Arthur slumped into the chair after Naomi removed the baby from his arms. Such a small thing had tired him. It had been good though, for him to hold her.
“Once I’m well again, we’ll return to Milton Cottage as a family. You’ll see,” But the whites of his eyes appeared even more yellow today. He was weakening.
It wasn’t necessary for her to remind him that they would never be a family.
“You must rest now. Mr. Webbs can assist you back to your chamber.” She crossed the room and tugged at the bell pull.
“Mimi?” His voice had her turning back to meet his gaze.
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry.”
All she could think to do was nod. Forgiveness ought to be easy. Perhaps in time.
She would never love him again. But she had no idea how much longer he was of this earth.
“I am too.”
Chapter Twenty
Naomi couldn’t sleep that night. Luke had promised to visit before he left—to say goodbye.
Four days had passed since she’d seen him.
He wouldn’t break his word—his word mattered to him.
When she rolled onto her side, a tear slid down her face and dropped onto the pillow. She belonged with him. In his bed.
This wasn’t fair. So much wasn’t fair!
Father would think it was fair. As would Walter. They would believe she’d brought all of this onto herself.
She had ached for Luke for months, knowing he’d been in danger and hundreds of miles away, and now that he was here, he might as well be on the other side of the world. She hadn’t been able to hold him or kiss him or even touch him.
Her body craved the satisfaction only he could bring, but she would be just as happy to talk with him. She wanted to tell him all about how Amelia thought she could crawl but then flopped onto her belly. She wanted to tell him about an interesting book she’d found in the Tempest library. She wanted to ask what he was feeling, what he was thinking. He’d been so closed off the other day. She wanted to be with him.
How long could she endure the emptiness of their separation? Could their love survive it?
She lay in bed trying to imagine some scenario where they could be together now. She refused to allow herself to hope for Arthur’s death.
She and Luke could run away together, but that would eliminate any chance for her to reconcile with her sister and her mother. They had loved her for all of her life. Surely, they hadn’t stopped loving her because of one mistake? She hadn’t lost hope.
Running away would also result in Amelia not knowing her grandmother, Lady Tempest. And what of Lucinda and Lydia if she took Luke away?
No. They needed to wait.
After what felt like hardly a few minutes after she finally dozed off, the nurse knocked on her door and brought Amelia in for her breakfast.
Naomi must think of her daughter first. She tucked Amelia beside her and then simply lay watching those precious little cheeks work. When Amelia paused to simply stare up at Naomi, awe reminded her of life and hope. Motherhood was a miracle. Mama and baby stared back at one another in a magical moment of trust and love.
This baby.
Naomi would do whatever she needed to for this precious little life.
When the feeding was over, Nurse returned and whisked Amelia back to the nursery so Naomi could dress and break her own fast.
Downstairs, she drank her coffee and ate her toast alone. Her time here had been peaceful, but in the absence of Lucinda and Lydia’s visits, Naomi found herself feeling lonely.
She had Amelia to keep her occupied, but if she was to remain at Galewick Manor much longer, she needed something else to do. Good heavens, she actually missed the chores she’d done with Ester. She missed discovering new repairs that needed fixing and solving the simplest of problems that arose each day when managing her own household.
Lady Tempest had the management of Galewick well in hand.
Naomi pondered on how she’d entertained herself when she’d lived in her father’s home. She’d assisted her mother. She’d spent time with Theodosia. She’d worked in the garden some, but she’d mostly been… silly.
She supposed she was grown up now.
With her coffee and toast finished, Naomi fetched a floppy bonnet from her chamber and changed out of her slippers into a pair of half-boots. She would seek out the Tempest gardener. Surely, he could suggest some way that she could be useful. She had planted late last year and managed to grow a few useful herbs and vegetables.
And flowers.
She’d planted flowers in between the rows. They seemed frivolous but they had warded off some of the insects that would have otherwise attacked her plants. Just as a person needed beauty in the midst of trial, the useful plants needed the help of flowers.
When she stepped outside, a cool breeze floated over the lawn and had her gown swirling around her ankles.
She could also just walk.
Discarding her initial plan, and without any particular destination, she found herself marching along a path that led to the edge of Tempest land where a rushing creek separated it from Crescent Park. It was partially worn, she knew, as Lucinda and Lydia had admitted to walking over on a few occasions.
What would be the outcome if Naomi kept right on marching, across the bridge and up to the door, demanding to see him?
She had half a mind to do just that, but it was a considerable distance and she’d need to feed Amelia in an hour or so.
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.