by Riker, Becky
Finn pulled her to a stop, glanced around the wooded area, and leaned down to kiss her. Naomi was initially surprised, but, when he did not immediately release her, she gave in to the feeling of his hands on her face and his lips on hers.
He finally pulled away, “You are a fascinating woman, Naomi Haydn.”
She could only manage a wide-eyed nod before he took up her hand and led her back to the cottage.
Finn hardly let her leave his sight the rest of the day. Following a rather late tea, he led her into the sitting room.
“Tell me, Naomi, what else would you do?”
“Do?”
“If you were not afraid of society’s censure – of your father’s displeasure?”
She could not tell if he was serious or in jest.
“You have admitted to fishing and climbing trees. Do you have other skills of which I should be aware?”
She shook her head, “I would hardly call those skills. They are play activities.”
“And do you perform them well?”
Naomi laughed at that, “I honestly have not attempted to climb a tree since I was twelve. I found, even then, that my skirts were becoming too voluminous to do justice to the activity.”
“Did you fall?”
“Yes,” she answered, a bit chagrined at having to admit it. “Right into a bush below.”
“Did you break anything?” he looked her up and down as thought checking for any residual damage.
“Just some of the flowers off the azalea below.”
“I suppose it softened your landing.”
“Perhaps, but it was also told tales of what I had been doing. My mother was displeased.”
He grinned, “You had been told not to climb trees.”
She snorted, “I had been told not to climb that tree. My brother had fallen into the azalea just the week before.”
His grin turned to a chuckle, “I am so glad I married you, Mrs. Haydn.”
Naomi flushed with pleasure.
He brought her fingers to his lips, “Shall we retire?”
She was filled with equal parts of anticipation and terror.
They arrived at their chamber, and he pulled her to a stop as she was stepping into the room.
“If you do not wish this,” he looked her in the eye, “I can find a bed elsewhere.”
She thought about it for a moment, then slowly shook her head.
He took a deep breath and followed her in, closing the door behind himself.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Naomi woke the next morning. Alone.
She sat up and looked around her, wondering if her husband had taken a chair by the fireplace or if he was, perhaps, getting dressed for the day. A frown creased her brow when she realized he was not in the room.
Naomi got up and ready for the day. He did not reappear while she was doing so. She sighed at her own silly romantic ideas and went downstairs.
“Good morning, Mrs. Haydn,” Mrs. Baker was chipper as she bustled between the kitchen and the dining room, laying out food.
“Good morning, Mrs. Baker,” Naomi greeted her with as much energy as she could muster. “Do you know where Mr. Haydn is this morning?”
Mrs. Baker stopped moving, “He isn’t still abed?”
Naomi told herself not to blush at the question, “No. He was already up and gone before I woke.”
“Perhaps he has gone for a walk,” the lady did not look like she believed her own words.
Naomi planted her hands on her hips, “Where is my husband, Mrs. Baker?”
“I am not sure,” the woman admitted, looking at the floor.
Naomi tapped her foot impatiently.
Mrs. Baker stalled for just a few moments longer, but, when she spoke, her words came out quickly, “Sometimes, when the young master has been here, he takes a trip through the village, looking in shop windows since they are not open yet. He is an early riser, you know.”
Naomi did not know that.
“Some days he walks down to the docks and visits with the boatmen to see what news there is from the mainland.”
Naomi felt her patience waning, “He would hardly do so today since we just arrived yesterday. Is there someone he would. . .?”
She was interrupted by the door opening.
Both women turned in relief to look for Mr. Haydn. Both sets of shoulders dropped at the sight of Mr. Baker.
“Good morning, fair ladies,” he was grinning broadly. “We had a good dusting of snow last night, and it looks like a fairyland out of doors.”
“Mr. Baker,” his wife interrupted him before he could expound on the beauties of the day, “do you know where Mr. Haydn is?”
His smile faltered.
Naomi felt her heart sink into her knotted stomach. Suddenly, she did not want to know where Finn was. She seated herself in the nearest chair.
“Would you care for some tea, madam?” Mrs. Baker hovered. “Or, perhaps some coffee is what you need this morning.”
“Tea would be fine, Mrs. Baker. Thank you.”
Mr. Baker hovered, “How about a scone? Mrs. Baker makes wonderful scones.”
“I don’t think so, but thank you.”
Naomi tried to get her curiosity in check. She had heard of his scandalous behavior prior to their marriage, but she hoped none of it was true. Or, if he had engaged in lecherous deeds at one time, he would cease to do so once they were married. She certainly hadn’t thought he would revert to them on their wedding trip.
Her mother was wrong. If Finn really was out seeking other entertainment, her humiliation wasn’t private at all. Everyone knew about it; they simply didn’t speak of it in her presence.
She inhaled deeply and rose, determined to find a book to read.
“Good morning,” Finn came into the dining room with a smile on his face. “You look lovely.”
