When first Naomi began to wake up, her brain struggled to make sense that she was not alone. She also inherently realized that she was not cozied up to Arthur. He hadn’t liked that sort of intimacy.
She’d spent the night in Luke’s bed. They’d made love twice and when she’d gone to roll away from him, he’d tucked her into his side.
“Are we going to be lazybones today?” She kept her eyes closed as she murmured the words, her back tucked against his front, a possessive hand cupping her breast.
“Not all of me.” He prodded her from behind, making her gasp and giggle at the same time. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d giggled.
She rolled around to face him, stretching, and he met her with a kiss.
“No regrets?” she asked.
“Hell, no,” Luke growled and nipped at her shoulder. “In fact…” His hand was between her legs, and she required no persuading whatsoever to open to him.
“I could wake up like this every morning.” She regretted the words the second they flew out of her mouth. Was she tempting fate by speaking them aloud?
“Someday.” Luke spoke against her lips at the same time he eased himself inside of her. The stretching fulfilled a craving she doubted would ever go away. Both of them had finally come home. This ultimate sense of completion was new to her.
Being made love to by this man had been an epiphany of surrender. He touched her everywhere, with all of himself. He tasted her, he breathed her in, and he watched her responses, memorizing her preferences. There was no part of her he didn’t own completely.
Twice, that morning, he made love to her.
Twice.
By the time Luke finally climbed out of bed, they’d slept a while longer and the sun was halfway up the sky.
“Now who is the lazybones?” He slapped the flesh of her backside teasingly.
“Mm….” She moaned and buried her head back into the pillow.
“Come on, sweet girl. You need to eat and I need to work on the roof.”
She rolled over and stared up at him. He’d already dressed but his hair was satisfyingly disheveled.
“You never purchased your nails?”
“I’ll run into town. Do you want to come with me?”
She might run into Arthur’s mistress again. Her late husband’s mistress. In such a small village, it was practically a given. But for today, she would rather languish in the aftermath of a passionate night with Luke Cockfield.
She shook her head. “I’ll finish going through Arthur’s papers.”
Luke lowered himself onto the mattress beside her, his gaze searching her face. Unable to discern his thoughts, she wished she knew him better. “What is it?” she asked self-consciously.
He blinked and the corners of his mouth lifted into a tentative smile. “I just… I cannot fathom how lucky I am.”
Naomi pushed herself up, not caring that her breasts were bared or that her hair was in a tangle. “I am the lucky one.” She hovered her mouth at his and then leaned forward for a leisurely kiss.
She didn’t want him to go and yet she was eager to face the day.
A small amount of guilt split her anticipation. It wasn’t’ fair that she should feel happiness so soon.
Luke rose and with a wink, tossed her nightgown onto the bed. “I shouldn’t be long. Did you need anything else? Fabric? Thread?” He flicked a glance over the bed. “Lingerie.”
She blushed and threw a pillow at him. “Be off with you.”
“Make me a list,” he mumbled against her lips.
Forcing herself to be practical, Naomi drew the gown over her head and then wrote out a few necessities for him to purchase. Only after he drove off the property did she begin washing up and making herself presentable in case Ester or any of her relatives stopped in again.
Full of energy, she washed up and donned one of her dyed gowns, chopped vegetables to begin some broth, swept the kitchen, and then made the bed in Luke’s chamber. By the time she entered her own, she realized she’d been procrastinating looking through Arthur’s belongings.
This time, she carried the satchel downstairs to the table in the kitchen and dumped the contents out, spreading everything out on the long table.
The envelopes were in no particular order and her heart squeezed as she began sorting through the multitude of letters and often small scraps of papers. And as she did so, her throat tightened.
Bills, reminders, and vowels.
It wasn’t until she’d nearly finished going through them all that she came across what she was looking for.
She was just unfolding the document when Luke entered through the back door and lowered a large sack of flour onto the floor.
She read through the familiar certificate a second and then a third time. Luke leaned over her, one hand resting on the table as he read it as well.
“Is this going to be a problem?” she finally asked, pointing at the blank space beside her own signature.
“It could be.” His breath whispered near her ear. He exhaled and rose, squeezing her shoulder. “But I won’t allow it to be.”
Naomi glanced at him, puzzled. “How?”
His jaw was set as he rose to his full height. “I need to speak with the local vicar, in confidence. This situation could prove to be delicate.”
Chapter Fourteen
Five days later, having written to Blackheart about the license, and with his remedy for Naomi’s predicament well underway, Luke experienced a small amount of relief, even knowing his time at Milton Cottage was coming to an end. He would ensure she did not need protection even after he returned to the front.
He’d spent his days completing the more pressing repairs to the house, and his nights in Naomi’s arms. How had he ever lived without her?
The fates had been kind to them though, and her maid had stayed away longer than originally expected. Never in his life had he experienced such contentment.
The end of his time here was nearing but he refused to focus on anything but her. Until the day he had to depart, he would lavish his affection on this woman—this soft, determined woman lying beside him—this woman who had captured his heart.
