When Naomi had first arrived at Galewick Manor, Lady Tempest allotted Naomi one of the guest chambers near the nursery. The countess had confessed that she hadn’t the heart to move Arthur’s effects out of his chamber. Naomi had been grateful for this at the time but was even more so now.
The day following Arthur’s return, Lady Tempest had demanded everyone throw off their blacks and that the black crepe paper be taken down at once.
Whereas before the household had mourned, they now waited anxiously while the prospect of death merely hovered.
Three separate physicians had examined Arthur on different days, all providing a similar prognosis. They would treat the malaria with quinine; his condition would be touch and go, but even if he survived, it would compromise his health for the remainder of his life.
It was not, however, considered to be catching.
No one dared speak of the scabs, although one of the physicians had sent Naomi a warning look. She had nodded in understanding.
Arthur’s fevers would come and go, and that was to be expected. Even so, Naomi was surprised when he made an appearance in the nursery.
She had been feeding Amelia, rocking her and singing to her, the gentle motions soothing Naomi as well as she gazed down at that tiny face, eyes wandering from soft brows to closed eyelids to that little button nose. Her daughter gave her comfort she never would have known.
When she glanced up from watching Amelia’s chubby little cheeks move as her daughter suckled at her breast, Naomi startled to see the door open and Arthur leaning against the frame, watching her.
Instinctively, she covered herself and the baby with a small blanket.
“I was certain we would have a boy,” he commented casually.
He appeared slightly healthier than he had on the day of his arrival, which was to be expected now that he’d begun treatment and had a chance to rest, but his shoulders remained slumped, his breathing slightly labored.
Part of her pitied him, but she was also repulsed, both physically and emotionally. There was a new scab on his cheek, covered with paint.
She could not hate him for the havoc he’d brought into her life, last spring and then after, and now with his return. He’d given her Amelia. For that, she would stand by him.
She could not hate him.
She had lain with him ages ago. She’d given herself to the creature standing before her, and together they’d created a child. She glanced down at the tiny face that was staring up at her with absolute adoration and trust.
“I wouldn’t trade her for anything. She is perfect.”
Naomi would protect this child with her life.
Arthur moved into the room and dropped into one of the wooden chairs beside her. She resisted the urge to cringe away from him. “Are you in much pain?” she asked. His faithlessness now lacked the ability to torment her.
Bridget hadn’t been the only one.
“Pain? What is pain, Mimi?” His expression was oddly reminiscing. “The pain of looking like half a man. The pain of being utterly helpless. I had to stop and rest twice while I was looking for you.” She flicked a glance to the sore on his hand, and he immediately covered it with the other.
“Why did you do it? Why did you need other women? Wasn’t I enough?” This had bothered her ever since her run-in with Bridget.
“I never intended to settle down.” He lifted one shoulder casually. “You were ruined—so I married you. But I didn’t think that would mean I’d have to become a monk.”
Hehad ruined her. He’d planted his seed in her belly. No, they both had done that together. She’d take responsibility for what she’d done.
But the truth was somewhat lowering. When Arthur had said he’d love her forever, declared her to be the loveliest lady of his acquaintance, he’d not been courting her for marriage. It had only been flirtation on his part. Knowing this was painful, but it also helped to relieve some of the guilt she’d felt for falling in love with Luke so quickly after Arthur’s “death.”
“You know I love you though, right, Mimi? And I’ll be better in a while. The fevers come and go. I’ll take you and the babe back to Milton Cottage and we can start over.” He reached across the space between them and dropped his hand on her knee. “Nothing has to change.”
Surely, he didn’t think—Naomi bolted off the chair, clutching Amelia, and then scurried across the room. Her heart was suddenly racing. She could not allow him to believe she’d everbe a wife to him again. She’d lain with him for the last time—before he’d gone away, back when she’d believed what they had was real.
“Are you insane?” she finally managed in a whisper, careful not to upset her daughter. “I’m not fool enough to not know what those lesions are. I would have been loyal to you forever. Do you realize that? Speaking those vowsmeantsomething to me.”
Arthur scoffed. “Men are different, Mimi.”
“Don’t call me that.” It was what he’d called her when she’d thought he loved her. At the time, the shortened version of her name had been special.Hehad made her feel special.
