The Fearless Miss Dinah by Laura Rollins

Chapter Eighteen

Dinah slowly climbed the grand stairs, the letter she carried crinkling as she also held her skirt in the same hand. Charlotte had written her again. She’d received a letter from Rachel the day before, and one from Eliza two days before then. She’d yet to reply to any of them.

They’d all been so certain that Dinah could convince Henry to love her. They’d all been so certain that this marriage would work.

What was she to write back?

That Henry was, indeed, everything she’d ever hoped for in a husband? That he was considerate, passionate over his convictions, and far too tempting? That he’d gotten her a full-length mirror, saw to it that drinking chocolate was served to her every morning, that he’d even bought her a horse? That, as he’d explained that a stranger had been asking questions about her in Town, his voice had been filled with concern for her?

Or should she write the other side of the truth?

That he never, not once, tried to kiss her? That they slept in separate bedchambers, and there were no signs of that ever changing? That no matter how well they rubbed together, he was stubbornly refusing any romance between them?

Dinah reached the landing and slowed her walk to a stop. No. She probably wouldn’t write any of it. Last time she’d replied to her family, she’d told them how happy she and Henry were. How lucky they felt that they’d found a good match in one another, despite everything. She dropped her skirt and lifted the letter up, not bothering to smooth it.

They didn’t need to worry about her. She’d just have to write them and say the same half-truths she had last time. Hopefully, if she sounded happy enough in her letters, her family wouldn’t feel obligated to visit and check in on her. Which would be a disaster. Because if they came for a visit, Dinah wouldn’t be able to pretend around them.

What was so wrong with her that Henry didn’t even want to kiss her?

Young, boyish laughter echoed about her. Dinah lifted her gaze—but this was not where she expected to be. She turned about. Good heavens, she’d been so lost in thought, she’d climbed an extra flight of stairs without even realizing it. She was near the nursery now, one floor above the family wing.

Dinah tiptoed toward the nursery door, which hung slightly open. Inside, David Jr. seemed to be instructing Little Eddie on how to play soldiers.

“Uncle Jeffrey says you have to stick your chest out,” David Jr. said.

Little Eddie mumbled something in response which Dinah was too far away to hear. Even Baby John gurgled in reply.

What dear boys the three of them were. An ache swelled in her heart. Would she ever know the joy of having children? Henry wasn’t even willing to entertain the idea of a kiss; she had no idea how she was going to convince him they ought to have a baby. Her shoulders drooped, and she moved away from the nursery door until her back was pressed up against the opposite wall.

What was she doing here? Playing at being a happy wife? Charlotte had encouraged her to give it time. And she had. Only, Henry still showed no signs of budging on his “married in name only” stance. She loved that he stood by his beliefs whole-heartedly, she adored that he fought for what he felt was right. But did keeping her at arm’s length really have to be one of them?

He was a good man and had become her dearest friend. They spoke together with ease, they agreed on most things, even if he did like to plan things out to the point of exhaustion and she preferred to jump in feet first. Still, now that she truly knew Henry, she didn’t want any other man.

Dinah wrapped her arms around herself as she listened to the boy’s play for several minutes, her whole soul hurting. She loved her new family, but what if this was all there ever was? A house full of familial love, but none of it truly meant for her?

“Dinah?” Henry’s deep voice came from the stairs.

She didn’t turn and look his way.

“Are you well?” he asked, moving up closer to her.

Of course, he didn’t draw in that close. Dinah’s gaze stayed on his boots as he stood a pace or two away. Too far for him to reach out and take her hand. Too far for her to see deep into his eyes or lean against him should she wish it.

Slowly, she lifted her gaze. She was so tired of waiting and hoping and pretending all was well. She didn’t even try to smile.

“Are you upset by what Lewis learned? Because you must know that I would never let anything happen to you.”

Dinah pushed off the wall and stood straight. She’d tried to be the perfect wife. Supportive, loving, patient. But perhaps the time for being a sweet wife was over.

Henry had a lot of bluster, but he didn’t intimidate her. Not his dark scowls nor his stern dismissals. If playing by his rules, if staying within his boundaries, wasn’t working, it was time she drew on the courage her father instilled in her and face the hard truths.

“Is there another woman you love?”

His eyes grew wide. “What?”

His utter shock at her words gave her some comfort. He didn’t appear guilty, at least.

“What the blazes ever put that in your mind?” he sputtered.

She took a couple of steps toward him, glad he didn’t pull away. “There must be some reason you don’t want me.” Gracious, but admitting the truth hurt. Dinah blinked back a few tears and lifted her chin higher. “Some reason you don’t want me that way.”

Henry broke eye contact. He turned away a bit, running a hand over his chin. “What would you prefer? Different food at breakfast? Perhaps more pin money?”

“You cannot honestly believe more pin money is what I’m asking for.”

The dark, intense expression she’d expected fully changed his features. His scowl was deep, and his eyes seemed to be piercing straight through her. In moments like this, Dinah didn’t wonder why he hadn’t married before now. The genteel ladies of the ton wouldn’t be comfortable with a man like Henry.

She wasn’t a member of the ton, however. Not truly. She’d faced far more coarse and off-putting men than he.

