Authors: Becky Riker
“So you stayed until she was gone?” Nicholas was still trying to put together the pieces.
“She was gone within the week of me financing her travel. I stayed away because I could not bear to look at my beautiful innocent wife when I knew what I had done.”
“She has missed you.”
Finn scoffed at that, “She hates me.”
“I promise you, she does not.”
Finn could only hope that was true. He would hide this sin from her, but she knew enough of his character to find plenty wrong anyway.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Naomi noticed Finn’s silence on the way home. He was likely still angry with her for her disrespectful attitude a month prior. He had seemed to soften in the morning’s carriage ride, and he looked almost like the man from her wedding trip while they were sitting with Tessa and the new baby.
However, upon the ladies’ emergence from the bed chamber, she found him aloof once again. He insisted they leave shortly thereafter.
“I discovered a new path,” she tried to force a conversation. “It will not be new to you, of course,” she realized how silly that sounded.
“What path was that?”
She was relieved he had decided to participate, “It runs north of the large pond and twists through a grove of elm.”
“The path with the black stone bench at the end?”
“Yes,” she almost laughed in her pleasure at holding a conversation with her husband.
“There are some mulberry trees along that path. They have, in the past, been very productive. I will have to show them to you in the spring.”
Naomi bit her lip to stop her smile from spreading, “I would like that very much.”
The journey home was filled with pleasant, albeit trite, conversation. Finn managed to carry the exchange through evening tea.
“Will you play for me this evening?” he led her from the dining room.
“I will,” she hurried him along to the music room. “I have a new Italian piece that I have been working on.”
“Do you practice much?” he asked her as he seated her on the piano stool.
“I do,” she arranged her sheet music. “There are days when I scarcely leave the instrument because I begin playing and do not wish to stop until I have made a particular line better or have put all my feelings into another.”
Finn smiled at her, and she wondered if what she had said amused or pleased him.
She felt a bit uneasy with him watching, and Naomi thought her performance was not as good as it could have been. Finn smiled and declared it to be the loveliest music he had heard in a month.
“You tease me, sir,” she set aside the music.
“I do not,” he argued moving his own chair to sit nearer her.
Naomi could almost feel his presence.
“Might I ask if you would welcome me,” he began slowly and she had time enough to wonder what he spoke of. “Would I be welcome in your room tonight?”
Her heart was surely overflowing. She nodded, not bothering to hide her smile this time.
She awoke the next morning, alone.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Finn went to find his mother. He was going to speak to her whether she wanted to hear it or not. He knew she was probably still sleeping, but then he knew she would be sober.
“Sir,” her somber maid answered the door, “the missus isn’t up yet.”
“That is fine, Liz,” he pushed passed her. “I will wake her.”
“Mother,” he rapped once. “I am coming in.”
Diana was sitting up in bed when he walked through the door, “What is the matter with you?”
“Nothing a little conversation won’t cure,” he crossed the room and threw open the curtains.
She groaned, “I have a headache.”
“I am sure you do,” he stood over her. “Anyone who consumes as much gin as you do, is bound to feel unwell.”
She gasped, “How dare you?”
“I should ask you the same thing.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You have spent the majority of your life in a drunken state because you did not like how your life was going.”
She turned away from him and set her feet on the floor.
“I learned to manage the pain you caused, but you will not treat my wife badly because you have a miserable life.”
She rose and drew her dressing gown around her, “You have no right to speak to me this way.”
“I do,” he argued. “You are living in my house with an allowance that I give you.”
She straightened, “Do not forget I was mistress of this home before you brought in a woman to take over.”
Finn wondered at her nerve to even bring that up, “You were the one who insisted I marry, Mother.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her off with a slash of his hand, “And, before I took over the management of Selby, you were about to sell off more land to pay your debts. You had neglected the land, ignored the needs of the tenants, and left the staff unpaid.”
Her hand came up to slap her son, but he caught her wrist.
“
Five years ago, you were facing ruin, Mother. You had no right to fund your drinking habit and Rowan’s gambling with my inheritance.”
She spun away from him, angry, “You would have him rot in prison, I suppose.”
“I would have him pay for his own mistakes,” Finn did not tell her about his brother’s latest encounter with the law. “I would have him care for his own land. Land he received as his inheritance as I received Selby as mine.”
“You did not need my family’s land as well as your father’s.”
“You are right. I do not need both, but if you are implying that I should give him any portion of my land on the island, you may as well be pleading with the dead. I will not hear you on that matter.”
She sat down, facing away from him. He knew he had to end the conference.
“I married my wife to get your signature and your promise to quit fighting the transfer of that land. I expect you will treat her with civility hereafter.”
“Have I been anything but civil to her?”
“She is the mistress of this home; you are not,” he reminded the woman. “Before I leave, I will ensure that she is aware of the fact. You are also not to discuss my faults with her.”
She turned back to him with a thin smile, “You are protecting yourself.”
“No,” he leaned toward her, “I am protecting her. She does not need the pain of your accusations – especially as your accusations are based on the lies and wild imaginings of a maid.”
