Romance Fan Fiction / Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Hidden Away ❯ Well, what have we here? ( Chapter 16 )

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Chapter 16
Well, what have we here?

 

 

The days following Minna and Margaret's arrival consisted mostly of the daily monitoring and upkeep of the estate. Naomi was told to stay in the house, obviously, but she didn't mind because now she had Margaret and Minna to keep her company. They spent most of their days simply talking and aiding with light tasks around the house. Naomi learned quite a bit during these times about Breagan's childhood through the two women who had become family to her. She still felt a bit like she was intruding on his privacy and hoped he wouldn't mind Margaret or Minna's relay of him when he was growing up. She deeply enjoyed hearing all she could about the man she had become so attached to. He had been a helpful child; his father needing the support after the death of his wife. He'd still had his chances to be a kid, though, thanks to his little sister and childhood friend, Lancey. Margaret admittedly picked on her brother, given that she was the elder of the two, and she also admittedly enjoyed it.

 

After talking most of the day away on the second day of their reunion, the trio moved into the kitchen and began making the dinner for that night, having given the help the night off. Naomi had put her hair up and was kneading the dough for the dinner rolls while Margaret and Minna busied themselves with the main course and dessert, which Naomi was looking very forward to. She had prepared dinners before, but found it to be infinitely more enjoyable with her present company. She grinned at her thought as she happily continued her task, and that was how Breagan found her. He was accompanied by the other two men of the household, coming into the room close behind him.

 

“Are we enjoying ourselves in here?” Breagan said loud enough for all three women to hear him though he had his attention on Naomi, pleased at her joyous expression.

 

“Immensely,” Naomi answered him shortly as she paused to reach up for a kiss, then resumed her kneading.

 

“She's been tearin' away at th't bread fer a good time, now,” Minna put in as she took the prepared dough and shaped it for baking.

 

“How are we looking?” Margaret asked, referring to their security status.

 

“I'd say you're looking very appetizing,” Lancey replied to her, knowing it would spark her temper. Margaret took the bait, looking directly at him with murder in her eyes.

 

“You know very well what I meant. I can see right through your little game. Don't you dare try and get me any angrier with you, you…you Neanderthal! It's because of you that I never got married and if you think…” Lancey simply stood there watching her tirade with pure enjoyment dancing in his eyes. This, of course, only succeeding in making Margaret even angrier, her black hair flying as she yelled at him, “What are you smiling at? You think it's funny that I want to tear out your eyes?! We'll see how funny it is when I do!” Margaret haphazardly straightened her hair when she finished ripping at him and went back to mixing the meringue for dessert, quite roughly. While she had obviously forgotten her question to her brother, he had not.

 

“Everything is quiet, for now,” he answered, trying to suppress his amusement, “Don't know how long that will last, though, so we'll do another sweep before we all retire for the night.”

 

“So, what are we eating tonight, ladies?” Lancey chimed in, his lighter mood coloring his voice.

 

“Yer eatin' yer teeth if'n yer not careful, Lancey,” Minna informed him, motioning to Margaret who had only increased her fevered mixing and pretended not to have heard him.

 

“Now, Minna, I'm sure that was a sincere question,” Jake supplied, clearly as amused as Lancey at the exchange. Minna looked up at him from her cooking to half-heartedly glare at him.

 

“Were `avin steaks an' rolls…an' maybe a meringue pie fer dessert,” she finally told the men, again looking at Margaret pointedly.

 

“Sorry, Minna…I loose my cool too easily around such jokes,” Margaret put down the meringue she had been mercilessly beating before she ruined it.

 

“Need some help with anything?” Breagan offered.

 

“Nah, it's almost ready…unless ya want ta set th' table?” Minna said.

 

“Yeah, we can do that,” Lancey said before he followed Breagan and Jake into the dining room whistling a light tune.

 

“You do know he only does that to get under your skin, don't you, Margaret?” Naomi commented curiously about Lancey's jesting.

 

“I do…I know he does it only to bait me, but sadly, it works most of the time,” Margaret amended with a sigh, “Of course, I often don't realize it until after I've calmed down a bit,” she added with a somewhat surprised frown.

 

“Jus' terrible! Well, dinner's done. Shall we join th' men?” Minna chimed happily, handing Margaret the main course to set on the table, and effectively ending her train of thought. Naomi fought to hold back her smile at Minna and her antics. No wonder Jake already had a grandchild on the way…Minna was in on it the whole time…

 

With Margaret now out of the room, Naomi narrowed her grinning eyes at Minna, “You sly old woman. You weren't ever on my side, you were meddling as much as Jake was since the beginning,” she accused, “I'm surprised you didn't go straight to Jake and tell him that there was an unattached woman sleeping in the room next to his son…where you put me!” Naomi held up her hand, “Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you meddled, but I might have helped you if I'd known, you know.”

