“I was taken prisoner.”
“The others?” Did this mean that none of the men had been killed as a result of the ambush?
“Burned alive.”
She stumbled at the words. Luke had never told her exactly what had happened. It was so very like him. He’d done what he could to protect her from thinking Arthur had…
“But they spared you.” It came out both a question and an observation.
“In light of your lukewarm welcome, I could almost believe you are disappointed by this,” he said as though she’d made an accusation.
“That’s not what I said.” She inhaled a breath, not wanting to provoke him just now. Not today, with his family nearby and him struggling to remain upright. “Of course, I am not disappointed. You are a father now. You have a daughter.”
She did not remind him that he had a wife. What wife wouldn’t be thrilled at the return of a husband she’d presumed dead? And it wasn’t that she was disappointed. She’d never wished him dead.
But…
Luke had arrived at the entrance ahead of them and waited, holding the door wide.
For her and Gil.
“If it wasn’t for Luke, I’d likely be dead in that hut. These past months have been a living hell.”
Naomi finally was able to lock her gaze with Luke’s. He’d had far more time adjust to Arthur’s return from the dead. He lifted one corner of his mouth ruefully. He seemed resigned and sad.
The panic she’d felt before was nearly full-blown now. She needed to speak with him alone. She needed to find out what happened. She could not go on with Arthur as her husband. He’d lied. He’d cheated.
She loved Luke.
Naomi accustomed her vision to the darkness of the parlor while Mr. Webbs stepped forward to assist Arthur to the nearest settee.
“You should be in bed.” Lady Tempest was seated already, wringing her hands in her lap.
“I’ll have time enough for that.” His hands had felt cold to the touch, and yet beads of perspiration dappled his brow and just above his lips.
Naomi had so many questions. Arthur might have returned alive but he was not well.
“Take care, Gil.” Luke grimaced in Arthur’s direction as he edged toward the door. “If you’ll excuse me. My lady, Tempest, Na—Mrs. Gilcrest. I’ll leave the four of you to… catch up.”
“I’ll see you out.” Naomi knew it wasn’t proper, but the realization that it would be even less acceptable to visit him at Crescent Park spurred her across the room. She couldn’t wait even a day to be alone with him—to touch him.
Lady Tempest hardly seemed to notice, all of her concern directed toward her son, but Tempest sent Naomi an enigmatic glance as she walked stiffly across the room. Undeterred, she slowed her pace, slipped out of the room, and closed the door behind her.
She would have thrown herself into Luke’s arms if he hadn’t put a hand up and stepped backward.
* * *
Of course, she had followed him out of the room.Of course.
Luke’s heart filled but then just as quickly squeezed tight. He wanted more than anything to hold her, to inhale the sweet fragrance of her hair. But if he did that, he’d never be able to let go.
And he had no choice. What they’d done… If all was as it ought to be, it would have been unforgivable. The issues with the license might have alleviated some of his guilt but this wasn’t just about Naomi, and him, or even Arthur. A child was concerned.
Amelia needed to be protected from all of this.
Summoning his self-control, Luck straightened his shoulders. “Naomi.” He almost choked on her name. He’d anticipated this moment for months. Damn Gil for being alive. Especially after…
Guilt arose and he chastised himself for entertaining such thoughts. Because there was no need for anyone to ever damn Gil to hell again. His oldest friend was already there and would become acquainted with the devil himself all too soon.
