“Was any of it real?” Arthur didn’t understand her question. “Luke asked his brother to investigate. There is no record of our marriage in Gretna Green. But we stood together, you and I, and took vows.” She’d wanted answers to this ever since he’d returned but hadn’t wished to stir up more trouble than was necessary. She hadn’t thought it would help anything to exposeGil’s duplicity. “Our daughter would have been illegitimate. How could you do that to your own flesh and blood?”
“Debts.” He pinched his eyes closed. “I had intended to meet with your father. And then I was going to…” And then his eyes opened. “What do you mean that shewould have been illegitimate? Did you forge my signature? Of course you did. Because you thought I was dead.”
“I forged nothing.” Naomi sat up straight and met his stare. “At the time of Amelia’s birth, I was, in fact, a legally married woman. Luke and I wed by special license before he returned to the front.”
Remembering the sweetest ceremony in the world calmed her heart. On the chilly evening of December first, Luke’s last night in Hull Crossings, Naomi and Luke had solemnly taken their vows of marriage, making certain all was legal and documented properly. They’d done so to protect her baby and her reputation. But Luke had also been emphatically insistent that hewantedto.
Blackheart and Mrs. Cromwell had been the only persons present, to act as witnesses, and the vicar of course. Not even the twins, who had been tucked up safely at the inn, were told. Their marriage would only have become known to their solicitors and families if it became absolutely necessary. Luke had promised Naomi a very public wedding, with all the fanfare she deserved, after he’d returned from the front and at the end of her mourning.
He chuckled softly. “Luke is a good man. I never could live up to that bastard.” That ghostly smile hovered on his lips again. “He will be a good father to Amelia, a good husband to you.”
Naomi did not argue or deny any of it. She merely nodded.
“I’m sorry,” Arthur rasped into the quiet. “For not being the man I pretended to be. You deserve better. You did all along. At least in my death, you will have that.”
“We were happy for a time, you and I.” She found it surprisingly easy to comfort him. She was still hurt and angry, of course she was, and she no longer believed that Arthur Gilcrest was a good man—but it would do no good to inflict more pain upon him in this moment, not for her or anyone else.
“Tell him I’m sorry. I pretended it was my due. I pretended—” A fit of coughing took hold of him, cutting off his words. She immediately lifted the glass to his lips and trickled a few drops of water into his mouth. She’d done it dozens of times, but there was an almost ritualistic meaning this time.
When he settled back onto the pillow, eyes closed, Naomi thought perhaps he’d lost consciousness. His chest rose and fell, almost imperceptibly. But he was still here.
“I never meant…”
She jumped when his voice broke the quiet again, as he squeezed her hand. “What?”
“I never meant for anyone to get hurt. Just needed the money… Needed something to send you… But I couldn’t stop them from burning…” He let out a soft wailing sound of despair.
Naomi froze. He was talking about the ambush. He had been the traitor. Luke had been right in his suspicions.
A lone tear squeezed out from one of his eyes and slowly trailed down the side of his face. “I deserve to go to hell. I deserve it, Mimi, but I’m afraid.” Torment highjacked his voice. He was dying. He was afraid. And he was utterly helpless.
“I forgive you.” It wasn’t her place to forgive him for the lives his actions had cost but, in this moment, she was simply a woman watching another human face eternity. “Luke forgives you.”
He shuddered. “I’m so sorry. I’m so…” He exhaled and fell still. His chest did not rise again.
Naomi’s chin began trembling. He was gone.
It was over.
WHERE THERE IS LOVE, THERE IS HOPE
The event of Arthur’s very real death was acknowledged with an actual funeral. There was a body to be put into the ground. He would not be coming back this time.
The memorial headstone that had been placed in the Tempest family cemetery last autumn after the false announcement of his death would soon be replaced. It was as though his family had been given a second chance to say their goodbyes.
As a rule, women didn’t normally attend funerals; it was considered unseemly and newly widowed ladies were deemed to be too fragile to witness the lowering of their husbands’ bodies into the ground.
But Naomi had attended this one. Even seeing the finality of him taking his last breath, she’d needed to see the ceremony of it. She’d watched his casket as it was lowered into the ground.
She’d sent word to Luke but doubted she would hear from him for weeks. Sometimes it could take months to reach loved ones who were deployed. Her worrying was not at an end.
The distance of war, the turmoil of battle, it changed people. She doubted anything could alter the content of Luke’scharacter, but she prepared herself for the possibility that things between them could change. Her seedling of hope had been deprived of water and sunshine and nutrients for months. As had his.
She’d spent nearly three quarters of a year living at Galewick Manor, and although she was grateful for all Arthur’s family had done, she wished for some separation. Arthur was gone. She wished to move on with her life.
She would not act in haste, and Lady Tempest had grown quite fond of Amelia. There would always be some connection, as was only right. And yet, Naomi faced some important decisions.
Ironically, three days after Arthur’s funeral, she’d received two different letters, both of which presented information that could greatly affect her future.
