Luke flattened his palm, amazed at the firmness. “If by elephant, you mean more beautiful, then I’ll agree to that.”
She rolled her eyes, reminding him of the lighthearted young lady he’d met last spring. But then she grew solemn again. “You don’t have to stay here tonight. If anyone were to find out—"
“I’m staying.”
“I know it’s not proper really—”
“Would you prefer to do the cooking, or should I?” He firmly cut off any more protests she might come up with. He’d hated leaving her unprotected before, and that was when she had Ester with her. She was a woman alone. The folks in this area seemed decent enough. As was usually the case.
That was, until it wasn’t.
“Why don’t we cook something together?”
Luke couldn’t help but think that sounded like a damn good idea.
He would wait for her. He would give her the comfort she needed but also the time society demanded. And then they’d make something together.
Chapter Eleven
Naomi read over the words she’d written on the familiar pages of her journal and then closed the book so she could prepare for bed. She’d writtenthat woman’sname beside Arthur’s.
Bridget.
There would come a time when it would cease to have the ability to hurt her. Luke’s companionship was already dulling the stabbing sensation of betrayal.
It weighed as a great disappointment.
She had taken vows with Arthur. She’d given him her promise--to love him, to keep him, to honor him—and even though he hadn’t followed through with his, she’d had every intention of honoring hers.
And she would love their child—her child, regardless of what he’d done.
She drew her night rail out of the wardrobe and groaned. Some of her troubles would not be resolved for possibly years to come, but for now, she faced a far more pressing one. That of undressing herself.
If either of she or Ester had taken a moment to consider such a mundane matter, Naomi could have worn a gown that fastened up the front.
But in Ester’s concern for her niece, and Naomi’s reassurance that she’d be just fine alone, neither of them had considered such a dilemma.
She reached her hands behind her but, after less than a minute of fumbling, her arms already ached. The small stays she wore, along with the fact that her bodice fit more tightly than it had a few months before, would make sleep most uncomfortable.
Footsteps sounding in the corridor reminding her that Luke was here and she could ask him for assistance.
Not that she required reminding of his proximity. She was all too aware…
After cooking a simple stew together, they’d lingered at the table, sharing anecdotes of their childhoods as well as those of their siblings. Luke loved his family most ardently, and she’d admitted to the same. They’d lingered until long after dark, and while Naomi tended to the cleaning up, Luke had gone outside to check on the animals in the barn. He was just now returning.
She ought to feel strange, having him here. She ought to be concerned at how seamlessly he fit into her life.
He was the son of a duke, a major in the British Army. He had his own family. He’d be required to return to the conflict soon. Before that, he was going to want to go home to see his brother and sisters.
She reached over her head and then tried to reach around her back again. It seemed even more impossible on this attempt. Of all the ways she was going to have to become independent, she’d already failed at this.
Gah!
“Luke?” she cried out.
When he didn’t answer, she padded barefoot across the floor and opened her door. At the same time, he opened his from across the hall. Obviously, far more adept at undressing himself, he already wore only his breeches. The sight of smooth, silky-looking skin stretched across his chest and torso reminded her of the day he’d been working on the porch. How they’d flexed beneath his linen shirt when he lifted the hammer and strained when he’d twisted to catch her watching him.
Her breath whooshed out of her lungs, leaving her speechless.
