by Riker, Becky
Jillian blinked, “I am not sure you fit the typical job description.”
“Oh,” Naomi flicked her fan at an irritating fly, “I wouldn’t expect to start off as a first mate. I could see myself as a cabin boy.”
Lady Jillian laughed, “Except you aren’t a boy.”
Naomi leaned in toward her friend, “But if I cut my hair off and dressed like a boy, I could pass myself off as one.”
Jillian was still laughing, “I think they would discover your deceit.”
“Perhaps,” Naomi agreed, “but not until we were well away from the shore.”
Naomi had not given a thought to that conversation since the night of the ball. She surely had not dreamed anybody else was listening.
“Very unchivalrous to listen in on a conversation, sir,” she chastised him as she attempted to pull her hand from his arm.
He gripped her fingers with his free hand and kept her nearby, “It is a good thing I did listen,” he argued softly. “It was that conversation that made me decide to ask for your hand.”
“That is absurd,” she turned her face away from him.
“Possibly,” he drew her face back to him, “but it is the truth.”
She could not tear her eyes away from the intensity she met in his.
“After the first night, I had no intention of speaking to you again. You were so quiet that I thought it would be a torture to spend another evening in your company.”
She felt a twinge of irritation at that.
“Then I heard you speaking to Lady Jillian, and I thought you were, perhaps, just nervous around me.”
She didn’t know what to say.
“You were far more lively when you were with people you knew, so I just followed you around at every event.”
“I imagine this is supposed to be flattering?”
He shrugged, “Not at all. I am simply telling the truth. After seeing you interact with others, I determined I wanted to be one of those people who you could be easy with.”
Naomi stared at her husband, “And you had to marry me to do that?”
He scowled, “Initially, I had intended to enter a courtship with you. That way we could acquaint ourselves with one another slowly.”
“What changed your mind? We had scarcely known each other for two months before my father declared he had given me away to you.”
Finn let go of a deep sigh, “I am sorry for the way that was handled. I was forced to leave on urgent business. I did not know it would take so long, or I would have found a way to put it off long enough to speak to you myself.”
“But why did you not simply wait to court me?”
“I cannot answer that. Circumstances changed, and I knew I must act quickly if I were to gain you.”
Naomi pulled away with more force, “I am not a prize to be won.”
Finn stared at her for some minutes before answering softly, “But you are, my dear. And I have.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Finn saw the hurt on her face and could not stand to continue watching her expressive eyes. He looked back out over the water. Her frame slipped away from him.
“I think I had better go below,” her voice was soft but clear. “It feels as though it has cooled some.”
Finn wanted to tell her that it was not the air that had cooled. He wished he could put his arm around her and hold her to himself to keep her warm, but he just offered her his arm again and led her down the steep stairs to the seating area below.
“Naomi,” he needed to explain himself.
She didn’t look at him.
He gave up. Finn was determined to explain what he meant, but anything he could say now would only make matters worse.
Naomi soon drifted off to sleep. He loved to look at her any time, but while she was sleeping, her beautiful face was devoid of its usual animation, and she looked so peaceful. He studied her perfect straight nose, the tiny dimple in her chin, her fine cheekbones, and bow-shaped lips. She was a beautiful woman but any standards, but Finn had seen many beautiful women who were not as lovely on the inside.
His mother had insisted he marry, and soon. He had appealed to his mother’s brother for a little more time, but Uncle George had not been able to change his sister’s mind. He began looking for a wife, but he had not liked what he found.
It seemed all the eligible ladies wanted a wealthy husband. Finn fit that requirement, but he had seen firsthand what marrying for money could do, and he was not interested in repeating history.
He had no problem with a woman marrying because she longed for security. There were few opportunities for a gentlewoman save marriage. He simply did not like the clawing and fighting some of the women employed to gain their prize.
Fin brushed a tendril of red hair from his wife’s face. She had every right to be upset at the revelation that she had been a prize. He had not appreciated being one himself, and he knew her independent nature would resent it just as much.
He was surprised she hadn’t even stirred when he touched her face. He supposed he should not have been so. She had been easy to move the day before while they were riding in the carriage, and she had certainly been sleeping soundly in her room.
His heart rate increased at the memory of her appearance at her door. Her cheeks were still pink from sleep, and her hair was completely wild around her face and down her back. He had not realized just how long and curly it was prior to seeing it that way. And then his eyes had left her face and travelled down her person. There was nothing immodest about her nightgown, but the knowledge that it was bed clothing was enough to make his breaths come harder.
Her head was tipped at an awkward angle, and he assumed she would have a sore neck when she awoke. Finn decided to try his luck. He rose and joined his wife on the seat where she rested. He lifted her feet up onto the sofa and pulled her torso into his lap. She sighed softly but did not wake. She would likely be annoyed when they stopped in just a short while, but she would not feel the effects of sleeping in such a precarious position.
