by Riker, Becky
Dillon’s brow furrowed, “I have not seen her since this morning as she was on her way to the breakfast room.”
Finn wagged a finger in the man’s face, “That is to say that you know where she is, but you are disinclined to give me that information.”
Dillon’s face paled slightly.
“Never mind,” Finn turned. “I will find her without your assistance.”
He peeked into the kitchen to greet Mrs. Hollingberry and to ask her if she knew where his wife was. He was surprised to see Liz there.
Both ladies rose and curtseyed.
“I am in search of Mrs. Haydn,” he informed them.
Mrs. Hollingberry looked down at onion she was chopping.
Liz wore a pained expression.
He stepped more fully into the room, “Do you know where she is?”
Mrs. Hollingberry looked up, “Mrs. Haydn?”
He nodded, a fear beginning to grip his heart. What if something had happened to Naomi while he was away?
“Your mother?” Liz’s voice squeaked.
“No,” his heart pounded faster. “My wife.”
Mrs. Hollingberry let out a nervous giggle, “She isn’t in here.”
He narrowed his eyes, “Clearly.”
She spoke up again, “And I’ve been in here all morning,” she claimed. “Excepting to talk to the mistress this morning.”
“And she was well then?” he pressed.
“Oh, yes,” the lady bobbed her head furiously. “Young Mrs. Haydn is always well. She has such a glow about her. Well, not maybe the time she fell in a faint out by the lake, but then she hadn’t eaten and sh – ”
“What?!” he thundered as he closed the gap between him and the cook and leaned in to press his palms down on the work table she was using.
Mrs. Hollingberry tipped away from him, “She always looks well.”
He glared at the maid, “Why aren’t you up with my mother?”
She rose to her feet, upsetting the chair she had been using, and scurried from the room.
Finn never looked away from the cook.
“My wife collapsed?”
The cook mopped her brow with the edge of her apron, “She was right as rain after.”
He took a deep shuddering breath and spoke slowly, “Where is my wife, Mrs. Hollingberry?”
The cook appeared to be thinking the question through. Finn’s patience was nearing the end.
“She’s up in your mother’s suite.”
Finn was so startled at the answer, he stepped backward, “My mother?”
Mrs. Hollingberry nodded her head, “She’s been up there since just after breakfast.”
He could see there was something going on, but he hadn’t the fortitude to drag it out of the woman before him. He spun on his heel. Finn normally tried to act the part of the master of the home, but he did not even bother. He ran the full distance to his mother’s door.
Naomi was exiting the suite as he arrived.
“Good heavens, Finn,” she grasped his hands, “whatever is wrong?”
He felt a bit short of breath from the sprint up the stairs, but seeing her would have knocked the wind out of him anyway. Her hair was in disarray, she had scratches up and down her arms, and it appeared her lip was swollen.
“I might ask you the same thing.”
She touched her lip, a guilty expression crossing her face.
He gripped her elbow so he could better see the injuries on her skin.
She pulled away, “When did you arrive home?”
Finn reached behind her and opened the door to his mother’s sitting room.
“Mother?” he called out, pulling his wife in behind him.
Liza stepped out of the bedroom, “Mrs. Haydn is sleeping right now, sir. Perhaps you would care to come back later.”
He dropped his grip on Naomi’s wrist and pointed to a chair, “We will wait.”
Naomi chose to sit on the divan instead of the chair he indicated. He was not sure if it was intentional, but he took advantage of it, nonetheless, and sat beside her.
“Are you in pain?” he whispered.
She shook her head, “No. It hurt initially, but time has made it less.”
“What happened?”
Naomi gripped his hands, “Finn, please promise me you will think through your actions before you do anything.”
He did not like where this was going, and he felt like she was treating him as she would a child.
“Just tell me.”
She sighed, “Your mother caught me off guard and hit me with a candlestick.”
Finn had not been expecting that. He was sure his gaping jaw and wide eyes communicated that to his wife.
“I am sorry, Finn,” she reached for his hand. “I think I should explain.”
He nodded.
“We took away your mother’s alcohol.”
He was sure he had not heard her correctly.
“Yes,” she nodded, answering his unasked question. “We did. She has not had any alcohol in five days. It has made her. . .” Naomi searched for a word.
“A raving lunatic?” he supplied, horrified at the thought.
She shook her head, “The doctor says her behavior is temporary. He prepared me for it before we began the process.”
He shook his head, “I have tried this before, but someone always supplies her with more.”
“I promised to let go anyone who brought her alcohol,” she breathed in as if to fortify herself. “We removed all strong drink from the house.”
Finn leaned back into the seat, stunned.
“She did not sleep last night,” Naomi continued, “and it was not until just before Liz returned that she finally dropped.”
“Dropped?”
Nomi sighed, “She had been standing beside the bed for hours, tearing at her sheets. She lowered herself to her knees about an hour ago and then fell asleep with her head against the bed post.”
