The Fearless Miss Dinah by Laura Rollins

Chapter Twenty-One

Henry had been right to summon some manservants to help him. In the end, it required himself and three others to finally corner the rat and catch it. It gave Henry a warm, pleasing feeling to know that he could now report to Dinah that her room was once again devoid of rodents. Would she thank him with an embrace? With a kiss?

After all the servants had left, he moved to the door, blankets still peeking out from beneath, and knocked softly.

“Dinah?”

No noise.

“The rodent has been seen to. It’s safe to come out again.”

Still nothing.

Henry tried the knob. She hadn’t locked the door. He pushed against it, the blankets proving little resistance. He stepped in. The fire burned low, casting only the smallest bit of light into the room. Dinah wasn’t hard to find, as she’d pushed one of his wingbacks quite near the fire and was currently curled up on it. Her legs were tucked beneath her, her hands holding onto the armrest, and her eyes watching him closely.

“Did you get it?”

Henry nodded. “You will never again see that rodent.”

She shut her eyes and sagged against the chair. “Thank goodness.”

The nearer to her he walked, the more he became aware of just how close to the fire she sat. “Why the devil are you sitting so near the fire on a hot summer night?”

“You don’t think I was going to allow that rat the opportunity to sneak up on me in the dark, do you?”

She was sitting in the most well-lit spot in the room.

Henry pulled the matching wingback over closer to her, but not quite so close to the fire. He was already warm from the exertion of chasing and catching the rat. “He won’t be sneaking up on you tonight or ever.”

“Please tell me there aren’t other rats in the house.”

“He was the first—and the last.” Hopefully.

“Good.” She settled a bit on the chair, relaxing but still unwilling to put her feet on the floor. “I should warn you now. If seeing rats here at Angleside Court becomes a habit, I shall insist we remove ourselves to one of the other holdings.”

Henry rested back in his seat. He rather liked the way she’d said we. “They bother you that much?”

“A rat found its way into my bed one night shortly after my mother had passed. It crawled across my legs and bit me multiple times before I was able to kick it away.” Dinah visibly shuddered. “I have never been able to tolerate them since.”

He’d never seen this side of her before. He loved the fearlessness he always saw from Dinah, but seeing her huddled up on his wingback, in his bedchamber . . . well, it was yet another reason he needed space from her. Yet another moment that threatened to draw him in so deeply, he would never recover when she eventually left him.

He stood. “Your room is once more safe. I hope you sleep well.”

She looked up at him, blinking. “I was in full earnestness before. I’m sleeping in here tonight.”

He ground his jaw, wishing it would grind away the heat that flooded through him at her statement. “I don’t think that is a good idea.”

She scowled at him.

He scowled back.

If she thought she could beat him at his own dark-look game, she was sadly mistaken.

Dinah slowly stood from the large chair, inching her way closer to him, her glower growing deeper with every second. She stopped directly in front of him, close enough that he could smell the rose scent that always lingered behind her. Her scowl intensified until her nose scrunched up and her lips were not but a tiny, pink pucker.

Henry placed his hands on his hips and bent in low, simply to show her he wasn’t backing down. Not at all because he was desperately wishing the last few inches of space between them would disappear completely.

Dinah darted away. Before he knew what was happening, she was sitting atop his bed, tugging off her slippers, tossing them aside, and pulling his blankets over her legs.

“If you want me out of this room, then you’ll have to pick me up and remove me yourself. And since I happen to know you’re too much of a gentleman to do so, I suggest you make yourself at home in that room over there.” With no more than that, she plopped her head down atop his pillow and snuggled in beneath the bedding.

Henry had to blink a few times to dispel the magic she’d seemed to weave over him with her nearness.

He ran a hand over his face. “You’re planning to sleep fully dressed?” She was still in the nearly-off-the-shoulder dress she’d worn to dinner.

“I’m considering it an extra layer of protection between me and any other rats you may have missed.”

He’d never met someone so headstrong as she. “I didn’t miss any other rats because he was the only one.”

“I can’t hear you—I’m trying to sleep.” With that, she took a second pillow and plopped it down over her head.

Henry turned toward the door, but his gaze was instantly pulled back to the sight of her hair spilling out from between the two pillows.

Dinah lay in his bed. Her petite form now made an alluring curve within the blankets—the blankets that, before tonight, had always warmed him.

Lud, he could not be thinking about bed and warmth and Dinah all at the same time. Henry strode purposefully toward the door that connected his room with the sitting room. Perhaps he ought to see if one of the beds in the guest wing was made up; he needed as much space between himself and Dinah as he could manage.

“Henry?”

He stopped, his hand on the door knob.

When she spoke, her voice was far softer than before. “You are certain there are no other rodents about?”

He nodded but didn’t look back at her. “Quite certain.” He turned the knob and opened the door.

“Henry,” she called again. “Your bench along the foot of the bed is quite soft.”

Slowly his head swung in her direction. Surely she was not suggesting what he thought she was.

Dinah looked at him, her eyes wide and her mouth set at an uncertain angle. Her fingers fidgeted with the blankets around her.

“I am used to sharing a room . . . and . . . I don’t want to be alone just now.”

Henry rested a hand against the door frame. He ought to tell her to call her abigail. He certainly could ring for the maid himself. And yet, even while listing all the reasons this was a bad idea in his mind, Henry found himself stalking back over toward the bed. Without looking at her, he tore off first his cravat and then his jacket and waistcoat. The jacket hit the floor with a clunk. Her hair brush—it was still in his jacket pocket. That stupid hairbrush had started this whole unpleasant evening.

Well, unpleasant maybe wasn’t the right word. Frustrating or even troublesome was more accurate. Sitting atop the bench near the foot of the bed, which was not nearly as soft as she made it out to be, Henry tugged off his boots. Reaching behind him, he found the spare blanket folded at the foot of his bed—his bed, not hers—and pulled it toward himself.

Laying down, he spread the extra blanket over him and, with hand tucked beneath his head, Henry closed his eyes.

“Thank you, Henry.” He heard her settle deeper into the bed.

The simple words were far from an embrace, even further from a kiss. Yet, they warmed him all the same. Henry pressed his forehead into a scowl, though he didn’t open his eyes. His situation with his wife had finally gone too far. He was done with this. Done with waiting for her to leave, struggling to ignore all he was feeling.

His aunt may have lived with him for over two decades, but she’d always made it clear she’d stayed because he was her responsibility, not as an act of love. The only two women who had ever truly cared for him were Emily and his mother. Both of them had made it clear they no longer did.

If Dinah was going to leave him, as other women had, she might as well get about doing it.

Perhaps all she needed was to see exactly the type of man she’d married. Not that he’d been hiding who he was from her; indeed, a small part of his mind couldn’t help but acknowledge that he’d been more himself with her than with anyone else of his acquaintance. Still, she simply hadn’t had cause to see some of the rougher, less polished sides of his character.

Perhaps it was time she did.

Henry shifted about on the bench, which was far too small for him to truly get comfortable on. The sound of Dinah breathing deeply in her sleep was distracting, and he found he had to fight the urge to slip into bed beside her.

Henry silently cursed the desire. It was certainly time Dinah was shown all the reasons she needed to go.