in Town.” Aunt Janine stood and poked Marshall in the chest. “I’ll not be bullied about by my own nephew.”
Marshall took Aunt Janine’s hand and gently lowered it. “Lord Freese tells me there will be dancing,” he told Naomi. “And there is a ruin to explore, and gardens. Jordan’s stepmother, Lady Whithorn, is hostessing. She and the earl don’t come to Town much, so you haven’t made her acquaintance. I believe you would get on with her very well, though.”
The more Marshall talked, the more convinced Naomi became that she was unwanted at home. Her throat tightened and she blinked rapidly. “Please don’t send me away.” Her voice was thick with misery, scarcely more than a whimper.
While she was attracted to the handsome Jordan Atherton — intrigued by him, even — she scarcely knew him at all. The thought of spending weeks in the man’s home made her uneasy.
Aunt Janine sniffed in disdain. “Nothing you’ve said has convinced me to agree to this scheme. I shan’t take part.”
Marshall huffed and his lips pressed together. “I’m sorry to hear that, Aunt,” he said tersely, the cajoling tone evaporated from his voice. “Naomi is going, and that’s an end to it. If you wish her properly chaperoned, you will go, too.”
Aunt Janine’s jaw snapped shut and she blinked in surprise. For a moment, she looked dumbstruck, an expression Naomi could not recall ever having seen on her face before now. Marshall’s words chilled Naomi with their finality. He crossed his arms, obviously not intending to budge.
Aunt Janine turned to her niece. “And what say you, Naomi? Will you tolerate this … this … dictator’s edict?”
Naomi glanced from her aunt’s pleading gaze to her brother’s steely one and then to her lap. Her clenched knuckles had gone white.
The times Naomi had defied her family were rare. Most notably, she had befriended Isabelle when Isabelle was the divorcée, Mrs. Lockwood, bearing the same name as Naomi but estranged from her family. It had never seemed right to Naomi how Isabelle was just … dismissed … like an unsatisfactory maid. To her mind, Isabelle’s first marriage to Marshall had made her Naomi’s sister, and no railing by her siblings or mother had been able to persuade her to see it otherwise. And so she’d done the apparently unspeakable and treated Isabelle like her friend and sister, because for the life of her, Naomi had been unable to see what the fuss was about. The real injustice had been in how the rest of the family had treated Isabelle so abominably.
Anyway, she reflected, that had all worked out for the best. Isabelle and Marshall were legally married once again, and no one held that
faux pas
against Naomi any longer. Indeed, Isabelle had often credited Naomi with helping to bring her and Marshall back together.
This situation was different, though. As much as Naomi wanted nothing more than to go home and spend the summer with her family, her family didn’t want her there. She struggled against a feeling of betrayal. After Naomi had poised herself against her family’s wishes for Isabelle’s sake, this was how she was to be repaid — like a baby bird shoved from the nest.
“If Marshall says I must go, then I must,” she said. Aunt Janine sputtered; Naomi threw a sharp look at her. “I know my duty, Aunt.”
Marshall exhaled; his posture relaxed fractionally. The idea flickered across Naomi’s mind that if she had held her ground, Marshall would not have forced her to go, but it vanished almost as soon as she’d thought it.
“Aunt Janine,” Marshall said, “I suggest you follow Naomi’s sensible lead and prepare to make your departure. You set out in the morning.”
Aunt Janine’s face drained of color. She nodded curtly and strode, stiff backed, from the library.
When their aunt had gone, Naomi lifted her eyes to Marshall. Her brother held himself awkwardly, as though uncomfortable in his own skin. Once again, Naomi wondered
Marshall took Aunt Janine’s hand and gently lowered it. “Lord Freese tells me there will be dancing,” he told Naomi. “And there is a ruin to explore, and gardens. Jordan’s stepmother, Lady Whithorn, is hostessing. She and the earl don’t come to Town much, so you haven’t made her acquaintance. I believe you would get on with her very well, though.”
The more Marshall talked, the more convinced Naomi became that she was unwanted at home. Her throat tightened and she blinked rapidly. “Please don’t send me away.” Her voice was thick with misery, scarcely more than a whimper.
While she was attracted to the handsome Jordan Atherton — intrigued by him, even — she scarcely knew him at all. The thought of spending weeks in the man’s home made her uneasy.
Aunt Janine sniffed in disdain. “Nothing you’ve said has convinced me to agree to this scheme. I shan’t take part.”
Marshall huffed and his lips pressed together. “I’m sorry to hear that, Aunt,” he said tersely, the cajoling tone evaporated from his voice. “Naomi is going, and that’s an end to it. If you wish her properly chaperoned, you will go, too.”
Aunt Janine’s jaw snapped shut and she blinked in surprise. For a moment, she looked dumbstruck, an expression Naomi could not recall ever having seen on her face before now. Marshall’s words chilled Naomi with their finality. He crossed his arms, obviously not intending to budge.
Aunt Janine turned to her niece. “And what say you, Naomi? Will you tolerate this … this … dictator’s edict?”
Naomi glanced from her aunt’s pleading gaze to her brother’s steely one and then to her lap. Her clenched knuckles had gone white.
The times Naomi had defied her family were rare. Most notably, she had befriended Isabelle when Isabelle was the divorcée, Mrs. Lockwood, bearing the same name as Naomi but estranged from her family. It had never seemed right to Naomi how Isabelle was just … dismissed … like an unsatisfactory maid. To her mind, Isabelle’s first marriage to Marshall had made her Naomi’s sister, and no railing by her siblings or mother had been able to persuade her to see it otherwise. And so she’d done the apparently unspeakable and treated Isabelle like her friend and sister, because for the life of her, Naomi had been unable to see what the fuss was about. The real injustice had been in how the rest of the family had treated Isabelle so abominably.
Anyway, she reflected, that had all worked out for the best. Isabelle and Marshall were legally married once again, and no one held that
faux pas
against Naomi any longer. Indeed, Isabelle had often credited Naomi with helping to bring her and Marshall back together.
This situation was different, though. As much as Naomi wanted nothing more than to go home and spend the summer with her family, her family didn’t want her there. She struggled against a feeling of betrayal. After Naomi had poised herself against her family’s wishes for Isabelle’s sake, this was how she was to be repaid — like a baby bird shoved from the nest.
“If Marshall says I must go, then I must,” she said. Aunt Janine sputtered; Naomi threw a sharp look at her. “I know my duty, Aunt.”
Marshall exhaled; his posture relaxed fractionally. The idea flickered across Naomi’s mind that if she had held her ground, Marshall would not have forced her to go, but it vanished almost as soon as she’d thought it.
“Aunt Janine,” Marshall said, “I suggest you follow Naomi’s sensible lead and prepare to make your departure. You set out in the morning.”
Aunt Janine’s face drained of color. She nodded curtly and strode, stiff backed, from the library.
When their aunt had gone, Naomi lifted her eyes to Marshall. Her brother held himself awkwardly, as though uncomfortable in his own skin. Once again, Naomi wondered
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