Romance Fan Fiction / Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Hidden Away ❯ Naomi's Sanctuary ( Chapter 6 )

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Chapter 6
Naomi's sanctuary

 

 

After moments of simply staring at the man dressed in formal wear before her, Naomi started to plead her case to him, “P-Please, sir.  You mustn't tell Mr. C-Cokrain that you've seen me.  I'm sure he is p-positively fuming right now and I-I fear for myself if he is to find me.”

 

Breagan took a long look at the woman who had suddenly appeared in his house after she finished pleading.  He could never forget that face.  Right now she was shaking all over, including her bottom lip, he noted.  She was barefoot and wrapped in a dirty cloak.  Her hair was tangled and her face was flushed, but he knew who she was.

 

“Before we start to alert the guests, I suggest we take this little meeting into the study,” said the man Naomi was still staring at stupidly, “Father, I'll be just a moment,” he said into the room to her left.  He looked back at her and indicated the room to her right.  The trio quietly headed for the study where he closed the door after ushering in Naomi and Minna.

 

“Now.  If you would, Minna, tell me how Ms. Foster came to be in our foyer, I would be grateful,” he spoke to Minna in a kind but straightforward voice on his way toward his desk.  He sat on the edge and waited patiently.

 

“Well, Mr. Tyler, she ran inta th' foyer whiter `n a ghost an' out o' air, then I `eard more feet on th' porch followin' `er.  Boots, they sounded like, an' th' girl looked at me…she was scared I c'n tell ye,” Minna explained as quickly as she could, hoping to get the girl in some warm clothes soon.  All the while Naomi was shaking off her residual fear and looking at her bare feet, still clutching the cloak she had taken from the coach outside.  She'd heard the name Tyler before, hadn't she?

 

“So I put th' poor dear in a evenin' cloak I `appened to be `olding so's ta disguise `er from the' man runnin' in askin' if I'd…“seen a `wench' in a nightie”…,” Minna mimicked, “I told `im that I hadn't an' ta get out `afore I called ye ta throw `im out.  That's what happened.” Minna finished her explanation and Naomi looked up to see the beautiful man's reaction to it.  He was looking right at her, and she soon began to feel much warmer than she had only moments ago, the shaking subsiding quickly.  She blushed at her reaction to his perusal and looked away to cool her face.

 

“So, Ms. Foster, may I ask why that man was chasing you?” he carefully asked of her in a casually sensual voice.

 

 Naomi turned back when he spoke to her directly.  She steeled herself for the questions that she knew would follow that one, and cleared her throat.

 

“He wasn't the reason I started running.  He was only sent after me by Mr. Cokrain.  He's why I started running,” she said with a shiver, “I cannot let him find me.  I don't want him near me again.”

 

 “I imagine you are speaking of Caldwell Cokrain?”

 

“Yes.  Please don't let him know where I am!” She pleaded once again.

 

He held up a hand in a placating gesture, “Don't worry, Ms. Foster.  I'll not tell him that you're here.  Was there somewhere in particular you were running toward?”

 

“No," she answered, bringing the edges of the cloak closer together, "Actually I know nobody here.  I arrived only a few days past by ship from England.  I was being sent to him to be his bride as a payment of some sort from my uncle,” Naomi frowned, “Although now, I'm pretty sure he had no intentions of marrying me.  I didn't think of where I might run to, I just started running after he…” she stumbled to a stop there, mortified at what she was about to reveal to him, and she started to pinken.

 

Breagan didn't need to hear the rest to know what Caldwell Cokrain had done to chase her away from him.  He also agreed with the doubt that Cokrain had actually sent for a bride.  He would probably have meant to keep her as a mistress.  

 

Caldwell Cokrain was a 'quiet' womanizer; it wasn't common knowledge that Cokrain had a particular liking of using women to his content, but he knew.  The confirmation that that's what she was there for had him seeing red, and he didn't often loose his temper.

 

Breagan had been surprised to find the vision he had wanted to steal from Cokrain standing in his foyer, shaking like a leaf.  It seemed that she had stolen herself away from Cokrain, and had somehow landed on his doorstep.  

 

He slowly contemplated the woman as he debated his options. As disheveled as she looked, she was just as stunning as she was when she was made-up.  Even more so close up.  He was having a hard time schooling his expression from her.  If she could see what he was thinking in his eyes, she'd probably run screaming back to Cokrain.  That wasn't what she needed right now.

