She Will Rejoice (6 page)

CHAPTER NINE
                           

Finn had been forced into marriage, but his bride had not been chosen for him. His mother had simply said his bride must be “acceptable for our family’s position.”
For her concession on that point, Finn was grateful.

He had taken some time to look for the right wife, and he was now satisfied he had found her. Finn had been
convinced he could find common ground with Naomi. He had not expected to find her so charming, intelligent, or entertaining but was quite pleased with his luck.

He could not be sure
his wife felt the same way though she seemed open to him. She was a bit jumpy at first, but she had grown more comfortable as the weeks passed, and he flattered himself that she did like him. Perhaps she had never heard the stories circulating about him after all, and he would have a chance to prove he could be the husband she desired.

Finn glanced up at his wife who was engrossed in a book she had purchased at Portsmouth. Her brow was puckered and her lips were pressed together in a line. He smiled at her expression and went back to his own book.

“Look, Finn,” her voice jolted him from the story some time later, “we are nearly home.”

He leaned forward to look out the window, “We still have several miles left, love.”

She laughed, “I suppose we are, but I am seeing familiar sights now, so I feel we are almost home.”

Finn
loved her enthusiasm. Even the mundane things were exciting to Naomi.

“Are you hungry?” he pointed to the box Mrs. Baker had packed for them.

She wrinkled her nose, “Not really. I have been situated here so long that have not worked up an appetite.”

Finn wondered if she also had personal needs to attend, “Would you like to stop?”

“No, thank you,” Naomi looked back at her book. “Feel free to take some refreshment yourself, Finn. I will eat when we stop or when we arrive home.”

She spoke of going hom
e as if it were the most pleasant thing in the world. He hoped to make it pleasant for her, but he knew his mother was not going to be easy on her new daughter-in-law.

It had occurred to him more than once that he should take her straight to his London home instead of bringing her to Selby, but they were expected for the holidays at
Tessa’s home not five miles from his and at Naomi’s family home as well.

This was the best option, and Naomi would have to meet his mother sooner or later anyway. He now only wrestled with how much to tell his bride about his mother.

Before he made a decision on that topic, they were driving in the gates of his family home. The carriage pulled up to the front door, and Randolph, the coachman, leapt down and opened the door. His chance to prepare his wife was gone.

“Master Haydn,” Mr. Dillon’s brisk form could be seen coming across the lawn as the butler called out to him. “We did not expect to see you so early in the day.”

Finn handed his wife out of the carriage, “Mrs. Haydn is an excellent traveler, Dillon.”

He glanced down at the flushed face of his bride, “My dear, I would like to present our butler, Mr. Dillon.”

She nodded.

“And our housekeeper, Mrs. Smythe.”

The new mistress smiled at the round-faced woman.

The rest of
the staff began lining the walk so Finn could present them to his wife. He did so as quickly as possible, given their indoor attire and the cold front that was blowing in.

The newlyweds were soon divested of their coats, but Dillon stopped him before he could make a decision as to what he would do next.

“Your mother would wait until morning to meet with you, sir.”

Finn breathed out a mixture of relief and irritation
, “Thank you, Dillon.”

The butler nodded and left them alone again.

What right had his mother to spurn his wife? It was her idea that Finn should get married in the first place, and now she was going to pretend Naomi did not exist? He knew, of course, there was more to the situation than a simple rebuff. He tamped down his irritation with one woman and turned to the other.

“Well, madam,” he offered his arm, “might I see you to your chambers?”

“Finn,” she spoke up as they reached the top of the stairs, “will Missy be joining me here?”

He stopped in front of her door, “Missy?”

“My ladies’ maid.”

He pushed down on the ornate knob, “You had no need of a maid while we were on our wedding trip.”

He was just teasing her, so he was surprised to see a fleck of irritation in her eye, “I cannot always depend on you to assist me in this manner, Finn.”

