deficiencies.
She licked her finger, turned the page, and was thoughtfully absorbing the proper technique of clamping and cutting the umbilical cord when she was startled by a soft knock at the door. Naomi slammed the book shut and hastily stuffed it under the cushion as Brenna entered and curtsied.
“His Grace wishes to see you, milady,” the maid said. “He awaits you in the library.”
Naomi knit her fingers together in her lap. “Thank you.” She maintained a placid countenance even though her right sitting bone perched painfully on the hard cover.
After Brenna left, Naomi retrieved the book. She passed a half-packed trunk standing at the foot of her bed and shoved the volume beneath a pile of shifts.
In the library, she found Marshall standing beside the fireplace — filled with a painted screen now, instead of a fire — and Aunt Janine seated on the sofa. Naomi’s eyes flitted across the room to the spot where Jordan had put an end to Mr. Hayward’s unwelcome advances. She flushed, remembering the kiss Lord Freese had spontaneously pressed to her forehead after issuing his baffling remark about needing women.
“I was going to go to Kew Gardens today,” Aunt Janine said in an indignant tone, “to see this one’s exhibit of Amazonian plants.” She pointed an accusing finger at Marshall. “You’d best have a good reason for spoiling my morning, boy. And you owe me a private tour, too.” She pursed her lips in a miffed fashion and nodded firmly, flapping the brim of her lace cap against graying hair.
Uneasiness stole over Naomi. “Is Isabelle all right?” Her sister-in-law was not present for what looked like a family meeting. Had something gone wrong during the night?
“Isabelle’s fine,” Marshall assured her. He waved absentmindedly at the sofa. Naomi sat beside her aunt, who was dressed in a typically unstylish frock. The drab flower print of her calico dress recalled a funerary arrangement. Aunt Janine’s sharp eyes cut to Naomi. Suddenly self-conscious under the older lady’s scrutiny, she jerked her gaze back to her brother.
“Are you all packed?” Marshall asked.
“Nearly so,” Naomi answered. She prettily folded her hands on the muslin lap of her own fashionable morning dress.
Thank goodness I don’t share Auntie’s disdain for style, too
, she thought.
“Good.” Marshall braced an arm against the mantel. He parted his lips and hesitated, then turned a heavy gaze on her. “There’s been a change of plan, Naomi. You and Aunt Janine will travel to Lintern Abbey, rather than to Helmsdale.”
Confusion shook her. “Lintern Abbey?” For a moment, she struggled to recall whose property bore the name. “Oh!” Her startled eyes flew wide. “That’s Lord Freese’s estate! Why ever would you send us there, Marshall?”
Aunt Janine straightened and lifted her chin. “I am not going any such place, young man. I’m remaining right here in Town for another month, and
then
I shall come to Helmsdale in time for your child’s birth, just as I said I would do.”
“And I promised Isabelle I would help arrange the nursery,” Naomi added. “Besides, why should Lord Freese want to host the two of us?”
He looked from one to the other, his jaw working from side to side. “It’s not just the two of you,” he explained. “Lord Freese is hosting a house party and has graciously invited you to attend. Wouldn’t you like to have fun with other young people? There won’t be any excitement at Helmsdale for a while.”
Naomi frowned. Despite his talk of fun and parties, it seemed like Marshall was trying to get rid of her. Her stomach knotted as she felt more than ever like an interloper. “I’d rather be at home with my family,” she said unhappily.
Maybe Isabelle didn’t want Naomi there, after all, and had asked Marshall to find her somewhere else to go. Had the incident the night of the auction vexed Isabelle more than she’d let on?
“And I should much rather be
She licked her finger, turned the page, and was thoughtfully absorbing the proper technique of clamping and cutting the umbilical cord when she was startled by a soft knock at the door. Naomi slammed the book shut and hastily stuffed it under the cushion as Brenna entered and curtsied.
“His Grace wishes to see you, milady,” the maid said. “He awaits you in the library.”
Naomi knit her fingers together in her lap. “Thank you.” She maintained a placid countenance even though her right sitting bone perched painfully on the hard cover.
After Brenna left, Naomi retrieved the book. She passed a half-packed trunk standing at the foot of her bed and shoved the volume beneath a pile of shifts.
In the library, she found Marshall standing beside the fireplace — filled with a painted screen now, instead of a fire — and Aunt Janine seated on the sofa. Naomi’s eyes flitted across the room to the spot where Jordan had put an end to Mr. Hayward’s unwelcome advances. She flushed, remembering the kiss Lord Freese had spontaneously pressed to her forehead after issuing his baffling remark about needing women.
“I was going to go to Kew Gardens today,” Aunt Janine said in an indignant tone, “to see this one’s exhibit of Amazonian plants.” She pointed an accusing finger at Marshall. “You’d best have a good reason for spoiling my morning, boy. And you owe me a private tour, too.” She pursed her lips in a miffed fashion and nodded firmly, flapping the brim of her lace cap against graying hair.
Uneasiness stole over Naomi. “Is Isabelle all right?” Her sister-in-law was not present for what looked like a family meeting. Had something gone wrong during the night?
“Isabelle’s fine,” Marshall assured her. He waved absentmindedly at the sofa. Naomi sat beside her aunt, who was dressed in a typically unstylish frock. The drab flower print of her calico dress recalled a funerary arrangement. Aunt Janine’s sharp eyes cut to Naomi. Suddenly self-conscious under the older lady’s scrutiny, she jerked her gaze back to her brother.
“Are you all packed?” Marshall asked.
“Nearly so,” Naomi answered. She prettily folded her hands on the muslin lap of her own fashionable morning dress.
Thank goodness I don’t share Auntie’s disdain for style, too
, she thought.
“Good.” Marshall braced an arm against the mantel. He parted his lips and hesitated, then turned a heavy gaze on her. “There’s been a change of plan, Naomi. You and Aunt Janine will travel to Lintern Abbey, rather than to Helmsdale.”
Confusion shook her. “Lintern Abbey?” For a moment, she struggled to recall whose property bore the name. “Oh!” Her startled eyes flew wide. “That’s Lord Freese’s estate! Why ever would you send us there, Marshall?”
Aunt Janine straightened and lifted her chin. “I am not going any such place, young man. I’m remaining right here in Town for another month, and
then
I shall come to Helmsdale in time for your child’s birth, just as I said I would do.”
“And I promised Isabelle I would help arrange the nursery,” Naomi added. “Besides, why should Lord Freese want to host the two of us?”
He looked from one to the other, his jaw working from side to side. “It’s not just the two of you,” he explained. “Lord Freese is hosting a house party and has graciously invited you to attend. Wouldn’t you like to have fun with other young people? There won’t be any excitement at Helmsdale for a while.”
Naomi frowned. Despite his talk of fun and parties, it seemed like Marshall was trying to get rid of her. Her stomach knotted as she felt more than ever like an interloper. “I’d rather be at home with my family,” she said unhappily.
Maybe Isabelle didn’t want Naomi there, after all, and had asked Marshall to find her somewhere else to go. Had the incident the night of the auction vexed Isabelle more than she’d let on?
“And I should much rather be
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