“And the rest is history.” Luke smiled grimly.
She remained unmoving on the bench, looking stunned but not angry or disgusted.
“You should fetch your wrap.” Having made something of a fool of himself, Luke rose and then reached down to help her stand since doing so was sometimes awkward for her. He hated to see her struggle even a little.
But then he quickly dropped her hand and stepped back. Best to end this conversation before he poured any more of his heart out to her.
“I’ll bring the cart and horses around shortly.”
He shouldn’t have told her.
Chapter Seven
Naomi climbed the stairs to her chamber, her mind caught up in a whirlwind of sensations. This was the first time Luke had told her anything about himself, and she was warmed that he had. No doubt, Luke Cockfield was the most compassionate person she’d ever known. Of course, she’d never experienced battle. She couldn’t begin to comprehend the violence or the ensuing devastation. But she’d overheard stories told by a few of her uncles who had fought at Waterloo.
Gruesome, harrowing stories.
And this man, the second son of one of England’s most enigmatic dukes, possessed a heart of gold. He did not require awards or medals to prove it. He’d exhibited his exceptional character from the moment he climbed off his horse to give her word of Arthur’s death in person.
He hadn’t been required to deliver such news in person. Most widows were only afforded a brief letter; some discovered the loss of their loved one by reading it in theGazette.
Drawing the edges of her shawl around her shoulders, she stared into the small looking glass over her vanity.
Upon reflection, she had recognized his goodness last spring.
Had she deliberately blinded herself to Arthur’s failings? The question was an awful one and it made her feel disloyal and guilty.
Was she allowed to be angry with her dead husband? How could he have been so irresponsible that he would forget to inform the proper office that he had a wife? He’d promised her he would do it first thing. He’d promised her she’d not have to worry over finances.
He’d promised he would fix the damn porch. And the trim! And the roof!
But this.
This oversight was unconscionable.
Even dead, he was breaking promises he’d made to her.
She hated that she wanted to yell at him, that he couldn’t answer to her or defend himself. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair! What would she have done if Luke had never come?
She would have sat around waiting until she had no money for food or to pay Ester. Would she have been forced to go begging to his family? Or to grovel to her own, pleading for forgiveness?
She brushed away some stray hairs that had escaped the knot she’d tied at the back of her head earlier, met her own gaze, and pondered Luke’s second admission.
He wanted to court me.
She had been attracted to the very young major and she certainly hadn’t been the only lady. Naomi remembered experiencing an almost giddy feeling when she’d danced with him.
It had been a waltz.
And later that week, she’d been flattered when he’d offered to row her around the small pond behind Lady Chamberlayne’s elegant mansion.
Luke wanted to court me.
She’d had no idea. So many fresh debutantes had vied for his attentions. Ladies younger than her—prettier than her.
What if she had known?
Should she tell him that Arthur hadn’t asked to court her until the morningafterthe garden party? Her eye twitched. With each passing day, Arthur’s failings were becoming more apparent.