Finn jerked upright, “She is still like that?”
Naomi put a hand to his arm, “I beg you not to disturb her. Liz needs more rest.”
“She seemed to be resting just fine when I saw her in the kitchen.”
“She was getting something to eat, Finn. I am sure she was unable to sleep last night.”
Finn looked at the woman next to him, lifting her arm, “What happened here?”
“You mother tried to leave the room,” she barely glanced down at the scratches before returning her gaze to his face.
“And this would be a bad thing?”
“She was not . . .appropriately attired.”
He thought he was done being shocked, but this was almost too much to comprehend.
Naomi reached up and ran a hand over Finn’s head, “How were the roads?”
He was almost unable to make the topic change with her. His brain stuttered a moment before he could answer.
“Much better than the last time,” he leaned into her touch.
“Would you care to lie down for a while? You look tired.”
He turned to look at her, “Why are you doing this?”
She dropped her hand immediately.
“No,” he grabbed her hand and brought it back to his lips.
“Why are you taking care of my mother, why are you even bothering with her?”
She nodded, “I think she was killing herself with the drink.”
He frowned at her, “Why should you care? She has been nothing but cruel to you since you met her.”
“She is your mother, Finn. I care.”
That hit him in the gut, but he wasn’t finished, “Why take care of her yourself?”
“I have only been there with her while Liz rests. Liz has done most of her care.”
“You could have another maid do this.”
“I did not feel it was fair to the maid or to your mother. When Mrs. Haydn recovers from this, she will be grateful that we involved as few people as possible.”
He knew this was true
, but he could still not grasp what was motivating his wife.
“I knew I had to help her before the baby arrived.”
The baby! Finn had forgotten about the baby.
“I will not have time after the baby comes, and I did not want our child to grow up – ”
“Naomi,” he cut rather sharply into what she was saying, “you should not be caring for her while you are with child.”
She blinked up at him.
He stood and pulled her with him, “It is not safe. I cannot believe you would be so careless about our child.”
Naomi followed along willingly until they reached the door of the suite.
“I must tell Liz we are leaving.”
“I will tell her,” he turned toward the bedroom.
“You should not,” she called at his back. “I do not believe your mother is,” she paused.
He looked back at her, “Appropriately attired?”
She nodded and went to knock on the door to the bedchamber.
She spoke softly to Liz and then joined him in leaving his mother’s rooms.
“I was not being careless, Finn,” there was a touch of irritation in her voice. “Today was the only day she has behaved violently toward me.”
“She’s a drunk, Naomi,” he felt ill, thinking about what could have happened. “She is unpredictable.”
She was silent.
He stopped walking and looked down at her, “Promise me you will not go in there again.”
She lifted her chin.
“At least until I have determined the worst is over.”
Naomi took a deep breath and nodded. He could see it was a big concession for her.
He wanted to thank her, to tell her he was relieved she was not hurt, but he could not form the words.
“You had better see Mrs. Hollingberry about your injuries. I must speak with my steward.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Naomi watched her husband walk away. She was disappointed that he had not been concerned for her sake but only the baby’s. Still, that was an improvement from the reaction she expected of him.
“Land sakes, child,” the cook dropped her knife and came to inspect Naomi’s wounds, “what happened to you?”
Naomi shook her head, and Mrs. Hollingberry asked no more.
She went to find Finn once her wounds were cleaned and her hair was restored to a semblance of order.
“Are you busy?” she asked as she entered the study.
He offered a small smile, “Not at all. Please come in.”
Naomi seated herself on a chair.
“You look better.”
She shifted, unable to dispel her nervousness, “Thank you.”
“Is something amiss?”
She shook her head, trying to decide if he would be more bothered by her lie or the truth.
He did not look like he believed her.
“Truly,” she forced a smile. “I just find myself at a loss for conversation.”
His grin broadened, “Perhaps, it is not conversation that we need.”
Finn pulled her to her feet and into his arms. Naomi felt a surge of panic as he lowered his lips to her.
He noticed, “What is it?”
“Please,” she begged, knowing he was not going to understand, knowing he was going to reject her as soon as the words were out. “Please, not in here.”
“Not in here?” he was truly confused.
“Not,” she swallowed her tears, “not where she was.”
Finn’s eyes widened. She saw the regret, the sorrow, and, finally, the anger register in them.
“You cannot forgive me.”
Her heart ached, “I am trying, Finn. I just have moments, memories. . .”
“And how long will I be forced to deal with these problems of yours?”
She could not believe he was implying she had brought these problems on herself. She opened her mouth to speak, but remembered what Tessa had told her on their last visit.
“I know my brother, Naomi. He is going to try to make you mad. It is not wrong to become angry, but do not say something that will drive a wedge between you.”
Naomi swallowed the bitter words she wanted to say.