 

Minna simply stared at her with innocence written all over her matronly face, “If I had let Jake know about you, I wouldn't have been able to work my magic,” she said with flair and a barely contained smile.

 

“And now you're doing it to Margaret,” Naomi clicked her tongue, “When will you ever stop?”

 

“I dinna intend ta stop `till I see wee ones, same as Jake,” Minna said haughtily while she looked sideways at her companion at her statement.

 

“Stop looking at me like that. We're getting married, and you'll get `wee ones' soon enough,” The pair laughed as they headed toward the dinning room together.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

After downing the pie, which had turned out okay after all, Breagan and his father went out on the last sweep of the grounds together. They had decided that since there was the very real possibility that Cokrain could show up soon, that they would take turns doing the rounds every couple of hours over the night. The women, and Lancey, cleaned up after everyone in a somewhat somber mood, having been reminded as to why they were all out there in the first place. It seemed to have been easy to forget about it during dinner with the family banter.

 

Once clean-up was finished, Minna looked over to Naomi with a sharp eye.

 

“Ye look dead on yer feet, dearie. Are ye doin' a'right?” Minna asked her, suspicion lining her question.

 

“Oh, I'm a little tired. Probably from kneading that dough in a warm kitchen. I haven't done that in months,” Naomi answered weakly, dusting some more flour off of her dress.

 

She wasn't sure if she wanted to let her condition become common knowledge just yet. She wouldn't have much of a choice soon anyway with Minna just watching for her to show signs of pregnancy. It would be widely known soon enough, since she couldn't very well continue making excuses. For now though, Naomi was enjoying the personal knowledge with Breagan of their child's existence.

 

“Well, you go on ta bed then,” Minna suggested, miraculously accepting the excuse, though she did sound disappointed, “Th' three us'll stey up till yer man returns frum `is patrollin',” she said, shooing Naomi out the door.

 

“We should probably send Lancey with her to check the room first,” Margaret said with merit, yet she closely eyed Lancey's reaction to her veiled taunt.

 

Not taking her bait that easily, he answered her back genuinely, but with a raised brow.

 

“Good idea, Margaret. I'll lead the way, Naomi. Be back in a minute,” he said, winking at Margaret.

 

The way she glared back at that answer was enough for Lancey. Grinning an idiotic grin, he left the room on a path up the stairs with Naomi following beside him.

 

“You truly enjoy goading her like that, don't you?” “Yes, I do,” he chuckled, “She won't admit it, but she enjoys it just as much as I do. I'm sure Minna can tell that she likes arguing with me. She always catches things of that nature before anyone else does. Between you and me,” Lancey paused at the top of the stairs to look back toward the parlor where the subject of their discussion still sat with Minna, “I enjoy being around her, arguments or not,” he told her as he started again down the corridor.

 

Naomi was not entirely surprised to hear that; she'd guessed that herself. But she felt honored that he would surrender such information to her, having only met her a number of days ago. Naomi looked over at him and smiled her understanding as they continued through the hallway to her room.

 

A few moments later, they had arrived at the double doors leading to hers and Breagan's room, “Now, we're only being careful, but I want you to stay back for a minute anyway, okay?” Lancey told Naomi as they stood at the doors.

 

“Sure,” Naomi nodded. She stopped where she was, pulling her hair free from its ties.

 

Lancey opened the door and walked into the room. She heard him gasp only a second before he fell to the floor. Startled, Naomi went to kneel by his side to see if he was okay, her hair falling around her shoulders, “Lancey! Are you all right? Lancey, can you hear me?”

 

No answer. She checked his neck to find that he was only unconscious, but now had a lovely knot forming on his bleeding forehead underneath his shaggy bangs.

 

“Love the dress. Pick it out yourself?” a frighteningly familiar deep and velvety voice came from inside her room. After looking down at the lavender and violet dress she had worn that day, Naomi turned her head to find none other than Cokrain himself standing only a few feet from her, a feral look on his face.

 

She slowly stood up with murder in her eyes, “Not initially. I didn't even like it at first, but I had forgotten about you long enough to like it.” The narrowing of his violet eyes at her verbal jab was barely discernable; the only indication of his irritation.

 

He took a step toward her, “You are a challenging woman to find when you want to hide from someone, Prize,” he said to her.