This was not how he wanted to return home
. He had been in a pleasant mood until his mother’s dismissal. Now he was being rude to his wife who had more right to be offended by the slight than he. Finn thought it would help to apologize for his casual dismissal of Naomi’s concern, but he pushed it aside. There was no need for her to react in such a prickly manner.

“It was a jest, Naomi,” he led her into her room and
yanked open another door. “This leads to our shared bathing chamber. Through it is my room.”

She barely glanced around.

“Will you need anything else?” he tapped his foot impatiently.

She blinked at him, and his heart nearly broke. There were tears on her lashes – tears that he had caused.

“I am so sorry, Naomi,” he rushed to draw her into his arms.

“What did I do?” her voice trembled.

“Nothing,” he assured her, pulling her closer. “You did nothing. It was I who was wrong.”

She pressed her hands against his chest.

He let her push away from him.

She
did not leave him, however, as he expected her to do. She apparently just wanted a good look at his face while he spoke to her.

“I am sorry,” he spoke up again when it became clear
she wasn’t going to say anything. “I am a little frustrated right now, and,” he stopped talking to rethink what he was going to say.

“Frustrated?
With me?”

“No,” he pulled her to the set
tee at the end of her bed. “Not with you. It has nothing to do with you.”

“We’ve been home for twenty minutes, Finn,” she pointed out the flaw in his logic. “You’ve had little to frustrate you, save me.”

“It is my mother,” he admitted softly. “I am sorry my mother will not meet you.”

Naomi reached for his hand, and he could see the compassion in her eyes, “I am sorry, Finn. I didn’t realize it meant so much to you. She is likely not feeling well. . .”

Finn’s laugh came out harshly, “Not feeling well. My mother hasn’t been feeling well for more than twenty years.”

“I didn’t realize she had been ill that long.”

Finn took a deep breath, “She’s not ill, Naomi. She’s a drunk.”

CHAPTER TEN

Naomi couldn’t be more surprised. Surely she must have heard him wrong.

             
“A drunk?”

             
He leaned over and rested his elbows on his knees, facing away from her, “She generally starts drinking in the late morning or early afternoon.”

             
Naomi rested a hand on the back of her husband’s neck.

             
“Tessa and John took her into their home for a time. They locked up the drink.”

             
He stood up and paced away from her, “Mother bribed a servant to get the key.”

             
Naomi watched her husband stand as far from her as he could without leaving the room. He faced away from her, his shoulders were bunched, and, even from this distance, she could see the vein on his neck throbbing.

             
“Finn,” she held her seat, “I am sorry.”

             
“Why should you be sorry?” he spun back to her. “You are not the one who spent her son’s childhood in a drunken stupor.”

Naomi
tried not to react.

“I bring back my wife, the woman I married because my dear mother told me I must
or endanger the inheritance left by my grandfather. What do I get in return? Tthat very woman,” he spat out the word, “is too full of gin to see me or meet you.”

Naomi
cringed at his implication that she was no more than a bargaining chip.

He saw it.

Finn hurried to her and dropped to his knees, “I am sorry, love,” he took her hands in his. “Please forgive me, Naomi.”

Her heart ached at his words. She should have known there was another reason for his hasty marriage.

“I believe I would like to be alone tonight, Finn,” she rose and moved away from him, hoping he would follow her with an explanation or a plea to be with her.

Finn remained
in his position for four or five seconds. Then he stood to his feet, went into his room and closed the door.

Naomi refused tea and cried he
rself to sleep that night. She woke the following morning with a headache. Sitting up in bed, it took a moment or two for the young woman to orient herself to her surroundings. When she did, and when she remembered what had transpired the night before, she threw back her covers and went through the bathing chamber to her husband’s room. His deep chuckled registered in her ears just as she threw open the door.

He was not alone.

Finn was standing in the middle of the room with a maid. As far as Naomi could see there was nothing untoward going on, but the maid wore a guilty blush. Finn raised an eyebrow in question.