“Is this about Emily?” she asked in a whisper, dreading his reply. “I know she expected an offer from you at one point.” His jaw tightened, but Dinah pushed on regardless. “Do you still love her?” She hadn’t seen anything between either Henry or Emily that made her wonder if there was more than sibling affection between them. However, there had to be some reason Henry refused to be more than friends with her.

Henry cast his gaze upward and let out a gruff sigh. “I never loved Emily. She was the logical choice, that was all. However, as we grew older it became clear we were not well-suited to one another. Shortly after I decided against offering for her, she showed a clear preference for my brother.” He leaned forward at the waist, bringing his head close to hers. “I am very happy that she is only my sister and nothing more.”

Dinah could not deny how relieved she felt at those words. The thought that there was more between Henry and Emily had niggled at the back of her mind for some time now.

“If that is all,” Henry said, turning about.

Dinah took hold of his arm. “You still haven’t answered my question, why don’t—”

“I want you?” Henry turned back toward her and breathed out a sigh. “I know we had a less than desirable start to our marriage, but I have to confess that I find I quite enjoy spending time with you.”

“Please stop acting as though you don’t know what I’m talking about.” It was so unlike Henry to flat-out avoid a topic. He normally tackled problems head-on.

“You will recall, I told you the day we got married not to expect me to fall in love.”

He still wasn’t telling her why, though. Why couldn’t he just open his mouth and say what was wrong with her—or wrong with him—or wrong with them? Dinah pressed a few fingers against her temple. The only other time she’d ever heard anyone in this house dance around a topic so determinedly was the few times she’d asked about the late Lady Stanton.

The realization struck her hard. Dinah lifted her head once more. “Is this about your mother?”

Henry turned away as quickly as though she’d slapped him.

That was an acknowledgment that she’d found the true cause of his pain if ever she’d seen one.

“How did she die?” Dinah asked, her voice soft.

Henry slowly turned her way, opened his mouth, and—

The door to the nursery flung open, and Little Eddie came flying out.

“We gonna out’ide with Mama,” he squealed. David Jr. was just behind him, and then came their nursemaid carrying Baby John.

“Pardon us, my lord, my lady,” the nursemaid said with a curtsy before hurrying down the stairs with the boys.

Dinah and Henry watched them go, the stillness that was left behind all the more empty for those few brief moments when the boys had filled the space with joyful noise. Dinah’s heart ached once more. She wanted that someday, bouncing, bounding, blossoming boys and girls. She wanted to enjoy drinking chocolate with them in the mornings, take them out in the garden in the afternoon, watch them try to avoid eating their greens at dinner, and sing them to sleep at night.

The memory of Henry singing to Adele came back in full force.

She was already married to the perfect man, too. Only, they’d done it backward. They’d hardly met before being forced into a marriage. They’d skipped over the falling in love stage completely. What if that chance was gone for good?

Dinah drew in a breath. No, she wouldn’t give up. No matter how hard it was to push ahead, she would continue on.

“Please, tell me,” she said.

Instead of facing her, Henry strode toward the now empty nursery and moved inside. Dinah followed him, stopping at the door frame and taking in the room. Two large windows allowed plenty of sunlight into the room. A large colorful and cheerful rug covered most of the floor. It was an ideal nursery—rocking horses, a doll house, an adorably small table and chairs.

Henry moved to one of the windows and spoke with his back toward her. “We didn’t lose the late Lady Stanton when she died.”

Dinah didn’t miss that he hadn’t referred to the woman as Mother but by her title instead.

“We lost her,” he continued, “when she left us for a different life.”

Oh.

Dinah moved into the room, carefully stepping over some scattered blocks. Well, that certainly explained a lot. Why her likeness didn’t hang among the other family portraits, why no one spoke of her.

She reached Henry’s side and leaned a shoulder against the window frame where she might look up at his face. “How old were you?”

“Young enough that no one thought to explain matters to me. Old enough to understand them all the same.”

Dinah’s heart broke anew. How she wished she could go back to when he was a boy, wrap her arms around him, and hug him through the hurt. She hadn’t been friends with him then, but she was here now.

Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his shoulder.

He grew stiff at her touch. She could feel the tension inside him from head to toe.

Honestly, he could be such an infant sometimes.

“It’s only a hug, Henry,” she said, not releasing him in the least. “You don’t have to be afraid of it.”

He grunted. But then one arm came around her. After a moment, he even wrapped a second arm around her as well. Dinah smiled. It wasn’t a moment of romance, but it was a moment of closeness. One that did her heart good. She hoped it was the same for him.

“I never told anyone,” he said at length, “but I did try to find her once.”

Dinah wasn’t willing to pull back, even enough to lift her head. “When was that?”

“My father had been steadily growing more and more feeble. The doctor told us we wouldn’t have him for long. When the fever grew worse, he took to crying out for her. So I decided to hire a Bow Street Runner. That’s how I first met Mr. Harding, actually.”

Truly? Who would have guessed? “Did he find her?”

Henry paused for a minute, and when he spoke, his words were drawn out. “Yes. Buried in a cemetery just past the Scotland border.”

How sad. She gave him a gentle squeeze.

Henry relaxed against her slightly. “Father was slipping away so quickly, I chose not to tell him, or anyone. She’d made her decision—another home, another life. I don’t know if she had been happy in that new life or not. But either way, she truly is gone now.”