As the orange light of the sun crept into his chamber, he turned his head and soft hair tickled his chin. But that he could wake up every morning to the sweet floral scent of Naomi—tucked against one another like two spoons in a drawer.
“Mm…” The caress of her voice was all the encouragement he needed to slide his hands over her round belly to between her legs.
As soon as he could assure Naomi and her child’s security, he would not be able to delay his departure any longer. The voice of his conscience had become increasingly annoying.
He closed his eyes, dipping his face into her hair, and imagined he heard the distant clomping sound of horses’ hooves approaching.
Being with her was heaven. His hands skimmed over her thighs, intent upon giving in to the demands of his cock. It had had a mind of its own despite a vague awareness of rolling wheels creaking along the gravel drive, heralding the imminent arrival of one or more carriages.
And then, God help him, voices outside had him shooting off the bed and scrambling in search of his trousers.
Because if he wasn’t mistaken, one of the speakers sounded suspiciously familiar. Of course, Blackheart would act most efficiently. He ought to have expected him sooner.
Naomi’s startled eyes would have had him laughing if he’d not been dragging his shirt over his head so that he could tuck it in and fasten his breeches.
Instead, he only took a moment to capture her with one arm before she could locate her night rail.
“Good morning,” he growled against her mouth.
“Luke,” she whispered. “We can’t.” But she didn’t pull away. She just went right on kissing him, sending tiny bursts of joy exploding in his chest. He wasn’t used to this ultimate sense of satisfaction. He’d known carnal pleasure in the past, but only as a means for existing. He’d been mostly inten
t upon surviving.
The pounding on the door, however, had become loud enough to be more than an annoyance. He stole one last taste and then handed over her night rail, which had been caught up along with his trousers, and ran a hand through his hair.
“Who would come so early?” Naomi was still whispering and this time, he couldn’t bite back his grin as he reluctantly crossed barefoot to the door.
“I have my suspicions. Nothing for you to worry about. Don’t come down until you’re ready. And don’t worry,” he reminded her as he slipped out of the hallway and downstairs.
When he finally unbolted and then opened the door, the face on the opposite side was a familiar one. Because by now he easily recognized the sounds of Blackheart’s carriage from halfway across England. It was as though his brother instilled his own brand of arrogance into everything that existed in his domain.
Standing tall and straight, Blackheart appeared languid even while he waited impatiently on Naomi’s recently refurbished porch. Another uncanny ability of his.
“Lucas.” It wasn’t really a question, nor was it a friendly greeting. Perfectly put together—from the top of his tall black hat to the toes of his hessians—Luke’s brother raised one lofty brow and then lifted the eyepiece that had once belonged to their father to scrutinize Luke’s person. “I hope we aren’t interrupting anything.”
Oh, hell, Blackheart wasn’t alone. Two sets of eyes, the identical color of his own, peeked around his imposing figure to smile up at Luke.
He winked at Lucy. Or was that Lydia? Hell, he’d been away too long.
“Did you travel all the way from Crescent Park this morning?” Luke met his older brother’s gaze.
“Of course not, silly,” Lucinda chided. Definitely Lucy. “We slept at the posting inn last night.”
“We expected you would be there as well,” Lydia added helpfully.
Blackheart merely raised his other brow. Of Luke and his three siblings, their father’s heir had been the only one to inherit his almost black eyes. Came in handy for a duke, Luke figured. He couldn’t begin to count how many subordinates Blackheart had put in their place without having to say a single word.
Just as the blighter was attempting to do with Luke in that moment.
Luke merely grinned at his brother.
Because over the years, he had come to be mostly immune to such ducal tactics. Besides, too much time had passed since he’d seen them.
Black’s eyes might have almost twinkled, but he didn’t quite grin back.
Luke, however, had no such inhibitions, and when he opened his arms, both his sisters flew into them. He squeezed one with each arm and then kissed the tops of their perfectly coiffured heads. They were petite like their mother had been but they were definitely no longer little girls.
They were young women now.
“You were supposed to come directly to Crescent Park.” Lucy accused. She was the least reserved of the two.
“Why would I do that when you are perfectly content to come to me?” Following one more item of business, he would likely be shipping out directly again. Luke met Blackheart’s gaze over their sisters’ heads. Blackheart nodded.
“We missed you.” Lydia squeezed him tightly.
Even if Blackheart’s stare hadn’t shifted, Luke would have known Naomi had arrived behind him. Never before had he been so aware of another person. He affectionately unfolded his sister’s from around him and turned around.
In such a short amount of time, she’d tied her silken mane into a neat knot at the back of her neck and donned the same black gown that she’d worn the day before.
To an undiscerning eye, she appeared a proper grieving widow.
But Blackheart would notice that the muslin was wrinkled and that it hadn’t been completely fastened in the back. His brother likely wouldn’t miss the reddened skin along the side of her neck left by Luke’s unshaven whiskers.
Luke had intended to leave similar evidence between her legs that morning.
Although he had missed his family something fierce, they sure as hell could have arrived at a more convenient time.