Naomi told herself to remain where she was. She was not going to accuse her husband in front of the maid, but she was not going to leave to allow them the freedom to continue what they had begun – if, indeed, they had begun something.

The maid curtseyed and left as quickly as possible.

Finn watched her leave, but then walked toward the fireplace and brushed with his
booted toe at some ashes that had spilled on the hearth, “Did you need something, or were you just so eager to see my chamber you couldn’t bother to knock?”

Naomi’s blood boiled, “I needed to see you, Finn,” she stepped closer to him, “but I no longer feel the need to apologize for my treatment of you last night.”

His head jerked up, “Apologize?”

“Yes. I was under the impression that I should have kept you with me. I perhaps should have made an attempt to ease your suffering, but I can clearly see you will find comfort elsewhere.”

Finn was in front of his wife in two strides, “Nothing was going on in here, Naomi.”

She wondered if he truly believed that, or if he said the first thing that entered his mind.

“And if I had not come in when I did?” she pressed, stepping back from him slightly.

He breathed heavily, “I have never bedded a maid, Naomi.”

She was not comforted by his emphasis on the word ‘maid.’

“And I am not looking for comfort or anything else from anyone but you,” he reached toward her and pulled gently on her arms.

Naomi wanted to believe him, but she had an uneasy feeling. It was likely true that he would not have gone further with the maid than a little flirting, but she did not care for even that much. Moreover, if rumors could be trusted, it was not the household help she need worry about.

She allowed herself to be
drawn to him.

“I am sorry,” he whispered into her hair. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

She was not appeased. He was not apologizing for his questionable behavior but for hurting her. Naomi was about to pull away again.

“I love you,” his words st
opped her. “I did not expect to, but I do.”

She turned her face up to him,
trying to gauge the truth in his statement.

She read the warmth in his expression,
“I love you too, Finn.”

He smiled and angled his head to kiss her just as a knock sounded on his door.

Finn growled at the interruption, “What is it?”

Naomi darted behind her husband when she realized the door was opening. He grabbed his own dressing gown from the back of a chair and shoved it toward her.

“Mr. Haydn,” the butler’s expression was solemn, “your mother would like to see you now.”

Naomi could hear her husband grind his teeth.

“Now is not a good time, Dillon,” he barked.

Naomi noted that the older man did not even flinch. He simply nodded and began to back out.

“Wait!” she called out as she stepped from behind Finn, “please inform Mrs. Haydn we will be there shortly.”

Dillon met her eyes for one brief moment before turning to his master for confirmation. Finn nodded, and the man left.

“My dear,” he grasped her wrist so she could not immediately escape, “we do not need to be jumping at her commands.”

She lifted up on her toes and kissed his cheek, “I shall be just a few minutes.”

Fifteen minutes later, the young couple was standing outside his mother’s parlor.

Her maid, a thin, nervous looking creature
, nodded at Finn and rapped smartly on the door.

“Enter,” a soft voice answered the sound.

The maid spoke as she opened the door, “Mister and Missus Haydn, ma’am.”

Finn didn’t wait
for his mother to speak up but entered with Naomi on his arm.

“Mother,” he nodded at the woman, “this is Naomi.”

The Mrs. Diana Haydn rose from her place and crossed the room. She was elegance personified. Her hair had not a strand out of place, her dress hung without wrinkle or crease on her trim form. Though there were lines on the woman’s face, Naomi noted they were so perfectly spaced, it looked as though they had been drawn on intentionally.

“Mrs. Haydn,” the older woman greeted the younger formally, “how lovely to meet you. Please come in.”

The words were proper, but the tone was icy.

Finn took the chair right next to his wife. Naomi thought he would have maintained his grip on her hand if he could have done so without drawing notice.

“Your father is the second son of the Earl of Goodwin, is he not?”

“No, ma’am,” Naomi spoke up. “My grandfather was the second son of the Earl.”

The lady narrowed her eyes as though she dislike being corrected.