He didn’t have the bearing of a guilty man, but maybe he didn’t realize he had been caught.
“Good morning, Mr. Haydn,” Naomi knew her voice was cool.
He looked surprised, “Is something wrong?”
How could she answer such a question? To tell him of her suspicions would be detrimental if he were simply out for a walk.
She softened her tone, “I missed you this morning.”
Finn glanced toward the kitchen door before pulling her into his arms, “I went to look at the snow on a particular hill. I thought you might enjoy sledding.”
She laid her head against his broad chest and wrapped her arms around his middle.
“I’m sorry I left so early,” he whispered into her hair. “You were sleeping soundly.”
She leaned away from him, “I always sleep soundly, Finn.”
He let her go, “I have noticed this.”
She went up to change into warmer clothes while he informed the Bakers of their plans.
Sledding was exhilarating. They stayed on the hill until some children arrived to make use of the new snow.
“Thank you for thinking of this,” Naomi walked alongside her husband as he pulled the sleds home.
“It was my pleasure.”
“It is a beautiful day,” she commented.
“My sister would say it is a gift from God.”
“Is your sister devout?”
He shrugged, “She tells me her faith is a relationship not a religion.”
Naomi was slightly uncomfortable with the turn on the conversation, “Do you know who owns this land?” she pointed to the hill they had just left.
He nodded, “This is owned by a gentleman who knows my Uncle George.”
“It seems to be a popular place to play,” she turned to view the masses of young people who arrived just in the last two minutes.
“Yes” he looked somewhat troubled. “It has always been popular.”
Naomi stepped closer to him, “Did you come here as a child as well?”
He nodded, “With my uncle and, on occasion, with my father.”
“Not your mother?”<
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“She has never cared to come. It was her family’s land, but they were forced to sell half the property some fifteen years ago. I believe it was painful for her.”
“And your brother and sister?”
He turned her toward home, “Both of them did and still do come here on occasion. When Rowan lost his wife a few years ago, he stayed for three months.”
Naomi had only heard part of the story. She knew that the young wife had died just a few months after marrying the younger Haydn brother, but she did not know anything more than that.
“How did she die? Was it an accident?”
Finn swallowed hard and kept walking.
Naomi was quite curious, but she recognized a closed door when she saw one. She did not say any more the rest of the trip home.
They arrived at the house, but, when she would have climbed the steps to go inside, he put a hand on her arm.
“Are you very cold?”
That was a surprise, “No, not at all.”
Finn led her around to the back of the house and seated her on a wooden bench.
“My brother married Alice despite my parents’ objections. She was from a good family, but she had been seen in the company of particular gentlemen, and there was some talk . . .”
Naomi nodded to indicate she understood.
Finn grimaced and continued “From the very beginning, she was unfaithful.”
Naomi felt a sharp stab at that statement.
“Rowan found out and put her under careful supervision. She could not leave their house unless accompanied by a member of our family.”
Naomi wondered if the young bride had taken her own life.
He rose and turned his back on her, “Alice had been a spoiled child – never been told she couldn’t have what she wanted. She retaliated by telling Rowan,” he stopped and hung his head.
Naomi stood and moved around to face him.
His words were very soft, “She told him she was expecting a child – my child.”
Naomi gasped.
“It wasn’t true of course,” he rushed on. “I had never laid a hand on my brother’s wife. Rowan and I were very close.”
Naomi could see the pain on her husband’s face.
“And even if we weren’t, I could see her for who she was.”
“What happened?”
Finn placed his hands on her cheeks, “You’re cold. We should go inside.”
She resisted, “I am not cold. Please continue.”
He nodded and dropped his hands to his sides, “Rowan told her I could keep her. He had her maids pack some belongings, and he dragged her to my house. He threw her out of the carriage along with her trunk.”
Naomi listened in horror.
“My sister, Tessa, was staying with them and tried to convince Rowan not to do it, but he was too angry. She even went along in the carriage, hoping to convince him at the final moment.”
“Did you let his wife in?”
“I was away from home. My housekeeper did not believe Alice’s story, but she said she could remain in the foyer and wait for me.”
“What did you do with her?”
Finn flinched, “I never saw her. I did not return until morning, and she had left by then.”
“Where had she gone?”
“I don’t know,” he scrubbed a hand over his face. “I mean to say, I do not know where she was planning to go. A dairyman found her in an alley. She had been. . .she was dead. She was not near my house, so we do not know if she was abducted or if she found her way to that side of town on her own.”
Naomi reached for his hands, “I am so sorry, Finn. I am sorry you got dragged into that mess.”
He shrugged.
“And your brother?” she was afraid of the answer.
“He blames me for Alice’s death. He still believes she was carrying my babe.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“And you do not speak to each other,” she guessed the outcome of the story.
Finn shook his head, “Not if we can avoid it.”
“I suppose you have tried explaining it.”
“He is, in no way, interested in hearing the truth,” Finn turned toward the house.
