The Fearless Miss Dinah by Laura Rollins
Chapter Nine
Dinah opened the door that led to the shared sitting room between hers and Henry’s individual bedchambers. After Henry had so abruptly left her after Mr. Harding’s and Adele’s visit, there had been very little to do other than dress for dinner.
She’d been in full earnestness when she’d told Henry she wasn’t afraid to meet his family, many though they apparently were. What did they think of her and Henry’s marriage? The wedding had happened so fast, Dinah hadn’t even met Henry’s family before this. He’d told her earlier that they had mixed feelings. What precisely did that mean? She supposed she’d learn for herself soon enough.
Drawing herself up, she took in the room about her. This was her home now. She stood in a long and narrow space divided into two distinct sitting areas. There was a settee and a couple of small chairs all comfortably placed about a rug on the nearest side of the room; then there were a couple of wingbacks sitting to either side of the hearth on the far side of the room. Between the two areas, directly in the center, rested a courting bench.
It was a small piece of furniture but perfectly situated for resting between the other two sitting areas. With its S-shaped back, and a seat nestled into each of the curves, one could choose to sit in one seat and face the settee and first cluster of chairs or sit in the other seat and face the hearth and wingbacks.
Dinah ran a few fingers over the small bench as she walked by. Its unusual curved back seemed a fitting representation of her life just now, twisted in a way that was both unexpected and unnatural.
And what had Henry meant when he’d said he would never come to love her? At first, she’d scoffed at his words. Brushed them aside. But now, the longer the words sat with her, the more she felt their weight, and the more uncertainty wriggled its way into her. This marriage may not have been what either of them had hoped for, but surely they could make the most of it. Surely they could see their way toward a loving and passionate marriage. Couldn’t they?
Then again, such a life required two willing parties. Dinah was one, but she couldn’t force Henry to be the other. Dinah bit down on her lower lip; what had she gotten herself into?
Pulling her hand back and away from the courting bench, Dinah drew herself up. Whatever the challenge, she was equal to it, she was certain. She would simply leave all her twisting and turning concerns here with the bench and get herself ready for dinner. They both—her thoughts and the bench—were a bit too warped for her liking. They could just keep one another company for all she cared.
She had a family to meet, after all.
Dinah was dressed and ready in quick order. Indeed, as she hurried down the stairs and toward the drawing room to wait for dinner, she was quite pleased she had not only readied so quickly but had done so quite successfully. Her hair was pulled into a gentle chignon at the base of her neck, and her dress was a most flattering cream with a dusty-rose overlay. She felt pretty; right now, the confidence such a feeling afforded her was much needed.
There were many voices coming from the drawing room, all of which were male. Henry had mentioned his aunt was currently gone, visiting an old friend. But his brother’s wife would surely be in attendance. Dinah paused at the door and smoothed down her skirts. She’d done far more intimidating things than this, and she’d done so with head held high and her smile in place. That combination often proved best when needing to win someone—or many someones—over.
A footman opened the door for her, and Dinah swept into the room.
Instantly, all conversation stopped.
Every eye swung her direction.
Indeed, it was a room mostly full of men. Some old, like the two gray-haired gentlemen sitting in one corner with large cups of brandy in their hands. Some young, like the three children all huddled around the knee of a man who Dinah could only assume was their father.
Then there were all the men in between. Two standing by the window and looking almost as though they were the same person; they had to be the twins Henry had spoken of. The father of the young boys, who didn’t look nearly as much like Henry as she’d expected. And, of course, Henry himself.
Dinah offered the room a curtsy. “Good evening.”
No one responded nor even moved.
She kept her smile up but could feel the tension of the room humming about them all, as though filling the silent room with its own voice and words.
Finally, Henry stood and walked over to her. “Take a turn with me, and I shall introduce you.”
Dinah nodded her consent. Perhaps once introductions were made, things would ease between her and them all. One could only hope.
“If you don’t mind,” she whispered as they walked, “I ask that you introduce me as Dinah and not Lady Stanton.” Though she’d spoken most softly, in the stillness of the room, she wasn’t at all sure everyone had not heard her.
His expression turned slightly harder at her words. Henry stopped their small walk after only two steps and looked at her most pointedly. “Are you regretting the name already?”
He was testing her. At least, that’s how his stare made her feel. Testing her to see if she would openly disparage his name in front of his entire family. In her momentary silence, Henry’s gaze only intensified. It pierced into her, as though burrowing deep, intent on finding any weakness, any fear that lay hidden inside her.