 

He was at a loss as to what to do.  He couldn't simply let her leave since she had nowhere to go to, and to keep her at his place here would be hard to hide since it wasn't such a large house.  Someone would surely notice her.  Eventually they would find out who she was and where she came from.  Then she would be reported to Cokrain, who likely would have have every hoodlum in the city looking for her.  The only option that he felt was open to him to keep her away from Cokrain, was to hide her away as best he could in his vacation home in the country.  It was only a few hours away by carriage, and about an hour and a half by horseback.

 

His mind made up, Breagan took a deep breath, “Well, Ms. Foster, I'm afraid that I could not keep you here without you being discovered,” he said to her, pushing himself away from the edge of his desk.  Naomi's heart began to sink at the words he spoke while he continued speaking, “However," he said, holding up a finger, "If it would be agreeable to you, I could let you stay at my vacationing home in the country until you could get on your feet.”

 

Naomi looked back up at her savior with her eyes sparkling, causing him to catch his breath.

 

He held his breath at the look she was giving him; he knew that seeing her face lit up so brightly because of something he said would not be something he would soon forget.

 

Naomi stood up, thanking him profusely, “Oh, Mr. Tyler, that would be so very kind of you.  I wouldn't know how to repay you, I haven't a dime to my name.”

 

Breagan softly smiled at her acceptance, “No need to worry about repayment.  I wouldn't want a woman subjected to Caldwell Cokrain in any circumstance,” he turned to address Minna, “Could you take Ms. Foster to one of the guest rooms and help her with whatever she may need?” He looked back over at Naomi, and reached out gently taking her hand, “I am very glad to have met you, Naomi Foster,” he said slowly, pulling her hand up to kiss the back of it before letting the appendage go.

 

Minna watched this exchange with gleeful tittering in her head. Her boy was in for it, now…,

 

“Come wi' me, dearie, and we'll get ye all fixed up,” she chirped, breaking Naomi's attention from Breagan.  She followed Minna back to the foyer with one last look at the splendid man who'd given her a place to stay.  He was looking at her thoughtfully, and Naomi smiled softly at him when Minna prompted her to follow her to the second story of the cozy home.  Naomi followed Minna, luckily not tripping on the steps, as she had trouble taking her eyes off the compelling sight Breagan made.  

 

He was leaning in the doorway of his study in his formal wear with his arms crossed, and that smile was still on his face.  They were still looking at one another until Naomi finally did trip on a step, then she reluctantly turned her gaze to look where she was going.

 

Once on the second floor, Minna led her down a corridor where they went through a doorway near the end of the hall.  The doorway led to a comfortable room decorated in dark red with cream accents and wood trimming.  There was a four-poster bed to her left which was very large and had dark crimson bedding.  She saw a plush rug underneath the bed that was cream with red edging.  On one side of the bed, there was a doorway that she supposed was the wash room.  Parallel to the bed on the other side of it was a vanity wilth a wooden mirror that matched the bed.  Across from the bed was an armoire and another door, probably to another room.  At seeing that second door, Naomi mentally kicked herself; she didn't know how she could have forgotten to lock the door to Cokrain's room that night.  It was the door he had been in the process of locking when she had awoken with a nagging feeling only to find him in her room.  She would probably not forget that fear for herself anytime soon, with the evil lust that she had seen in those violet eyes of his as he advanced on her with bad intentions.  Naomi came out of her dark thoughts of what had happened only an hour ago as she watched Minna head over to the armoire to open it.  Inside of it were some women's clothes.

 

`Whose are those?' Naomi wondered offhandedly.  As if she had heard the thought, Minna explained the clothing.

 

“These lovely gowns `n such were th' lady of the `ouse'old's `afore she passed on.”

 

“Mr. Tyler was married?” Naomi asked, stricken.

 

Minna snorted at that, “No, dearie.  They were `is mother's gowns.  She was quite th' beauty, that lass.  I might sey ye look a wee bit like `er,” Minna explained as she opened a drawer full of nightgowns, “She died young an' `er `usband `ad trouble getting' over it.  He loved `er somethin' fierce.  Kept all `er clothes as reminder of `er.”

 

“Oh,” Naomi said, feeling that she had pried into Mr. Tyler's life.  Looking at Minna digging through the clothing, she realized what the woman had said, “Wait, won't Mr. Tyler's father mind another woman wearing his wife's clothes?”