“My mother’s father is an earl, but, when my grandfather died with no sons, the title passed to my cousin.”

Mrs. Haydn pursed her lips.

Finn spoke up before his mother could question Naomi further, “Have you seen much of Tessa in the last month?”

She turned her glare to her son, “I have seen Lady Theodosia as much as is proper, and we will see her again tomorrow.”

Naomi was pleased to see Finn’s sister again, but she had thought they would wait until Boxing Day.

“Is she bringing Aunt Rhoda with her?” Finn seemed pleased at the prospect.

His mother did not, “I cannot say whether George and his silly wife will have arrived in time to accompany her. Perhaps they are already with her, but I have seen nothing of them.”

Naomi wondered at the older woman’s words and tone.

“
Please tell Mrs. Hollingberry I would like tea with my breakfast instead of coffee,” Mrs. Haydn had clearly tired of them.

Finn rose and kissed his mother’s cheek, “Goodbye, mother.”

Naomi wasn’t sure if she should follow suit. She opted to rise and await a cue.

Mrs. Haydn’s head snapped up, “Where do you think you are going?”

Finn rolled his eyes at his mother, “Do you need something from Naomi, mother? We were going to break fast together.”

“Is it so strange to think I would want to know the girl who has stolen your heart?”

“Mother,” he warned.

             
Naomi squeezed her husband’s arm, “Thank you for your concern, Mr. Haydn. I shall join you in the breakfast room following my consultation with your mother.”

             
He smirked, “Will you be able to find it?”

             
Naomi realized she probably wouldn’t, “Perhaps you had better give me instructions.”

             
He laughed, “I will send someone up to wait by the door.”

             
Naomi smiled her thanks and sat back down.

             
“How did you meet Finneas?” the older woman began as soon as the door snicked shut.

             
“My father introduced us. He was determined I should marry your son.”

             
The woman raised her eyebrows at Naomi’s blunt answer.

             
“Mr. Haydn was not attracted to me, however,” the new wife decided to go a bit further.

             
“I have trouble believing that.”

             
Naomi blinked, “Oh?”

             
The Mrs. Haydn leaned forward, “You are a lovely woman, and I do not believe my son has ever looked beyond a pleasing face and figure.”

             
“Perhaps not if one is simply looking for a momentary distraction,” Naomi was appalled the woman could speak of Finn as though he were so shallow. “One would be looking for something completely different in a wife.”

             
Mrs. Haydn was shocked into momentary silence.

             
Naomi smoothed the folds of her gown.

             
“You were aware, then, of his reputation, and you still married him?”

             
“I had no choice. My father insisted I marry him, just as you insisted Mr. Haydn marry.”

             
“You are forthright.”

She acknowledged the truth with a slight nod.

“I would not have expected Finneas to choose someone so plainspoken.”

             
Naomi didn’t answer that.

             
“I suppose he knows you were forced into matrimony,” Mrs. Haydn seemed to be sorting through all the information she had been given.

             
“He does.”

             
“And yet, he seems fond of you.”

             
Naomi smiled, “I believe he is.”

             
“And you of him?” the lady seemed less sure of this.

             
“I love him.”

             
The older woman’s shoulders slumped just a bit, “That will make it harder, you know.”

             
Naomi did not care for the warning tone, “It will make what harder?”

             
“The betrayal.”

             
Naomi’s heart lurched.

             
“Surely you do not think my son capable of throwing off his habits and remaining faithful to one woman?”

             
Naomi flushed and looked down at her folded hands.

             
“Infidelity is bred into that boy,” Mrs. Haydn’s voice was colder than before. “I once believed I could change my husband – make him love me so much that he had no desire to stray as his own father had.”

             
Naomi wanted to put her hands over her ears to shut out the truth, but she did not.

             
“Your husband will abandon your bed, and your sons will follow in his footsteps.”

             
Naomi rose, “I will not hear any more of this, madam.”

             
She crossed the room and opened the door.