 

“I have a name,” she said unevenly, trying desperately to quell the fear that was mounting inside her, and she was resisting the urge to back away from him as he prowled closer toward her. She found that it was no easier to be under his intense wine-colored gaze now than it was a month ago, “And I am not yours anymore…nor was I ever. How did you get in here?”

 

“Now, why should I tell you that?” he said, dropping a miniature silver statue, which Naomi assumed is what had knocked Lancey out, “And yes, you are mine,” he advanced on her a couple more steps to stop directly in front of her, “You were mine ever since I told your sniveling uncle to give you to me. But then, he didn't have a choice, did he? Poor fool killed your parents for the money and now he's a pauper,” he supplied, finding that he didn't get the reaction out of her that he'd hoped for at that statement, “What, you already knew?” his voice slithered calmly as he ran a finger over her cheek.

 

Naomi attempted to keep her face and voice impassive at his touch, “I knew. He didn't try to hide his happiness of my parents' death which gave him the estate. The obvious answer was that he had started that fire,” she said, fury laced through her words. She was lightly confused as to how he knew so much about her until he spoke again, a sick grin on his handsome features.

 

“Oh, but you see, he didn't start that fire which killed you parents…I did,” he flooded with excitement as he watched her face change from confused to angered shock, “Didn't know that one, did you? I must tell you, had I but known that the little girl in that house would grow to such a woman, I would have demanded father to give you to me before I carried out his bidding. I'm pleased that you didn't perish in the fire as well, Miss Naomi Foster.”

 

Naomi only stood there for a few moments, grounded to the floor in a daze at what he'd just told her before she finally came to, “You started that fire?!” Shock and unbridled fury fused as it all started falling into place, “That was the debt my uncle owed! He owed you for killing my parents for him, and that's why I was supposed to be a stupid payment to you!” she ground out in her rage before ducking for the miniature statue that was now on the floor next to her feet where Cokrain had dropped it. Statue in hand, she stood up in front of him, “Now I wish that the blow I had dealt you with that awful platter so long ago had killed you,” she stated plainly.

 

“Do you aim to hit me over the head again, Naomi?” he leaned closer, his short blonde hair glinting white in the lamplight, “You know, I had a headache that wouldn't go away for days after you ran away from me…along with a few other aches that have since gotten worse,” he said, his meaning clear in his eyes, “You really are quite stunning when you are mad, Prize.”

 

Naomi was so furious; she could hardly focus on him, regardless of his proximity. She prepared to defend herself, and was refusing to give in to her fear by focusing on her anger as she gripped the statue tighter at again hearing his new pet name for her, “I am not your prize, Cokrain. Keep away from me!” she shouted, holding out her free hand when he made to advance on her more.

 

“It doesn't work that way,” he said, sounding rather amused, “And I told you to call me Caldwell,” he reached out to grab her, and she swung the statue at his head. He surprised her by ducking to avoid getting hit with it. With Naomi open from her failed attack, he easily seized her; turning her with one arm around her chest, and the other roaming around her mid-section, He pulled her to him roughly, and purred into her ear.

 

“I have every intention of getting you planted firmly beneath me, bringing me very close to you. And once I rid us of the Tyler family, I'll keep doing that for as long as I have a wanting for you,” he paused, “You will learn that there will probably never be a day when I won't,” he added, holding her fast against him, and feeling out her still-taut stomach beneath his wandering palm, “Now, if you will, I need you on the bed for this,” he said, walking her toward the bed. He spun her around in his arms, putting her face right in front of his. He watched her furious face hungrily as he ran a hand down her arm and calmly took the statue from her hand.

 

“You can't keep that, Naomi,” he said smoothly with a nip to her lips, throwing the statue well out of her reach while he continued to watch her. Naomi kept glaring at him in his eyes, trying to wriggle free from his iron hold. Her fear was still trying to get the better of her and nearly seized her for good as she felt that his hands had traveled to her back, slipping the buttons of her gown through their holes. She kept fighting him as he attempted to work the violet gown from her body.

 

When she was only in her slip from the waist up, Naomi finally got in a good kick, then pushed; soundly shoving him back a good two feet. She watched as he tried regaining his balance after her shove, only to topple over Lancey's booted foot, sending him to the floor. Naomi wasted no time in running around him and out of the door as quickly as she could move, carrying the bodice of her gown in her arms, and her hair whispering around her shoulders. She didn't get too far before she heard him coming after her down the hallway. He snatched her in about the waist and she could feel his breath on her neck and shoulders as he held her fast to himself with a deep chuckle at her attempt at escape.