It took her a moment to form a new thought, “I am sorry, Finn. I think you know that I love you. I think you also know I am trying to forgive, but it is not easy.”
Finn looked shocked at her words.
She took his hand, “Would you like me to play my new song for you?”
His face softened just a bit, “You got the music I sent?”
She nodded and smiled.
Naomi could see her husband relaxing as he listened to her play. As her fingers danced over the keys, she prayed that his heart would not harden against her for what she had said. She prayed he would stay at the house long enough for them to form a relationship.
Finn looked up when she finished the piece, “That was beautiful, my love. You must have spent most of your waking hours practicing as you could not have been in possession of it for more than a week.”
“I have spent a good deal of time at the piano,” she pulled out another piece of music, “but this song was not as difficult as it sounds. There is so much repetition, especially in the left hand, that I had only to perfect one section to be master of four.”
“What is that?” he pointed to the pages she had set up.
“This is the one that Tessa gave me two days ago. She said she had never heard it, but it looked so complex she wanted to see if I could play it.”
He laughed, “She is rather impertinent, isn’t she?”
Naomi played the first note, “The joke will be on her when she hears I am able to play the entire thing.”
He quirked his head, “You can already play it?”
“No,” she whispered, “but if you sit there and listen to me practice, I can send her a note saying I played it for you today.”
Finn erupted in laughter.
“Of course,” she pursed her lips, “it will cause problems if she comes to visit me before I have really and truly learned it.”
He laughed again, “I suppose I should leave you to practice in earnest then.”
“Oh, no,” she half-rose from her position, “do not leave just yet.”
“I am afraid I must,” he kissed her temple. “Toulson could not meet with me earlier, so I must go now.”
Naomi wrinkled her nose, but she knew Finn must see his steward. They could not conduct all business via letters, and there was no telling how long Finn would be home this time.
Naomi played the song a few times, but her heart was not in it. She was relieved to discover it was nearly time for evening tea. Having skipped dinner, she was well-ready for it.
She rose and went in search of her husband. The door to his study was firmly closed, and she did not want to bother him if he was still meeting with Mr. Toulson. She turned toward the kitchen to find the butler instead. He was in there with the housekeeper and cook.
“Do you know if Mr. Toulson has left yet?”
“I do not believe so, madam. The master said they expected to be in conference for the greater part of two hours.”
Naomi sighed, “Thank you.”
Mrs. Hollingberry spoke up, “Will you take your tea in the parlor or in your sitting room?”
“I believe I will wait for Mr. Haydn to finish.”
“Beggin’ your pardon,” Mrs. Smythe interrupted, “but the master has requested his be brought to the study.”
Naomi was hurt, but she tried to hide it. She was apparently not very successful.
“I am sorry, madam.”
Naomi shook off the gloom, “Thank you. I will take it in my sitting room, I believe.”
She fell asleep in her chair waiting for him, but awoke in the morning in her bed. Finn was asleep beside her. She smiled and went back to sleep. When she awoke, he was gone.
“This is getting old,” she muttered to herself as she climbed from bed.
“Talking to yourself, my love?” Finn walked through the door, fully dressed.
She blinked, “How do you manage to get up without my notice?”
“You would be better off asking how I got you into bed without your notice,” he sat on the edge of the bed.
She yawned, “I wonder if I will become a lighter sleeper when the baby comes.”
Finn grew serious quite suddenly.
She rested her hand on his arm, “Does it bother you that I am with child?”
He shook his head.
“I am afraid I cannot believe you, husband.”
He dropped his chin to his chest, “I am ashamed of myself, Naomi.”
Her heart nearly broke at his defeated tone. She wanted to say something to comfort him, but he spoke first.
“I am not the kind of father this babe needs. How could I be? My own father was a despicable man who flaunted his mistresses in front of his wife and children. He gambled away the lands and fortune given him by his own father, and he treated my mother as if. . .”
Naomi wondered exactly what the relationship was between the former master and mistress of Selby.
Finn looked at his wife, “She loved him, and he was cruel. I could never understand how she could still love him when he was so cruel, but she defended his actions.”
Naomi pulled his face to hers, “You are not your father, Finn.”
“I could be,” he pushed her away from himself and rose. “I have treated you terribly. Do you defend me now?”
She wondered if that was how he saw her.
“If I beat our sons until they could not walk, would you defend me to them? Would you tell them I couldn’t help it?”
Her mind raced back to their time on the Isle. Finn had just bathed and was standing at his dressing table with no shirt.
“What on earth happened to your back, Finn?”
He spun toward her, “I beg your pardon?”
Naomi turned him back around and traced the scars.
He allowed the touch for a few moments, “It was from my childhood. Very old.”
She pressed a kiss to his shoulder, “What happened?”
He shrugged and turned around to put his arms around her, “Would you like to go see the castle today?”
She was not really distracted by the tactic, but she knew she was not going to pull more from him.
