The Fearless Miss Dinah by Laura Rollins
Chapter Sixteen
Henry itched the entire way home. Getting his hair cut had never gone so poorly. He supposed that’s what he got when he allowed the barber’s apprentice to do his hair. He’d been loath to get his hair cut at all, but now that there was no chance he’d be infiltrating another smuggling ring as a spy, there was no reason to keep it so very long.
“How is that, my lord?” his valet asked, indicating the water in the bathtub before him.
“Deep enough,” Henry said, scratching at the back of his neck and then trying to reach down farther toward the top of his back. “Help me disrobe.” The sooner he could get in the tub and wash away the last bits of hair, the better.
The moment he got into the tub, he splashed water over his shoulders and down the back of his neck. The relief was instant and soothing. Henry closed his eyes and finally relaxed.
“Better, my lord?” his valet asked with a bit of a smirk.
“Much.” He peeked an eye open. “Leave my robe where I can reach it, and then you can go. I think I’ll soak for a bit.”
“Very good, my lord.”
Henry shut his eyes and rested against the back of the tub. He needed to decide on the best next course for him to take. He’d been quite angry when he’d first learned that all his carefully cultivated connections were no longer any good. But even since his anger had calmed, he had yet to decide what was to be done now.
Like every time he shut his eyes, his mind immediately went to Dinah.
He squeezed his eyes shut and willed the image of her blonde curls and intoxicating smile to leave him be.
Thoughts of her were exactly why he hadn’t made any progress these past several weeks.
She’d pushed her way yet further into his life, this time by filling his mind to the point of excess.
Henry shifted about in the tub and placed a wet hand over his eyes. Drops of water ran down his cheeks and dripped off his chin. He would not think of her now. Or of how she was constantly throwing off his plans. He’d planned to meet with his man of business the other morning, only to have Dinah declare over breakfast that she wished to take Emily and the children to the Royal Menagerie, and would he please join them? He’d planned to wear his dark green jacket day before last, only to have his valet inform him that Dinah had it in her possession—something about needing to show it to a modiste who was coming that day. Why she needed his jacket, he still had no idea. He’d planned to eat chicken last night for dinner only to learn, much to his surprise and Aunt Beatrice’s frustration, that Dinah had spoken with the chef and changed the meal to beef.
And here he was, yet again, thinking only of her, when he truly ought to be making plans.
Plans that Dinah would undoubtedly overthrow.
How did a man deal with a wife who was determined to leave everything in upheaval? Henry had always lived his life by a plan. He thought things through, he considered all the angles, he determined the best course to take, he followed through on the plan. It was a characteristic of his that had only led to good things. The farms at his various holdings had never been so profitable. His connections here in Town never so beneficial.
And then came along Dinah.
With her curls and smiles and laughter and whims and . . .
Blast! Henry dug his fingers into his forehead. He was still only thinking of her.
A knock sounded from the door. It would seem his valet believed he’d had enough time in the tub. But he hadn’t. Not by half. Not if he was going to make any progress with his thoughts.
“What is it?” he called, not wanting to grant the man entry unless he had to.
The door opened regardless.
“Henry?”
Gads, that was not his valet. Henry grabbed his robe and tugged it on first one arm and then the other. He got it wrapped around his middle just as Dinah came into view. She stopped the minute she saw him, her hand going to her mouth. She took in the sight before her . . . and burst out laughing.
Henry scowled. He secured the tie of his robe around himself and stood abruptly. A small wave splashed over the edge of the tub at his sudden movement and the hem of his robe smacked against his leg, a most soggy sound. Henry became acutely aware of the way water dripped down his face, and there were dozens of what felt like tiny rivers coursing down his legs.
“You wished to see me?” he asked, keeping his voice level.
Dinah’s eyes only grew wider. “I certainly accomplished that, didn’t I?”
Henry ground his jaw. This was exactly what he’d been thinking about before. The woman had no ability to stay out of another’s business. Everything he tried to do, she changed for him. It was exasperating.
He lifted a foot, but then stopped. If he stepped out of the tub, he’d only leave a far larger puddle on the floor. So he remained standing where he was, gentle waves slapping against his shins.
“Was there a reason you wished to see me?” he tried.
Her gaze dropped from his face to his chest, where his robe hung a bit open. The heat and yearning he felt under her gaze were as unwanted as they were undeniable. Hang the puddles. Moving carefully, so as not to make a bigger fool of himself by slipping, Henry stepped out of the tub and walked over to Dinah.
“What did you wish to say?” he asked now standing less than an arm’s length from her.
He expected her to wither under his glower, to wilt and retreat as he towered over her.
Instead, she simply said, “You cut your hair.” She brushed a few fingers over his temple, softly teasing the shortened hair there.
Her touch left a trail of warmth, one that spread through the whole of him faster than a fire across dry grass. It made him aware of how close they stood, how soft her lips looked.
Suppose he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her soundly? Might that not prove the best way to bring her to her senses?
Only, Henry suddenly felt sure that if ever he kissed Dinah, he might not be able to stop.
Instead, he remained motionless and simply said, “What in the blazes made you think you could simply waltz in here, uninvited?”
Far from looking chastised, Dinah only pursed her tempting lips and looked up at him, all infuriating self-assurance. “We are married, are we not?”
“In name only.”
Her eyes rounded, and she grew quite still. Her jaw tightened, even as the corners of her mouth turned down.
It seemed his words had finally hit their mark.
Dinah’s fire and confidence slipped off her, as though it had only been a shawl she’d been wearing. One that now lay at her feet, motionless.
Dinah drew in a deep breath, and when she next looked at him there was none of the same flirtatious heat but only a firm resolution. “I had an idea, and I thought it best to tell you immediately. However, I am sure it can wait long enough for you to become presentable. I will be waiting for you in the sitting room.” With shoulders back and head held high, she spun on her heel and moved toward the door, slipping back through it without a backward glance.
He wished her back the moment she was gone.
He hated that he’d been the one to smother the fire in her eyes. But what else could he do? Henry rang for his valet, then surveyed the watery mess that was all over the floor. He was no fool. This was how it would always be. She may barge into his life, cause his pulse to race and his whole being to yearn for her, but in the end, he’d be left standing about in a mess.
Dinah had already held on longer than he’d expected. But the time would soon come. Henry’s bluntness, the drive with which he lived every day of his life, the way he tackled each problem as though the wellbeing of his family depended upon his success—Dinah would see it eventually, then Henry wouldn’t have to smother the fire in her eyes. She would simply stop looking at him that way. She would find him too much just as everyone else did.
It was best she stop now because if she continued to look at him that way for much longer, he wasn’t at all sure he’d recover when she finally did leave.
For the first time ever, not only did he fear taking the fire out of her eyes, Henry felt certain that when she left, she’d steal his as well.