“Naomi.” Luke took her hand. “This is my brother, the Duke of Blackheart. Black, may I present to you Mrs. Naomi Gilcrest, Gil’s… wife—Gil’s widow,” he corrected himself.
“My condolences, Mrs. Gilcrest.” Blackheart bowed over her hand. “Your husband will be missed. He was a longtime acquaintance of our family.”
Luke appreciated that Blackheart acted with the utmost discretion in all things—more so in this moment than any time before.
“And my sisters: Ladies Lucinda and Lydia.”
His sisters curtsied prettily, as did Naomi.
Luke couldn’t help but watch her approvingly. Even in this late stage of her confinement, she was graceful and poised.
When the time came, he would claim her as his own.
“Won’t you come in? I’m afraid my maid is away temporarily, but I’ve put some water on..." She trailed off, apparently realizing what she’d just revealed.
“That would be most appreciated. Perhaps my sisters could provide their assistance while I speak privately with my brother?”
Naomi looked surprised but hid it quickly enough with a welcoming smile toward the girls. “But of course.” She sent Luke an anxious glance and then backed up, gesturing for his sisters to enter. “The kitchen is this way.”
“And Cromwell!” Lydia gestured toward the carriage where their governess, a very proper looking spinster, watched.
“But of course. She must come in as well.” Naomi waved and then hugged her arms through a shiver. “Winter will be here soon enough, won’t it?”
After his sisters’ companion joined them and the women disappeared to the back of the house, Luke led Blackheart into the parlor, wishing he’d taken an additional thirty seconds to at least don his boots.
His brother dropped onto the single chair, leaving the settee for Luke. Which, of course, had him sitting lower. Luke wondered if Blackheart did this intentionally, and then immediately decided that of course, he had.
As if he hadn’t already caught him at sixes and sevens.
“This isn’t—”
Black held up a hand. “Spare me the details. I know the kind of man you are, so no explanations are necessary.”
It was a compliment. Luke sat up straight. “I appreciate that.” Later that evening, he would divulge some of what he’d learned about their childhood friend Gil. Of all the people Luke cared for, Blackheart was the last one he’d want to think poorly of Naomi.
“Did you have any trouble?”
“Of course not.” Blackheart sent him a look of disgust. “But you and Mrs. Gilcrest will want to settle the matter tonight. And you’ll reclaim your room in the inn tonight. I spoke with Tempest the day before I received your correspondence. Although he and the countess are somewhat skeptical of Mrs. Gilcrest, he assured me that they would collect her shortly. Gil’s mother is distraught, as I’m sure you can imagine. She is determined her grandchild be raised at Galewick Manor.”
This was precisely what Luke had initially thought would be best for her. Despite Gil’s nefarious behavior, Gil’s mother would be Naomi’s child’s grandmother, and his brother would be the child’s uncle.
“And what of their sentiments toward Naomi?”
“As the child’s mother, she’ll have Tempest’s protection as well. They hold no ill will.”
But Luke.” He lowered his chin. “They’re on their way here now.”
Oh hell. His brother’s arrival was just in the nick of time.
“I have the license.” Blackheart held up a folded document. And then withdrew a second one. “And this arrived at Crescent Park three days ago.” He handed both to Luke. The second was, of course, the order for his deployment.
Luke broke the seal and skimmed the details. “I’m to report immediately.” He was to attempt the same mission he’d failed at six weeks prior.
“I a
ssumed as much. It’s why I brought the girls along. They were upset that you failed to make visiting Crescent Park a priority.”
Luke hated that he felt guilty for that. Ever since their parents’ deaths, Luke had done his best to be a part of their lives whenever possible. “I am glad you brought them.”
Blackheart’s eyes asked questions Luke wasn’t sure how to answer. But they also held sympathy and a hint of worry. “You are certain this is the answer?”
Luke merely nodded and his brother changed the subject.
“I read the report of the ambush. Somethings not right there. How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine.” He didn’t want to relive the details of the ambush this morning, nor was this the time to inform Blackheart of his intention to sell out. The women would return to the parlor any moment and he couldn’t be certain of his brother’s reaction.
“You will ensure they treat her properly until I return?” he asked instead. “Her own parents refuse to have anything to do with her.”
Blackheart watched him with unblinking eyes. “It’s best that she observe proper mourning. You can court her properly then.”
Luke ran a hand through his hair, which no doubt was already standing on end from his mad dash out of bed.
“I’ll assure she and the child are content,” Blackheart reassured him.
The trouble was that Luke didn’t simply want her well-treated, he wanted her to be cared for and coddled, preferably by himself.
Chapter Fifteen
Naomi ought to have at least checked outside the window and she would have realized that her visitors were not any of her neighbors or even one of Ester’s family members coming with a message. Then, at the very least, she might have taken the additional five minutes required to locate her dress that fastened up the front and come to the door fully clothed.
But she had also known a tinge of worry that it was someone from her own family—that something had happened to her mother or her father, or that either Theodosia or Walter had fallen ill and one of them was coming for her. Or perhaps her father had changed his mind.
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