He soon heard the sound of the whistle and the typical noise of the dock. Naomi, though, did not stir. He spoke her name aloud in an attempt to rouse her gently, but she slept on.
“Naomi,” he adjusted his feet under him, knowing the movement of his legs would waken her.
He was wrong.
Finn figured he could carry her up on deck in his arms, but she would not enjoy the experience.
“Naomi,” he breathed softly onto her face. “You need to wake up.”
Her eyelids fluttered.
Finn glanced around him to see if anyone was passing by the cabin. Assured that nobody was nearby, he leaned down and kissed his wife.
She responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him closer.
He hated to put an end to the moment, but he was sure they would not be alone long, and he had already taken enough advantage of the situation. He sat her up.
She sighed and dropped her head to his chest, “I think I could love you, Finneas Haydn.”
Finn jumped in surprise. Admittedly, he had been hurt to find she was forced into their marriage, but he had not expected any deep devotion from her either. He had hoped only for some affection and friendliness.
“Naomi,” his heart was beating so hard, it was sure to wake her if nothing else would.
She sat up fully and blinked at him.
He couldn’t stop the smile, “You are a very heavy sleeper, my dear.”
She nodded and began to move away from him.
He stood and helped her to her feet, “Are you able to walk now, or need we wait?”
“I am,” she cleared her throat, “I am fine. Thank you.”
He was not sure he could believe her, but he didn’t argue.
“What did I say to you?”
He led her up the stairs and across the deck, “That you were fine.”
“No,” she pulled him to a stop. “When we were down below – before I woke up.”
Finn wanted to tell her what she said just to see if she would deny it or affirm it, but he feared her response.
“You said nothing,” he lied. “A little mumbling, perhaps.”
She smiled tightly and allowed him to lead her to the waiting carriage.
The ride to his uncle’s house was very short. In fact, he occasionally walked there, but he was not sure Naomi was up to the challenge this morning.
They stopped in front of the stone house with a green roof and evergreen bushes out front.
“This is lovely,” her voice was soft as she took in every detail.
Finn led her up to the front door which was opened as they approached.
“Mrs. Baker,” he greeted the portly woman. “This is my wife.”
The woman beamed and took Naomi’s hands, “What a delight to meet you, madam. We’ve been hoping the young man would find himself a bride one day soon. And such a lovely one you are too.”
Naomi blushed at the woman’s words.
“Why don’t you take her upstairs to your room to get freshened up, Mr. Haydn,” she bustled them in out of the cold, “and I’ll put on a nice pot of tea.”
Finn took his wife’s hand and led her up the stairs. He felt an uncharacteristic nervousness as he opened the door to the room they would be sharing.
“There are but three bed chambers in this house,” he hurried to explain, “one is, of course, in use by Mr. and Mrs. Baker, and the other is not adequate.”
Naomi nodded and gripped her reticule.
“Are you. . ?” he didn’t know how to ask the question.
She swallowed hard and looked up at him, “I appreciate your generosity in providing for me a room of my own at the inn.”
He was desperately hoping she was not suggesting he take a room at the island’s inn.
“I do not expect it to continue, however.”
She may not be expecting it, but was she hoping for it?
“You are my husband, Finn, and I understand what my responsibilities are.”
“Your responsibilities,” he couldn’t stop the harsh tone.
She nodded and crossed the room to a small dressing table in the corner, “Yes, my responsibilities.”
He paced the room twice before coming to rest on the bed.
Naomi turned and looked at him in confusion.
He was confident that explaining in minute detail exactly what he hoped for was not the way to make it happen. He struggled to find the right words.
“I do not understand, Finn. You seem disappointed that I want to do what is right.”
He huffed out a deep sigh, “I no more wish to be a responsibility for you, than you care to be a prize I have won.”
He stood and hurried from the room before he could say or do more than he would regret.
CHAPTER SIX
Naomi was no little bit confused. Her husband was agitated; that could not be denied. If his pacing and little speech were no indication, storming from the room would have told her of it. She could not understand why, however. She cleaned her face and refastened her hair before exiting her room.
“You’ll find the master in the sitting room,” an elderly gentleman greeted her as she descended the stairs. He nodded his head in the direction of an open door.
“Naomi,” Finn rose as she entered.
She took the seat closest him, “You are distressed.”
“Distressed, “he laughed, but it was a harsh sound, “There is nothing wrong with me that time will not cure.”
Naomi didn’t care for his attempt at dismissal. She spoke more plainly, “You are angry, sir, and I would know why.”
“You are very forthright, Mrs. Haydn.”
“You have already remarked on this particularly quality, Mr. Haydn,” she forced herself not to look away. “Is there a reason you remind me of it now?”
He opened his mouth but then looked to the door and clamped his mouth shut.
Naomi was no more comfortable than he with the staff hearing what Finn had to say. She stood and closed the portal.
Finn laughed softly, in spite of himself, “You will press, won’t you?”
She sat next to him and waited for his explanation.
