Arthur, what did you do? Why?
She’d loved him, and she thought he’d loved her. She’d torn apart her life for him and for the family that they were supposed to build together—and it had been worth it, was still worth it, for the life that was growing inside of her, but that sacrifice… it wasn’t insignificant. And now, with his death still aching like a rotting wound in her heart, she had this to contend with.
What would she have done without Luke? His calm and steady presence had given her just enough strength to walk away from that woman with her dignity intact.
How had she been so naïve? She had been waiting for him to come home to her, and he’d been in another woman’s bed! She covered her mouth, willing herself not to be sick.
Had Arthur loved her at all? Her blood turned cold and she exhaled a shaky breath. He’d married her because he hadn’t any choice.
The smallest seed of optimism suggested that the woman had been lying, but just as quickly as it sprouted, Naomi squashed it.
The woman had been telling the truth. She’d known too much. Naomi had only seen what she wanted to see.
She wiped her arm across her eyes and sniffed. She’d cried buckets of tears for him already—rivers—and had given him the benefit of the doubt on so many occasions—too many occasions.
Weary from it all, she attempted to push the betrayal aside and peered into the small dressing room that adjoined her chamber. Arthur had left a few belongings at home—items that had seemed oddly insignificant at the time. Coats, shirts, a pair of boots, and a folded pair of breeches in the far corner. A well-made but smallish trunk had been pushed snugly against the wall.
As she pushed the boots to the side, she couldn’t help wondering if Arthur had kept similar items inthat woman’sroom.
She ached from thinking about all of it. She was tired of being sad, and now confused, and angry. It was exhausting.
A nudging kick from inside startled her out of the morose miasma her thoughts had become, and Naomi touched a hand to her belly. There was another little thump, almost as if in response to the contact. It was the strangest feeling.
Her baby was already so strong.
This tiny human growing inside of her was her purpose now. Naomi’s resolve, which had begun to falter, strengthened at the reminder.
Naomi dragged a small stool into the dressing room and sat down in front of the trunk. Luke had assured her she didn’t need to find the paperwork today. He’d suggested she rest, read a book, take a short walk.
Break a few dishes.
He’d stared at her hard and then put water on the stove to make tea for both of them.
No one had ever worried about her the way he did, as though he was more in tune with her feelings than he was with even his own.
Trepidation cautioned her as she stared at Arthur’s trunk. Would she find other secrets he had been hiding? Discover other betrayals? She swallowed hard. If they existed and if there was proof, she’d rather discover them now.
She’d rather learn of them on her own accord. Not by running into yet another woman with horrid accusations.
She’d been living in the dark, but no more.
The chest wasn’t locked and the latch snapped open easily. As a youth, had Arthur packed this same trunk to take with him to school? She pinched her lips together and dismissed the image. Such were thoughts a grieving woman might have for a husband who had loved her.
Had he loved her at all? He could not have!
She reached inside and braced herself.
A bottle, half full of some sort of liquor. She uncorked it. Rum. Nothing surprising in that. She sealed the bottle and set it to the side.
A tin of tooth powder, soap, and a brush. For an instant, it was almost as though he had stepped into the room with her, the scent was so familiar.
Stinging tears threatened the backs of her eyes but it was easier to blink them away this time.
After removing a few books, one of which had illustrations that made her raise her brows, she came across a worn leather satchel.
She hadn’t paid close attention to the administrative details of their marriage at the time, but she did remember signing a certificate. And since he hadn’t bothered notifying the WarOffice, and it hadn’t been with his other belongings, she hoped he’d at least had the courtesy of leaving it here where she could find it.
Opening the satchel, the scent that had grown familiar to her this summer nearly overwhelmed her. She lifted the leather to her nose and sniffed. It didn’t have the same effect it had before. Was she already falling out of love with him?
