Still, she picked her way along the charming little path and didn’t stop until she heard the sounds of the creek.
And when she finally glanced up, her heart became whole once again. For there, standing on the bridge, watching her with eyes the same color of the sky, was Luke.
Her Luke.
She paused only a moment to inhale the relief she hadn’t even realized she was seeking, before striding purposefully in his direction. It was as though he’d been waiting for her.
The other half of her soul.
* * *
He saw her coming long before she’d realized he was there. He’d been staring down at the water as it swept its way down to the hill, berating himself for not leaving for London and yet also berating himself for not simply taking Naomi and Amelia away to somewhere no one would know them. Then, almost as though he’d summoned her with his imagination, she’d appeared.
Would there ever be a day that the sight of her didn’t steal his breath?
“Good morning.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. He couldn’t touch her. If he touched her, he wouldn’t be able to let go of her.
“Good morning.” She halted at the opposite end of the arched footbridge. “You haven’t left yet.” But she was smiling at him.
He couldn’t keep himself from grinning back like a fool—a lovesick fool.
“I promised I would say goodbye.”
When she’d first approached, she’d done so in a lighthearted manner. Closer now, she wrapped her arms in front of herself protectively. Luke hated for her to be uncomfortable, especially because of him.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No!” Her eyes flew open wide.
Neither of them made any move to go.
“Do you walk here often?” There were so many things he wanted to ask her. She belonged in his life. Now. Not months or possibly years from now.
“I haven’t yet. I often bring Amelia outside for walks but this is too far for me to bring her. She’s sleeping now and I needed to get away…”
“How is he?” They couldn’t pretend Arthur didn’t exist.
“He is… different.” Which wasn’t what Luke had been asking but he was inclined to agree.
“Walk with me?” He crossed half the distance between them and offered her his arm. Surely, he could control himself enough to walk a lady through the wilderness?
She only hesitated a moment before stepping forward and sliding her hand into the crook of his elbow.
Even through his shirt and coat, her touch affected him. And her nearness. Her scent hadn’t changed.
“This is my favorite part of the property.” He led her to the Blackheart side of the bridge and when he turned to walk her farther up the hill along the water, he adjusted his gait to match hers.
It reminded him of when he’d met her last spring. When she’d been tentative and innocent. When she’d flirted and neither of them had any other worries beyond the scope of the Season.
He pointed out a few of the flowers that had been his mother’s favorite and in return, she described the garden she’d enjoyed growing up in her parents’ home. His heart beat at a normal pace and for the first time in ages, he felt… whole.
“Do you hear it?” He drew her to a halt. A dull roar could be heard in the distance against the splashing of the brook.
Her brows rose and she grinned. “The infamous waterfall.”
She tugged at him to keep going, and within moments, it came into sight, and with it, the roaring of waves, tumbling from the cliff above and crashing into an otherwise placid pool. Greenery climbed the banks and rays of sunlight caught and revealed mists of spray at the base. It was exhilarating, breathtaking, and… terrifying to imagine a boy of just six and ten rowing a boat—
“It’s no wonder your parents didn’t lock you in your room for life.”
“It doesn’t seem nearly as daunting toward the end of the summer.” He provided her with more details of the harrowing experience he’d entertained her with before but fell silent when they stopped at the edge. The roar of the falls thrummed with life.
Squeezing his arm, she leaned into him. After a moment, she closed her eyes, tipped her head back, and allowed the gentle mist to land on her face.
Luke clenched his jaw to keep himself from kissing her.
He wouldn’t ruin this. He needed this. Just to be with her.
“You are right, you know.” She spoke without opening her eyes.
“I am always right, but to which of those occasions are you referring to?” He bent down so he could hear her over the water.
She slid her gaze in his direction. “The day you brought Arthur back I wanted nothing more than to walk into your arms and never let you go. I didn’t care that his mother or the butler or his brother could interrupt us. I’d feared for your life and needed only to reacquaint myself with your safety.”
“I felt the same.”
“But it is not our time.” She locked her gaze with his and then narrowed her eyes almost ferociously. “Yet. But it will come.”
“It will.” He squeezed her hand in agreement. He’d always considered himself a reasonable person before knowing her. “It damn near killed me not to claim you.” Each day she dwelled in Arthur’s home seemed to move her farther away from him.
“Until then, we can be friends?” She tilted her head.
Being only friends with this woman was almost laughable. But he understood what she was asking. Could they be civil to one another and not cut each other completely in the interim? Would he write to her? Would he continue to be a presence in her life until he could be more than that?”
He would be shipping out soon regardless. He couldn’t deny her this. “Of course.”
He needed her in his life. If Arthur lingered for years and it became too difficult… They would revisit it then.
She raised a hand to her breast. “I need to feed Amelia.” She smiled sheepishly.
These were the moments he wanted with her. The everyday occurrences that made up a life.
He turned them both and led her slowly back down to the bridge. “I didn’t expect to be away from the house for so long,” Naomi admitted ruefully.