Dinah’s lips only ticked up in response; if he thought he could intimidate her into giving up on making this new life her home, he was sorely mistaken.
“On the contrary,” she said, a bit louder this time. “When we meet your friends and associates, I will insist you introduce me as Lady Stanton. But here”—she waved a hand toward the room—“we are all family, and as such, I should like to be known as Dinah, for such is what my family has always called me.”
Far from appearing pleased that she’d trumped his challenge, his glare only darkened. Wordlessly, he led her first to the two gentlemen with glasses of brandy. Both eyed her with something like scowls as she and Henry walked their way.
“Evening, gentlemen,” Henry began. “May I make known to you my wife.” She was impressed he said the words with no hesitancy or obvious discomfort. She wasn’t at all sure she could have done the same. “You may call her Dinah.” Then Henry addressed her. “This is my uncle, Mr. Jeffrey Thrup, and his good friend, Mr. Wilson.”
Dinah curtsied as the two men inclined their heads in her direction.
“I am very happy to make both your acquaintances,” Dinah said.
Mr. Wilson openly scoffed and took another long swig of his drink.
Mr. Thrup eyed her and then said loudly, “This reminds me of a time”—everyone in the entire room groaned, though Dinah couldn’t say why—“when I was in France.” As he spoke, his eyes wandered to some spot on the distant wall, best Dinah could figure, and his tone turned nearly sing-song. “War raged all around. Smoke filled the air. The cries of men and horses, too.”
“Uncle,” the man nearest the children warned, “I am sure . . . this lady”—he seemed to struggle to call Dinah anything more than that even as he motioned toward her with a hand—“has no more desire to hear of such things than my wife does.”
Mr. Thrup held up a hand. “I beg your pardon, David. And yours as well, Dinah.”
She liked that he’d taken to her name. Of a truth, the smile he was giving her now made her think that perhaps in him, she might find a friend.
“Now.” His gaze returned to the distant spot on the far side of the room, and Dinah heard more than one groan from the room. “As I was saying. The night dragged on. I fought off multiple attacks—the details ofwhich I shall not go into at this time.” He shot the father, David, a sideways scowl. “We shall just say that I found myself without a gun, without a knife or weapon of any kind, still pushing farther into the city. Far outstriding the other soldiers, I made my way nearer to where the enemy’s commanding officer was holed up. I knew if I could see to it he was”—Mr. Thrup coughed slightly—“unable to continue giving orders, the enemy’s army would fall into disarray and our men could claim victory. So, quiet as could be, I snuck into the building.”
Mr. Thrup’s gaze once more focused on Dinah, and from her, it flitted to the others in the room. He leaned forward in his seat, his hands moving as he spoke, as though he were half-telling, half-reenacting the scene. “From shadow to shadow I slipped. I searched every room, but it wasn’t until I made my way up to the third floor that I found the man I wanted to see. He was being guarded by two men, each easily twice my size. But I lured them out by making a noise in the hallway and then hiding when they came to investigate.”
“Don’t skip how you hid,” one of the two young men said from near the window.
“Stop encouraging him,” David said, even as his boys sat with rapt attention, hanging on Mr. Thrup’s every word.
Mr. Thrup smiled, a most delighted turn of his lips. “I pressed my hands and feet against either wall of the hallway and shimmied my way up. The two soldiers passed directly beneath me. Never once thought to look up.”
“Blasted idiots, the French,” Mr. Wilson said more to his glass of brandy than to any of them. “The whole lot of them. Vile idiots.” The statement was said with so much vehemence that, though spoken softly, it stilled the room. Dinah shifted about as she stood before him.
“As I was saying.” Mr. Thrup seemed determined to see his story through to the end. “I made it into the room with the commanding officer and after . . . uh, dispatching him, the two guards showed up, blocking the one and only doorway out of the room. I was trapped, without weapons and without help. Other than the door, there was only a single window. Without time to think, I ran for it. I took the impact of the glass with my shoulder. So long as I live, I’ll never forget the sound of it shattering all around me or the feel of sailing through the air with so many shards. As luck would have it, a wagon full of hay was passing directly below me just as I fell.”
“Of course it was,” Henry grumbled softly beside her, so low, in fact, she doubted anyone but herself had heard.
