Naomi didn’t hesitate when one of the footmen stepped in to take her place supporting Arthur’s weight. Luke refused to relinquish his hold, though.
“What happened? Why is he not in his chamber?” Lady Tempest’s hands fluttered in the air.
“Arthur wished to walk in the sunshine, and we were fortunate enough to meet up with Major Cockfield in the garden. He collapsed while we were on our way back.” Naomi didn’t want to lie but neither did she want to reveal that she’d spent the morning alone with Luke. He was the man she loved, but where reputation and thetonwere concerned, that mattered little.
Naomi settled an arm around the older woman’s shoulders. For all Lady Tempest’s rigidity, she’d suffered greatly over the past year. First, believing Arthur to be dead, then the joy that he hadn’t perished after all. And now this: watching him slowly die before their very eyes.
“He shouldn’t be out here.” Her voice wobbled.
“He insisted.” Naomi found herself embellishing now. “And you must know how persuasive and stubborn your son can be when he wants something.”
This brought a tremulous smile to the countess’s lips. “True, true.” She tore herself away from Naomi’s arms in order to oversee the servants as they lowered Arthur into the chair. Naomi stepped back and watched until all but she and Luke had disappeared inside.
She was not surprised at his grim expression. He’d taken a vow of sorts just before they’d been beset upon by anxious servants. They would not be walking together tomorrow.
“I think… I ought to depart right away.” His honor dictated this, she knew. If he remained at Crescent Park, there was noguarantee that they could, in fact, be “just friends” with one another.
But he loved her.
“I love you, too. In case you didn’t realize that.” Surely, he knew. But sometimes a person needed to hear the actual words. “I’ll stay with Arthur until the end, but I won’t stop loving you.”
More than anything, she wanted to feel his arms around her. He was returning to the conflict, and there was always the possibility that he wouldn’t return.
“You are the best part of me.” Several feet separated them, but Luke’s words washed over her like a soothing balm. “Where there is love, there is hope.”
She nodded.
He stepped forward just then, took one of her hands, and bowed formally.
He pressed his lips to the back of her hand and simply held them there, far longer than could ever be considered appropriate, while Naomi stared down at the back of his head.
She allowed herself to run her fingers through the thick sandy strands. Her throat constricted, and she swallowed hard before answering.
“Then there will always be hope.”
CLOSURE
In the weeks that followed Luke’s departure, Naomi protected Luke’s love safely in her heart. And beneath all the sadness of watching Arthur’s decline, the smallest light of hope burned deep inside of her.
She determined, however, that she would fulfill her duty to Arthur. By caring for him, by standing by him, and by allowing him time to know his daughter.
And in watching him wither away, she was not alone. The entire household, his mother, his brother, even the servants endured the process along with her. A few cousins and aunts came to visit. Lady Tempest insisted they had come to lift his spirits. She referred to Arthur’s illness as the ague, and Naomi supposed that it sounded less ill-omened than malaria.
The disease teased them all. Arthur would hover on the precipice of death for days on end and then the fever would break, and for a day or two, he’d seem almost normal.
On one occasion, Arthur’s mother mentioned the possibility of Amelia having a younger brother or sister. Naomi’s response had been a pointed glare, and Lady Tempest did not bring up the subject again. Because although no one mentioned Arthur’s unspoken affliction, the abscesses that appeared almostovernight and sometimes putrefied were a daily reminder that he had ruined himself with his licentious behavior.
She would do what she could to provide comfort, but aside from assisting him to drink or eat, reading out loud at his bedside, or bringing Amelia for short visits, she was repelled by his touch.
Days passed into weeks, spring turned to summer, and although nearly all of London society retreated to their country estates, life at Galewick Manor remained relatively unchanged.
Crescent Park, however, sat mostly empty.
Lady Lucinda, having taken up residence with her husband at his estate near Scarborough, found time to write occasionally, but she seemed to have her hands full adjusting to all the duties that came with her new title. The Duke of Blackheart and his wife had left shortly after the Season ended to tend to a situation concerning the duchess’s niece—leaving Lydia to return home quite alone, without any of her siblings to keep her company.
Naomi was more than happy to spend time with her, and the two of them did their best to fill the gap in each other’s lives. Lydia had become a dear friend, and with her visits, she brought a glimpse of life outside of the deathwatch inside of Galewick. She also, on occasion, brought correspondence from Luke with her.
His letters did not read like love letters but more like those of a friend.