“Very well,” he nodded. “I will return your bluntness with some of my own.”
She was not sure whether to be frightened or relieved.
“I would like it if you wanted to be with me, Naomi.”
She was not sure what he was saying.
“I understand you were forced into this marriage, but I hope we can learn to enjoy each other nonetheless.”
Naomi suddenly realized how some of her words must have sounded to him.
“I do not dislike you, Finn,” she began.
He interrupted her, “You just didn’t want to be married without a choice.”
She nodded, “This is true. I would be troubled by any marriage where I did not know the man I was tying myself to.”
Finn was not appeased, but Naomi was unsure as to how far she should push his patience.
A knock sounded on the door.
Finn’s eyes didn’t leave Naomi’s face, “Enter.”
Mrs. Baker came in pushing a tray, “I brought some sandwiches as well since you probably ate little afore you came,” the lady bustled about, setting up the service. “And then you’ll need to keep your strength up for what Mr. Haydn has planned.”
Naomi’s cheeks flamed.
“I’m sure he plans to show you all his childhood haunts,” Mrs. Baker seemed oblivious to the young lady’s reaction. “He spent many a summer here when he was a lad.”
“Indeed,” Finn was barely controlling his laughter. “I plan to take her to the grove of trees where Rowan and I used to build our fort every spring.”
Mrs. Baker finished serving the tea, “That would be a fine idea, sir,” she looked at Naomi, “Anything else?”
Naomi shook her head, “Thank you, no.”
Mrs. Baker closed the door on her way out.
Naomi covered her warmed cheeks with her hands, “Mercy, that was a shock to the system.”
Finn lifted his teacup to his lips to cover his grin.
“I nearly reprimanded her for her impertinence.”
Finn’s burst of amusement caused him to spit his tea all over the tea cart and was followed by a coughing fit.
Naomi calmly picked up her own teacup and took a sip, leaving her husband to regain control of himself and clean up his own person.
“I do believe you have a somewhat vindictive sense of humor,” he tucked his handkerchief back into his pocket.
She licked a drop of tea from the edge of her top lip and reached for a sandwich, “Do I need different clothing for our walk?”
He let his eyes rove over her attire for such a long time, she was certain he was not judging their adequacy for their foray into the island’s secrets.
“You may wish to wear more sturdy shoes,” he chose his own sandwich, “but you needn’t change anything else.”
Naomi found her bite hard to swallow.
Finn finished eating, a happy smile on his face. Naomi knew he wouldn’t be so happy is he knew what she was thinking, but she decided to keep that information to herself.
“Shall I fetch your bonnet for you?” he asked as they were finishing their meal.
She was surprised by the gesture, “Please. I left it on the dressing table.”
He was down in just a few moments, making her think he had run. He had also brought from her trunk, a pair of shoes.
“These may be more comfortable for walking.”
She wondered why it seemed so intimate for him to choose her footwear.
He knelt before her and pulled the slipper from her foot, “Do you feel like Cinderella?”
Naomi told herself there was nothing whatsoever inappropriate about her husband replacing her shoe, but the pink creeping up her neck and across her cheeks said different.
He slid one shoe on and laced it up. She was glad it w
as not one of her more elaborate shoes because she could not have maintained her composure through that.
“Other foot,” he remained in a crouched position and held out a hand.
That was when she realized she was sitting on her other foot. As gracefully as possible in the situation, she dropped her foot to the floor.
“Really, Finn,” she whispered, “I am capable of dressing myself.”
He held her stocking-clad foot a bit longer than necessary before sliding the new shoe on. Then he rose and offered her an arm.
“Shall we be off?”
She quickly tied on her bonnet and then took his arm.
Naomi was grateful for the sturdier shoes. He had her walking a couple miles, sometimes on uneven ground and through damp spots. She didn’t mind the distance or the terrain as it gave them opportunity to speak.
Their conversation varied from childhood escapades to his house in London. She questioned him about his estate as well, but his answers were short, and she soon gave up on getting any information on that.
“Do you still enjoy fishing, love?”
His term of endearment startled her so that she did not answer immediately.
“Perhaps you have not had the opportunity of late?”
“Um,” she tried to form a coherent sentence. “No. I have not. I have not been allowed for a few years.”
“We must take some steps to rectify that,” he helped her over a fallen log. “Because your new husband dearly loves to fish, and he would like your company.”
“Really?” Naomi had never dreamed she would be allowed – nay, encouraged –to fish again.
“If you do not care to handle the fish, I would be content to simply have you with me in the boat or on the bank.”
“Oh.”
She should have known it was too much to ask.
Finn laughed, “I was not implying I would deny you the privilege if you still wish to fish.”
She pulled her lowed lip between her teeth to suppress a smile.
“Now, the fishing around here is not excellent, particularly in November, but we may give it a try anyway.”
“I don’t mind waiting,” she assured him as her hand slipped from his elbow to grip his fingers instead. “The anticipation of being allowed to fish again is enough for now.”