He turned to leave then but stopped outside his mother’s bedroom to speak to Liz.
“Be mindful of the fact that my wife is mistress here,” he glared down at her. “You will find yourself in a serious situation should you continue to cross her.”
He strode from the suite with the intention of finding his wife.
She found him.
“I wondered if you had left,” she admitted.
Finn was in no temper to have his wife remind him of his past wrongs, “What does that mean?”
She took a step backward, her eyes wide, “I beg your pardon?”
“You thought I left because that is how I normally treat you?”
She frowned, “I thought you left because I have been searching for the greater part of an hour, and I could not find you.”
Her earnest words went straight to his heart. He should apologize.
“Would you like to join me for breakfast or have you already eaten?” she waved her hand in the general direction of the breakfast room.
He nodded and began walking. For some reason, the words he needed to say would not leave his lips.
She hurried beside him, “Were you visiting with your mother?”
He barked out a laugh and stopped, “Visiting? Whoever visits with that woman? One either listens to her complain or speaks at her without her listening.”
Naomi quirked an eyebrow, “And which was this?”
He offered his arm and continued walking without comment. It seemed she was willing to let his previous rudeness go, so he decided against apologizing.
“I reminded her you were mistress of the house, and she would do well to remember to treat you as such.”
Naomi frowned, “Do you not think that was harsh?”
“Harsh?” he led to the sideboard so she could choose her food.
“To protect you from her bitterness?”
“She was mistress long before I came along,” Naomi’s reminder was quite unnecessary. “Perhaps it would be kinder to leave things as they were.”
“Trust me, my love, she had not been acting as mistress for several years when I brought you home. Mrs. Smythe and Mr. Dillon were fulfilling most of her duties, but it was not their preference to do so.”
Naomi filled her plate and sat down.
Finn watched her as she bowed her head, ostensibly to thank God for her food. He was glad she hadn’t asked him to lead her in it. He would not have known what to say.
“Have you seen much of your family?” he hoped that was a safe topic. His family never was.
“I have,” she took a sip of her water. “My mother and Ruth have been here once or twice a week. My father, of course, never visits, but he did send his regards the last time mama visited.”
“And your brother?” he knew she was closest to
Asa.
“He was here
about three weeks ago, but he has been in Bath since then.”
“In Bath?”
She nodded and cut up her bacon, “My father has some business interests there, and he sent Asa to look into the progress there.”
“Does
Asa enjoy that kind of thing?”
Naomi’s lips curled into her amused smile, “It would not matter if he did not as my father is not one to take no for an answer. However,
Asa does enjoy business. I think, if my parents did not think it beneath him, he would take the bar.”
Finn could not imagine a man willingly doing that, but he did not say that to Naomi.
“My cousin, Mae, also visited last week. She was staying with my parents while my aunt travelled to the continent.”
Finn wondered why he thought his wife would be sitting alone, pining for him.
“Lady Jillian also has come calling on two occasions. Did you know she is an avid horsewoman?”
“Lady Jillian Ashley?” he clarified.
“Yes,” Naomi was fully involved in her topic now. She glanced around as if checking to be sure they were alone. “She rides astride.”
Finn nearly laughed at his wife’s face. She looked so pleased at the idea of the duchess doing something as improper as riding astride.
“She wears a split skirt.”
Finn
spoke up before he could check himself, “How does the duke feel about that?”
Naomi laughed softly, “Apparently, he was the one who commissioned the riding costume so she could ride like that.”
Finn frowned, “Would you like to ride in such a manner?”
Naomi shook her head, “Riding sidesaddle was one aspect of being a lady that my mother did insist upon.
I have not ridden astride since I was nine, and it would feel strange.”
She changed the topic to the flowers that were blooming in the greenhouse, and they finished their meal while discussing that.
“Will you be able to remain home long,” she asked as they walked toward the library.
He felt the old
irritation rising, “Are you that eager to get rid of me?”
She looked up at him, frustration written on her face.
He turned and walked into the library; she followed and closed the door.
“I am not looking forward to your departure, Finn. I was not pleased that you left last time.”
He seated himself on the arm of a chair, “I am so sorry to have displeased you.”
“I missed you,” she spoke openly. “I was hurt
that you left so suddenly, and I was hurt that you stayed away for so long.”
“I had things to do,” he knew she would see it for the lie it was.
“You could have taken me with you. You could have written to tell me you were going to be away longer.”
Her manner was calm, and her tone was reasonable, but Finn still felt attacked.
“I am not your child,” he shot back, “nor your servant. I do not have to check in with you.”
She dropped her eyes to the floor, “This is true.”
“When we first married, I fell under the assumption that you disliked London. Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps you would prefer the constant society, the parties, the theater.”
She looked up at him with an expression he could not discern. She was not long in explaining
it, however.
“
You
seem to prefer that life, Mr. Haydn.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do not think that we are so far removed from London that we do not get news of what you have been doing.”
Finn’
s heart dropped to his stomach.