Luke absorbed the simple act of walking with her, the feel of her presence, the sound of her voice. Another memory he would draw on while he was away. They took several steps in silence.
“Arthur held her yesterday. It was odd. I wonder if it’s the fever, but he seems like two separate people now. One moment, I see a flash of who he was before and then the next…”
Luke felt her shiver beside him and stopped. “Do you fear him?”
“He’s too weak for me to fear him in a physical sense. But there is something… He is angry with you. He mentioned wanting the two of us to start anew, at Milton Cottage, and when I told him I would never—when I brought up the lesions—he asked if you had been telling me lies? What on earth does he mean by that? Is he delusional?”
Luke exhaled slowly. As of yet, he had no proof. What purpose would it serve for Naomi to know that her daughter’s father had possibly betrayed their country?
Other than that of being honest with one another. He would tell her what he could.
“You know about the ambush.”
“Yes. And that it had been Arthur’s duty to assure the safety of that stretch of road.”
Ah, his sweet, smart girl. Of course, she wouldn’t forget such an important detail of her husband’s reported death.
“The pirates didn’t wait even a few hours before killing off the other five who had been captured. These men were committing acts of treason against England and if anyone lived to identify them, it’s almost a certainty that they would face the gallows. When I returned in December, our sole mission was to recover the munitions that had been stolen. From us and from other divisions. They had one hell of a stockpile…”
Luke met her gaze. “Our unit’s defeat last October wasn’t the first. They’d been occurring for o
ver three years. And none of the prisoners were ever allowed to live. Because if they did, and if they escaped, they could identify their captors.”
They had reached the bridge by now. He didn’t want talk of the ambush to take up their last moments alone together. “I feel guilty for keeping you from Amelia, when she has need of you.” He memorized her profile, so elegant and fragile. “But this time has been a gift.”
She turned in time to catch him studying her. “It has been a gift for me too.”
He swallowed hard. He would wait—he had no choice. “I’ll escort you to the edge of the gardens.”
As they stepped onto the path on Tempest property, she asked the same damn question that had been haunting Luke for weeks now. “Why didn’t they kill Arthur?”
Luke sighed. “I asked him that very thing. I wanted to believe he’d struck a bargain with them in exchange for his life, but rather than give me any sort of explanation, he flew into a rage—as much of a rage as a man in his condition could.”
“Was he imprisoned when you found him?”
“He was in a hut, being… tended to—”
“By a woman,” Naomi finished for him. She was coming to understand Gil’s baser tendencies all too well.
“But there was no guard. He was not tied up.” All he’d wanted was a damn explanation. He’d not been suspicious until Gil had responded by lashing back at him. “I have no evidence of anything, but the way he refused to answer any of my questions… He was uncooperative, defensive, and he kept insisting that he couldn’t remember what had happened. Though, it very well could be the fever.” Luke hated that he was even thinking these things.
They were nearing the outer trees of the garden and she slowed almost to a halt.
“He will have to make an explanation to the War Office, won’t he? After they read your report?”
“I’ve yet to send it in.” He forced himself to relax his jaw. “If he responds to them in the same manner he answered to me…”
Naomi was nodding slowly. He could see in her eyes that she followed his train of thought. Gil was ill. Very ill.
“Hell, Naomi. If he’s guilty, he deserves everything they throw at him. Men died. Good men. But if he isn’t, I don’t want him dying in prison.” It was possible Gil would spend what remained of his life defending himself.
“And your upcoming mission?”
“Is to flush out the traitor.”
The house had come into view and both of them halted. When she turned, however, she didn’t draw away from him but took hold of both his hands. “I think that Arthur Gilcrest is very lucky to have you for a friend.”
Luke stared down at their hands. Her cream-colored gloves contrasted vividly against his black ones. “If I find evidence of his guilt, I’ll have no choice but to report it.”
She squeezed his fingers and nodded.
Her daughter awaited her inside. Luke hated to tell her goodbye, but she was always going to be a mother first. He could only esteem her more for this.
And yet he wasn’t ready to relinquish her.
“Will you meet me again tomorrow? At the bridge?”
“Of course.”
“So, this is why my wife is not overjoyed at my return.” The snarl in Gil’s voice cut across the lawn in a startling accusation. Rather than release Naomi’s hands, allowing her to step away guiltily, Luke held her fast and slowly turned to meet Gil’s stare.
They had done nothing wrong.
His old friend, however, seemed to believe differently.
Chapter Twenty-One
Naomi had not imagined the black look she’d seen on Arthur’s face the day before. She had not imagined it because she was looking into it again. It was almost as though the devil himself had stepped inside and taken over the person she’d thought she knew.
“Luke is a friend,” she responded in a calm voice, hoping to diffuse Arthur’s charge. It wasn’t that he was completely wrong. She had lain with Luke last November. But she’d believed Arthur to be dead.
“Luke, is it? Not Major Cockfield? Or even Lord Lucas?” If anything, his face contorted into an even sharper rage.
Luke released only one of her hands and turned both of them to face Arthur, who approached with surprising speed, considering he was leaning heavily on his cane.
