.”
His brow lowered further still.
“My limb had fallen asleep,” she admitted. “I couldn’t quite get it situated. I went,” she motioned with her hand to demonstrate the general direction of her slide.
His lips twitched.
She pointed a finger at him, “I do not desire to be the source of your amusement, Mr. Haydn.”
He rubbed a finger over his top lip.
Naomi rolled her eyes at the gesture.
The carriage started up again, but they did not have far to travel. Apparently, the small craft was just waiting for them before crossing the water to the island because as soon as Naomi was seated below the deck, the boat began to move.
“How long will it take to get to the island?” she wished she could more easily see the waves that were rushing by, but she was not sure if it was acceptable to be up and walking about the boat while it was in motion.
“Not more than an hour.”
“Oh,” she craned her neck a little further.
His soft laugh drew her attention, “Would you care to walk above deck?”
She almost agreed, but then she caught herself, “Is that quite proper?”
“There is nothing improper about it,” he assured her, “but I thought you would be more comfortable down here.”
She winced, “Because I am such a mess?”
“Because you are a little damp, and it gets cold on deck,” h
e rose and held out a hand, “particularly in November.”
She allowed him to assist her up the stairs and then she slid her hand into the crook of his arm.
“Please tell me if you are becoming cold,” he said as he led her to the rail. “I would not have you catching a chill.”
She nodded and watched the land disappear behind them. It was fascinating to move so quickly. There was little resistance from the waves, and, despite the season, there was no bite to the air.
“Does it make you want to become a sailor?” Finn spoke low.
Naomi managed to hold back her laughter at the thought, “Hardly a suitable occupation for a young lady.”
“True,” his voice dropped further still, “but if you were to dress as a cabin boy, you might find passage. By the time you were discovered, it would be too late to set you ashore.”
Naomi gasped as she looked up at him.
He wore a solemn expression, but his eyes were twinkling with mirth.
“You heard me speaking to Lady Jillian on the night of the ball,” she accused him.
His smile spread to his lips, “I confess I did.”
Naomi was mortified. How had he even been induced to marry her after such a thing?
“Your mother said you are in town for the entire season,” Lady Jillian chose a seat near the younger woman as they took a break from the dancing.
“I am,” Naomi tried not to sigh. She would have much preferred being home in the country.
The duchess smiled, “And you are not enjoying yourself?”
Naomi wished it were not so obvious, “It is a little tiresome, actually.”
Jillian’s lovely face displayed amusement rather than shock, “Have there been many suitors?”
“I don’t know if they are properly called suitors,” she spoke softly. “Men I do not even remember meeting, have come to the house asking for my hand. It hardly seems a prudent way to go about marriage.”
“I imagine we would all prefer to meet a man, fall in love, and then marry after a long and romantic courtship,” Lady Jillian commiserated with her friend.
Naomi shook her head, “Not me. I would prefer not to marry at all.”
Jillian was well and truly surprised at that, “Oh? What would you do instead?”
“I believe I should like to sail,” Naomi said the first thing that popped into her head. “I think being a captain’s mate would suit me just fine.”