Who could blame him for the sentiment? Mr. Thrup’s story was growing more outlandish by the minute.
“I landed directly in the center of the hay, slid off the wagon, and darted into a nearby alley between two closely spaced buildings.”
“Thank you, Uncle,” Henry said quickly, probably hoping to interject himself before the man started up another tale, “for that fascinating story. Now, if you will excuse us, I must continue the introductions.” He turned her away almost before Dinah could say how pleased she was to meet them.
Mr. Thrup took hold of her hand before she left. “Find me sometime when these bores aren’t about, and I’ll tell you the story of how I met my wife, the most beautiful Spanish senorita to ever walk this wide earth.”
Mr. Thrup gave her another nod as Dinah walked away while Mr. Wilson continued to all but ignore her.
Henry next brought them to stand before the father with the young boys, whom he introduced as his brother, David. She’d seen differences between Henry and his brother from across the room. But now that she stood directly before him, the differences were so great she rather wondered that the two men were related at all. Where Henry was dark of hair, this man had light brown hair which curled tightly around his face. Where Henry’s eyes were dark, almost calculating and certainly guarded, this man’s eyes were open and a light green. Where Henry hardly ever smiled, this man seemed quite happy to meet her.
After the appropriate curtsy and bow, Henry continued to introduce the children, David Jr., Little Eddie, and Baby John, the last of whom currently sat on his father’s lap.
“You will have to excuse my wife, Emily,” David said. “I’m afraid she sat rather too long in the sun today and is currently in her room with a ghastly headache.”
That was unfortunate. Dinah had rather been looking forward to making the woman’s acquaintance. “Do let her know that I was sorry not to have met her tonight and that I hope she recovers soon.”
David tipped his head in a show of understanding.
After leaving his brother and his three nephews, Henry escorted Dinah toward the window and the two cousins there.
“Let me guess,” Dinah said as they approached. “You two must be Miles and Oliver.” Best she could guess, the two were fifteen or sixteen in age. Their complexions were darker than anyone else’s here, but when they smiled, the expression looked exactly like Mr. Thrup’s.
“Henry spoke to you of us then, did he?” the taller of the two asked.
The shorter one, who was also a bit broader in the shoulders, folded his arms and lifted his chin in as cocky a grin as Dinah had ever seen. “The real question is, which of us is Miles and which of us is Oliver?”
Henry glared down at the young men. “Don’t be uncivil—”
“It’s all right.” Dinah cut him off with a hand on his arm. “I’m rather good at this sort of game. But,” she said, addressing the twins, “if I am to play, you must grant me three questions.” More still, joining in such an antic may help her find her footing among Henry’s family.
The young men seemed pleased and shared a look between themselves.
“Very well,” the shorter one said. “Ask your three questions.”
“Which of you is Miles?” Henry asked in a dry tone.
Dinah elbowed him. “Don’t steal our fun.” She turned back to the twins, acutely aware of the entire room watching her. “First question, who’s better on horseback, Miles or Oliver?”
“Oliver,” both young men said in unison.
To their credit, neither gave any more away than that. Dinah had been sure Oliver, whichever one he was, would at least show a bit of his pride at being labeled as better than his twin. Perhaps she just hadn’t asked the right question.
“Second question,” she said, watching them even closer, “who’s more handsome, Miles or Oliver?”
Much to her surprise, they once more answered in unison. “Miles.”
Only, this time, she caught the sound of self-assurance in one voice, even as it mingled with the frustration coming from the other. The only problem was, the two young men’s voices sounded so much the same, she hadn’t been able to tell who had voiced the self-assurance and who had voiced the frustration.
Dinah pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes, and studied the two young men. They both just smiled back. Their smiles were so identical, they gave nothing away either.
“Very well.” Dinah drew herself up. She had one last card to play. It was a bit uncouth, so she’d hoped to avoid using it. But if there was anything that would get these boys to slip up and tell her who was who, it would be this. Though Dinah desperately wanted Henry’s family to like her, she found she simply couldn’t back down now, no matter the cost.
“Who’s better with the ladies?” Dinah asked, waggling her eyebrows.
There was the sound of one of the two older gentlemen choking on their brandy and David let out a slightly choked chuckle. Dinah didn’t dare look at Henry, partially because she was watching the twins too carefully, and partially because she wasn’t in all that big of a hurry to learn what her new husband thought of her brazen ways.