“Not bein' on such a lass as yerself.  Try ta keep from `is eyesight, though,” Minna warned with a twinkle in her eyes, “He ever catches ye here an' `e'll most definitely be playin' matchmaker.  `specially wi' ye bein' s' darlin'.  Been tryin' ta get that son o' his married so he c'n get a wee one afore `e passes, too.  Can't imagine why, though, seein' as `e's fit as a goat.”

 

Naomi couldn't help but laugh for the woman's lively personality.  Minna came to her with a bone-colored night gown that had a very wide neckline.

 

“Na peel off that rag, an' we'll get ye int'a nice, clean one,” she said, clicking her tongue when she saw the giant tear down the back of the gown she had been wearing.  Naomi turned her attention to the gown she had been loaned for the night.  It looked as if it would fall off of her shoulders, but when she tried the gown on it held on to her shoulders as if it were made for her.

 

“Well, ma, th' thing fits like yer own.  You're a right pretty lass, if I mey sey so.  Goodness, y're prob'ly tired an' `ere I am talkin' yer ears ta death.  If ya need anathin' dinna worry about bothrin' me, a'right?”

 

“Actually, would you mind terribly if I washed my feet in the tub?  I'm afraid that run in my bare feet wasn't very good for their cleanliness,” Naomi said shyly.

 

Looking down to see that she was indeed barefoot, Minna gasped and said to Naomi, “I canna believe I missed ye bein' barefoot!  Come on inta th' bathroom an' lets get ye nice an' clean `afore ye try ta sleep awey th' night ye've `ad.”

 

On the way to the washroom, Naomi began to feel overcome with the kindness she was being showered with and stopped Minna, “I cannot thank you enough for what you have done for me already,” she stumbled out, on the verge of breaking down, “I would probably be back at that dreadful house with Cokrain right now if you hadn't helped me.  Thank you.”

 

Minna pursed her lips at the emotions waving off the girl.  Turning to her, she patted her hand, “Dinna worry, m'dear.  If anaone c'n keep ye from th' man that ye ran from, Breagan Tyler can.  Ye came ta th' right `ouse,” she assured her before continuing into the washroom.  They finished the task of cleaning the muck off of Naomi's feet and Minna put her into bed with one more insistence that she just call if she needed anything.  With a sigh, and finally feeling quite safe, Naomi closed her eyes and drifted to sleep for the third time that day.

 

How could she have gotten away from him?  Nothing ever went wrong for him, so how did it happen?  He was supposed to have had her by now and this persistent ache would finally be gone.  At least for the moment.  As it was now, she wasn't to be found anywhere.  She had practically vanished.

 

Cokrain was reclining in the bed that was still warm from Naomi's sleeping body, making him even angrier at the fact that she wasn't in it now.  He was sitting with one knee propped and his elbow rested on that knee.  He was holding his pounding head against a cold clutch of ice as he thought darkly about his situation.  His eyes kept drifting over to the broken pieces on the floor by the door that had rendered her freedom from him.  Hank had lost her about five blocks away from the estate…near the Tyler house.  He had disliked Breagan Tyler and his father since he had first arrived here a year ago.  They were very respected in this town, and the women constantly threw themselves at the younger...hell, a few of them at the older.  He always felt that he got the women who'd already been turned down by one or both of them and it never failed to piss him off.  By now he had a severe hatred of that entire family, and this was only one more reason to hate them even more

 

As furious as Caldwell was when Hank returned empty handed, he was impressed with Naomi that she could even get away from him.  He hadn't had a woman yet that had even tried.  The other women he'd been with were all easy to accomplish.  And damn, but she was strong.  She was much stronger than he had expected; giving him quite a fight.  She'd even cut him with that platter she smashed on his face.  Not badly, of course, he thought.  Hardly more than a scratch.  He winced when his head throbbed again, promply reminding him that said cut was worse than he kept insisting it was.  He distantly remembered hoping she would give him a fight, too.  He just hadn't known she would be so hard to restrain.  It would make the bedding of her that much more satisfying, though, of that he was sure.  Of course, she had to be found first.  He would start looking for her at the Tyler house the next morning.  They were probably hiding her away from him, just because it was him she had run from; Breagan was still sore about the invoice he'd received for the supplies that had been sent to the last site.  They had to be hiding her. 

 

 He closed his eyes and tilted his throbbing head back on the headboard of the bed he was reclining on.  It wouldn't be long before he found her, he knew.  He always won.