Naomi watched him walk away, her heart aching for what he had lost.
He turned back to her with a half-smile, “Do you plan to join me indoors?”
She hurried to catch up, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow.
They spent the remainder of the day indoors, reading and playing a card game Naomi had played as a child.
“Where did you learn this, Naomi?” Finn was studying his cards.
She played a set, “I am not sure. I’ve known how to play for as long as I can remember.”
“A governess, perhaps,” he played a card on top of her set.
“Perhaps,” she stopped playing to think about it, “but we only had one governess, Miss Diltmoore, and she left us when she found she was expecting.”
“Your governess was expecting?”
She laughed, “Not until she was Mrs. Garret, of course. She married our coachman when I was nearing my seventh year.”
Finn’s brow creased, “Were not romantic entanglements forbidden among your father’s staff?”
She shook her head, “I know it is not a common practice to allow them, but my mother never saw any harm in it.”
“And your father?”
“He was not home enough to give it any attention. My father spends most of his time in London.”
Finn folded his hand of cards down onto the table, “Is this how you see our life?”
Naomi was not sure what he was talking about.
“Me, spending my time in London while you and the children live apart from me. At Selby, perhaps.”
She did not care for his tone, but she spoke calmly, “We have never spoken of it, Finn. I do not know what to expect.”
He seemed only slightly mollified, but he picked up his hand and played again.
She played her last card and won the round.
He did not comment on her win. Instead, he returned to the conversation, “And you will not have a governess?”
Naomi drew the cards to herself in order to shuffle them, “Again, sir, I have not given it much thought.”
It occurred to her that she should keep her mouth closed while she was irritated, but she did not heed that soft reminder, “We all tend to think of domesticity in terms of what we knew as children, but, frankly, I had hoped to not marry a man like my father. How that alteration would change my home life, I didn’t know.”
Finn’s eyes narrowed, “What is wrong with your father? Was he a drunkard? Did he treat you roughly?”
“He just was not. . .” she searched for the words, but she did not know how to convey her feelings for her father.
“He was not. . ?” Finn prompted her to finish.
“Hmm,” she nodded as she folded the cards together once again, “that is actually the problem.”
“What?” he put his hand on the deck to prevent her from shuffling them any further.
“He just wasn’t.”
Finn’s jaw twitched in impatience.
“He was not there. He was not loving. He was not a father.”
Finn clearly understood at this point.
“He provided for us physically and ignored us.”
“Until he decided it was time for you to marry.”
“Yes,” she laughed softly. “Until then. I never had so much attention from him as I did when he determined I should have a tutor and new dresses, and I should spend less time with Asa.”
“I am trying to feel your sense of loss, but I confess I am glad he interfered.”
She raised her eyebrow.
“I think, had he not decided it was time for you to grow up, you would still be out playing in the mud instead of here with me.”
Naomi threw her pencil at him with a laugh. He caught it easily before suggesting they retire for the night.
Naomi had trouble getting to sleep. She kept replaying her conversation with Finn. She had told him what her own father was like, but she knew little about his growing years.
There were rumors about his father, but she heard little about his mother. Had she been the type to encourage play in her children? Perhaps she was religious like her daughter.
Naomi thought back to her conversation with Finn’s sister during their engagement. Naomi had gone to London to do some shopping for her trousseau. Lady Theodosia had been in town at the same time and had come to call.
“Has Finn written to you?” Tessa sat in the Price’s front parlor.
“He has,” Naomi stirred her tea. “I received a letter just this morning saying he was going to be delayed another week.”
“How discouraging.”
Naomi was not sure it was discouraging. After all, she hardly knew the man, and she would be forced to spend time with him soon enough.
She changed the subject, “Lady Theodosia, Mr. Haydn told me you and Lord Nicholas live very near him. That must be comforting to be close to your family.”
The lady laughed, “Please, call me Tessa. Only my mother calls me Theodosia.”
Naomi smiled at the young woman, “Thank you, Tessa.”
“As to my family being close,” she sighed. “My mother does not travel often. She did stay with me for a month, but found she would be more comfortable back at Selby. Finn and Rowan are typically in town or off on holiday.”
“I’m sorry.”
Tessa shook her head, “Do not be. I have a wonderful companion in my husband. Not all women can boast that I think.”
Nomi had to know, “Was your marriage arranged?”
“Not really,” Tessa set aside her tea cup. “I met Nicholas at church. He and I discovered we shared our faith in Christ. I believe our relationship took a natural course after that.”
Naomi punched her pillow. She would ask Finn in the morning about his childhood, and, maybe she could discover what his expectations were.
The rest of the month was spent in pleasant pursuits. They had only trifling disagreements, and they managed to keep conversations to happier topics.
“It is only a fortnight until Christmas,” Finn was sitting up against the headboard when she awoke one morning. “I imagine our families are wondering whether we are dead or alive.”