The Fearless Miss Dinah by Laura Rollins
Prologue
Sir Seth Mulgrave was running out of patience, money, and, most importantly, time.
Which was why, though he sincerely hated dinner parties and the like, he was hosting his third one this month. With any luck, tonight would be the night his youngest daughter, Dinah, would finally set her sights on a man of honor and respectability. Even now, she flitted from one man to another, speaking politely to all but with a slightly disinterested air about her. Would that he could inspire a bit of sense inside that beautiful head.
Lady Blackmore, widow to the late Marquess of Blackmore, ended her conversation with another lady of the ton and moved over to Seth.
“You have invited quite the assortment of gentlemen tonight,” she said low enough only he would hear. “Old, young, widowed, never married.”
“They are not so varied,” he said, equally quiet. “They all have one thing in common.”
“They are respectable?”
He gave a firm nod.
“My good sir, have you taken to snooping into other men’s lives?” she asked with a smile.
“When it comes to finding the right man for one’s daughter, a father cannot overstep.”
“I wonder if Dinah would agree with you.”
His mouth quirked up at Lady Blackmore’s observant question. Certainly, Dinah would not appreciate the lengths he’d gone to ascertain which men still in London would suit. But he didn’t care. Her long-term happiness was far more important to him than whether she liked him at the moment.
Glancing about and making sure no one was paying him or Lady Blackmore attention, he pulled a small bit of paper from his pocket and slipped it into her hand.
“This is the short list as it currently stands.”
“The what?” She looked over the list of names.
“These are the gentlemen Dinah may choose from.”
Lady Blackmore’s eyes widened. “You mean, choose from . . . to marry?”
“But of course.”
She didn’t respond right away; instead, she appeared to be looking at the names on the list over and over again. Did she not agree with some of the names? Had he missed some hushed-up indiscretion?
He leaned toward her. “Should some of the names be removed? Do you know something I do not?”
“Removed?” She sputtered and pushed the list his way. “I only wonder that it is so short.”
“I don’t—I half expected when I began this endeavor for the list to only have a name or two at most, if that many.”
“Tsk, tsk. You mustn’t think so low of your fellow gentlemen.”
Seth glanced about the room. Those in company may all be men, but Seth hardly felt that made them “fellow gentlemen.” While the men he’d invited tonight had been born of the highest stations, Seth himself had only been a tradesman. That was until just over a year ago when he’d saved Lady Blackmore’s life and she’d had him knighted.
“Surely, though,” Lady Blackmore pressed on, “you must realize that a young lady cannot choose from a list. This is not the same as ordering fish for her dinner.”
He lifted a brow. “Are you suggesting I allow her to choose a husband from the likes she’s been holding court with lately?”
Lady Blackmore pursed her lips, resignation in her expression. “Dinah has been making poor choices in company this Season.”
“Precisely.” And Seth wasn’t about to sit back and let his youngest attach herself to a rake, or worse. He didn’t have enough funds to provide anything more than the most paltry of dowries for her, so that kept the gold diggers away at least. But London was filled with enough gentlemen with dishonorable intentions that Seth had not let his guard down once since the Season had begun.
“You could”—Lady Blackmore spoke slowly—“always return next Season. Two girls married in one year is no small feat. Why not return next year and allow Dinah more time? There may even be a better selection.”
“Now who’s talking of men as though they were fish to be ordered?”
“You started it,” she said, no regret at all in her tone.
It was tempting to just leave London. Gads, but he missed home. Missed being comfortable. Here in London, it was always about appearing to be of consequence, and dressing right, and saying the right things, and being seen in company with the right people. It was nonsense, that’s what it was. Seth missed being able to kick back and just be himself.
But he couldn’t go home. Not yet.
“You have suggested that before,” he said, trying and mostly failing to keep the frustration out of his voice, “and my answer has not changed.” The truth was he couldn’t afford to come back next year. Staying in London another six weeks was all he could do. He’d never allowed his accounts to run so low. Everything inside him screamed to escape back home—where the cost of living was dramatically lower—and retrench. But he couldn’t, not yet, no matter how his dwindling accounts caused his stomach to clench.
