Authors: Becky Riker
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.
“I’d love to.”
Naomi shook her head to clear the memory, “The scars.”
He scowled down at her, “What?”
“Your father beat you, and you have scars on your back.”
He didn’t answer but sat at the dressing table and began rearranging her various bottles.
She watched the mindless action, “It was not the only time.”
He shook his head.
Naomi went to sit on his knee and stilled his hands with her own hands.
Finn wrapped his arms around her, “I think it was the only time he used a horsewhip, though.”
Naomi felt bile rising in her throat.
He must have felt her shock because he apologized.
“You did not need to know that,” he ran his fingers through her loose curls.
“Why?” she pulled back to look at his face.
His laugh was harsh, “Trying to decide if I deserved it?”
“No human deserves that, Finn,” she frowned at his words.
“I had let his horse out of the pen,” he admitted. “The whip was the closest thing.”
“I’m sorry,” she rose from her position. “I am sorry you had to go through that, that you had no defender in your mother, and that you doubt your ability to be a parent because you had only bad examples, but you can learn from their mistakes.”
“My grandfather beat my father and had numerous affairs. My father was a habitual gambler.”
“But you do not drink like your mother, and you are not a gambler like your father.”
“Rowan is,” he stood up and paced away from her again.
“That is
his
decision, Finn. Claiming your childhood as an excuse for your actions is a cowardly way out of acting responsibly.”
He did not look back at her but folded his arms across his chest.