“Luke has been kind to both of us,” Naomi insisted.
“You’d do well to watch your words, Gil.” Tension rolled off Luke in waves, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end. She glanced sideways at Luke’s chiseled profile.
This was the man who’d led hundreds of men into battle. This was the man who risked himself to defend the soldiers who relied on him, to defend his country’s interests.
Her fingers tingled from his tightened grip.
“Why should I bother? Because you already know what I’m going to say? Did she fuck you before or after you told her I had been killed?” Luke jerked forward, but Naomi clung to his hand as fear trickled down her spine. It wasn’t that she was afraid of Arthur but she was afraid for him. Was he goading Luke on purpose?
“Don’t do this. You don’t know what you’re saying.” Her voice pleaded with Arthur.
“You’re out of your head, Gil.”
Now that the man she’d once believed herself in love with was closer, she saw it too. His eyes were glassy and rivulets of sweat glistened on his forehead.
“I know precisely what I’m saying. Hell, perhaps that blubbering infant isn’t even mine.” His lip curled, and he narrowed his eyes at her. “How many of us did you lie with last spring, my dearest wife? Only Lucas and me? Or were there others? What about Metcalfe? Or Reynolds? Likely both of them, eh? Did you limit yourself to officers only?”
Naomi choked on a sob at his utterly unfounded accusations. Not because they hurt her but because he would tarnish the only good thing left between them. Last spring had been romantic. It may not have been the great love she’d imagined it to be, but she’d given him her innocence and they’d created Amelia.
Arthur stumbled and when he lost his grip on his cane, would have fallen if she and Luke hadn’t both rushed to his side.
Luke ducked beneath Arthur’s arm on one side and Naomi did so on the other. “You’re burning up. You need to be in bed.”
“I’m going to die, Mimi.” Despite everything, the defeat in his voice cracked her heart in two.
“You aren’t going to die.” It was what one said to a person at such a time. Leaning forward, she caught Luke’s gaze. He was staring at her with that same hopeless expression he’d had when he arrived earlier this week, bringing Arthur back from the dead.
Would Arthur come between them forever?
“My cane,” Arthur mumbled as Naomi and Luke turned to take him back into the house, half-dragging, half-carrying him.
Naomi labored under the weight of him but not because of his size; he could barely lift his feet to walk between them. He was wasting away, and if she was correct, had only worsened since his arrival.
“I’ll send a servant once we have you settled.” She struggled to keep her voice even despite the emotions tearing her up inside.
“Is she mine, Naomi?” Arthur persisted despite his nearly incapacitated state.
“Of course, you fool.”
“But I’m right, aren’t I?” He somehow managed to turn his head to question Luke. “You’re fucking her?”
Naomi hated that word. If she thought for even a moment that Arthur was lucid, she would have walked away, allowing him to fall on the ground and get his own sorry person back to the house.
“Not as long as you’re alive,” Luke answered. “But I love her.”
Tears burned in her eyes.
This time, when she glanced over at Luke, he did not look guilty or hopeless, he looked sincere.
Even Arthur was silenced by Luke’s words.
Apparently, they’d been observed from the manor, for a few maids, and a handful of manservants, along with Lady Tempest, sc
urried outside through the terrace doors. A wheeled chair awaited Arthur on the patio.
Naomi didn’t hesitate when one of the footmen stepped in to take her place supporting Arthur’s weight. Luke refused to relinquish his hold though.
“What happened? Why is he not in his chamber?” Lady Tempest’s hands fluttered in the air.
“Arthur wished to walk in the sunshine, and we were fortunate enough to meet up with Major Cockfield in the garden. He collapsed coming back.” Naomi didn’t want to lie but neither did she want to reveal that she’d spent the morning alone with Luke. He was the man she loved.
Naomi settled an arm around the older woman’s shoulders. For all Lady Tempest’s rigidity, she’d suffered greatly over the past year. First, believing Arthur to be dead, then the joy that he hadn’t perished after all. And now this: watching him slowly die before their very eyes.
“He shouldn’t be out here.” Her voice wobbled.
“He insisted.” Naomi found herself embellishing now. “And you must know how persuasive and stubborn your son can be when he wants something.”
This brought a tremulous smile to the countess’s lips. “True, true.” She tore herself away from Naomi’s arms in order to oversee the servants as they lowered Arthur into the chair. Naomi stepped back and watched until all but she and Luke had disappeared inside.
She was not surprised at his grim expression. He’d taken a vow of sorts just before they’d been beset upon by anxious servants. They would not be walking together tomorrow.
“I think I must depart right away.” His honor dictated this. If he remained at Crescent Park, there was no guarantee that they could, in fact, be just friends with one another.
But he loved her.
“I love you, too. In case you didn’t realize that.” Surely, he knew. But sometimes a person needed to hear the actual words. “And I’ll stay with Arthur until the end. But I won’t stop loving you.”
More than anything, she wanted to feel his arms around her. He was returning to the conflict, and there was always the possibility that he wouldn’t return.
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