It might ruin his own reputation, but after Dinah was finally settled, Seth would have no option but to return to trade. He’d made a decent profit when selling his business and had accumulated reasonable savings; most men, knighted as he was, would likely have used such funds to set themselves up for a leisurely life, invested in something stable and secure, or purchased an estate, perhaps, that earned an income. But Seth had not done so. Instead, he’d knowingly spent it all on this one Season. This one opportunity for his three girls to secure a happy and safe future. He didn’t regret it. He knew he never would.
So long as Dinah did the sensible thing and stopped making eyes at every scoundrel in Town and instead set her sights on someone of character. Seth couldn’t stop the huff that broke from him as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“I am sorry,” Lady Blackmore said. “I only wish to help.”
He wasn’t upset with her. She was the only reason his other two girls, Eliza and Rachel, were happily married now to men who were not only honorable but could also see that his daughters had good, healthy lives. Lord Adam Lambert and Mr. Christopher Dunn each would be able to provide far better lives for Seth’s girls than he himself had ever been able to offer them.
It was an intensely bittersweet realization, one Seth wasn’t sure how to fully wrap his mind around as of yet.
“Perhaps I should go ask after dinner.” Lady Blackmore turned to leave.
Seth stopped her with a hand to her elbow. “Dinah is always saying I keep too many of my thoughts inside and it makes . . . some people think I’m upset with them.” Dinah had said as much specifically about Lady Blackmore, but he didn’t feel skipping that particular detail to be an ill-conceived idea. Regardless, he didn’t want Charlotte walking away, believing he was frustrated with her. He and the marchioness had not had a particularly smooth association these past many months. But they had found a way to be friends.
Seth pulled the list out once more. One thing he’d learned that the two of them had in common was a sincere need to help those they cared for. So, though he was not one who asked for help, he figured this once wouldn’t hurt. “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind looking over the list? Making sure none of these men ought to be removed?”
A small smile graced her lips as she took the paper from him. “I am more likely to add to it than to take away.”
He let out a small guffaw. “Don’t be so sure. My investigations may be subtle, but they are most thorough.”
She met his determined gaze with one of her own. “Very well. I would be honored to help you in this compilation.”
He turned his attention back to the many guests milling about his parlor. Knowing Lady Blackmore had not yet grown weary of helping him with his girls was the only thing that ever eased the tension in his chest. With her guiding hand and knowledge of the ton, he felt that the Season might not end in complete disaster after all. No one could deny it; Lady Blackmore was a force to be reckoned with.
“Now,” she said, also facing the room, “you ought to be mingling with your guests, not assessing them from afar.”
“I’ve already finished my assessment of this lot.” None of the gentlemen present would be here if he hadn’t. “What matters now is what Dinah thinks of them.” He looked over at his youngest. She was no longer the little girl in pigtails begging to hear stories of pirates and vagabonds. Now she was quite grown, and he was not the least bit blind to the fact that she was a beauty, exactly the innocent-looking young lady to draw the wrong sort of attention.
“Do not worry overly for her,” Lady Blackmore said. “We’ll find her the right husband, Seth.”
At the sound of his name on her lips, the strangest sensation swept over him. It was as unexpected as it was intense. A warmth in the general vicinity of his chest, a lightness about his head, a headiness . . .
No. He stomped down forcibly on any and all emotions.
He had a name. She had said it. That was all.
Never mind that she’d never said his Christian name before.
It wasn’t as though it meant anything. They’d known each other for quite some time now. It was only natural.
Probably more of a slip of the tongue on her part than anything.
And he certainly wasn’t about to start calling her Charlotte. Even though his girls did. Even though he thought it a lovely name that suited her quite well.
Seth shook his head. The sooner he left London, the better. “You are right,” he said, wishing his mind would dwell on anything other than the single memory of her saying his name. “We will find Dinah a good man and see them wed.” And promptly. “Even if I have to drag her to Gretna Green myself.”
Lady Blackmore—Charlotte—laughed lightly. “I certainly hope it doesn’t come to that.”
He certainly hoped not also. But if that’s what it came down to . . . well, he wasn’t throwing out the option.