“Miles,” both young men said.
But this time—oh ho—this time, the shorter one slipped. His lips ticked upward, and his eyes reflected the same self-assurance she’d heard moments ago.
She had them.
The taller of the two—Oliver—looked from Dinah to his twin, then punched the other young man hard on the back of his shoulder. “You gave it away, you bacon-brained idiot.”
The shorter one scowled up at his brother. “I did not.”
“I’m afraid you did,” Dinah said. “But I must say, I am very pleased to meet you, Miles.” She turned to the taller twin. “And you as well, Oliver.”
They both bowed, even while muttering insults at one another. Dinah hazarded a glance about the room. Mr. Thrup tipped his glass her way, as though saluting her success; Mr. Wilson still stared down at his brandy as though it alone was in the room; David’s expression had changed somehow, as though he were less certain now that he approved of her presence among his family; and Henry . . . Dinah turned and looked up at his face. He appeared as uptight and displeased as he had that first night she’d been taken by the smugglers. Was he truly so set against her meeting his family? Becoming part of his family?
“We’ve all been agog to know,” Miles started, “how on earth did you get our cousin to agree to marry you?”
“He’s always been so bent on forever remaining a bachelor,” Oliver added.
Henry stiffened beside her. Had he not told them the details, then? If not, what had he told them?
“It is a bit of a story,” Dinah hedged.
“Then tell Miles and Oliver,” Mr. Thrup called from the other side of the room. “They’re the only two in this whole house who know how to appreciate a good story.”
She very well couldn’t tell them of the first time she saw Henry—that had been just after she’d been caught by the smugglers while he was acting as a spy among their ranks.
“It’s all exactly as I said before,” Henry interjected, probably sensing her uncertainty. “I met Dinah as she was out walking at night and offered to see her home. She’d fallen from her horse and was in a bit of a bad way.”
Yes, of course, the story they’d told when they’d first arrived back at her father’s townhouse. “Unfortunately, my father had company that night and when we arrived alone, together, and me in a state of dishevelment . . .” She shrugged the rest off as though it really were nothing more than a silly misunderstanding, one that hadn’t had disastrous, life-altering repercussions for them both. A part of her was glad, though, to have this piece of the conversation out of the way. It would have been far worse if they’d chosen to tiptoe around the topic for weeks instead.
Miles scrunched up his nose. “Ah, we were hoping it was something rather more entertaining than what Henry made it out to be.”
“Such as what?” Dinah said, almost too afraid to ask.
“Never mind them,” Mr. Thrup said. “We’d only speculated, since Henry was gone for so long on business, if you two hadn’t met at a watering hole of some kind or another.”
“I’m pretty sure the term you used,” Oliver said, “was ‘whirlwind romance.’”
Dinah’s cheeks grew hot. She supposed it was a natural assumption. Henry returned after four months away on what they had been told was for business regarding one of his holdings and announced that he was getting married in a few days’ time.
Understandable though it was, the family’s assumption still pricked uncomfortably at Dinah, reminding her that there was no romance at all between her and Henry and he was set against there ever being any.
“No,” she said, her voice losing a bit of its strength. “Nothing so exciting as that.”
“And now,” Henry said, drawing the word out almost into a growl, “if you all have nothing else unseemly to say to Dinah, I believe it is nearly time for dinner to be—”
“Stanton!” A shrill, distinctly feminine voice cut through the room.
Dinah whirled about at the sound, as did Henry. There before them stood a woman of indeterminate years, attired in a very elegant traveling dress. A large bonnet framed her face, with several feathers stretching from it. Though wrinkles spread from her eyes and mouth, the expression thereon was one of a woman with as much fortitude now as she’d ever had before.
“I demand to know the meaning of this.” She marched forward, eying Dinah with open hostility.
“Aunt Beatrice,” Henry said, “this is Dinah, second daughter of Sir Seth Mulgrave. Dinah, this is my aunt, Miss Beatrice Thrup.”
“How do you do?” Dinah asked as she curtsied.
Henry’s aunt didn’t so much as acknowledge the introduction. “I have raised you,” she spoke directly to Henry, “since you were seven. I have been by your side, whether you were here or at one of your other holdings, for nearly every day since then. I have guided you. I have taught you. I have seen to your needs. And this is how you repay me?” She was nearly screaming. “I leave for a month to see an old friend and it is then, while I am away, that you get married?”