The Fearless Miss Dinah by Laura Rollins

Chapter Twenty-Six

It was no small blessing that the trip from London to Curio Manor was only half a day. Dinah felt caged in for the duration of the carriage ride. Stepping out, she took in the sight of the grand country estate. Last time she’d been here, she’d grown quickly restless. She’d been in the middle of helping Mr. Harding determine which gentlemen of the ton knew more about smuggling than they ought, and coming here had been a most unwelcome interruption.

Now, though, it was a bit of a relief. Here, she wasn’t Lady Stanton. She wasn’t Mr. Harding’s secret information gatherer. Here, she was simply the daughter of Sir Mulgrave. Sister and cousin to Eliza and Rachel. The simplicity of her role here was like a breath of fresh air.

The day they first arrived was filled with unpacking, settling in, and becoming reacquainted. Though it was not long ago they all had been here last, it was good to see that the dowager had not declined in her solitude. Dinah had to admit, though, that the house was certainly less boisterous without Lord Fitzwilliam. She hoped he was doing well in the East Indies.

The following morning, Dinah was first to arrive in the breakfast room. A lovely spread was laid out, and she picked up a plate, suddenly feeling quite famished. After only adding a bit of ham and eggs to her plate, however, Dinah stopped and turned, facing the empty room.

It was so quiet. Angleside Court was never this still.

What were they all about just now? Were the three little boys awake and running their nursemaid and mother ragged? Were Miles and Oliver teasing one another about the women they had danced with at the ball? No doubt, Uncle Jeffrey was telling yet another outlandish tale and Mr. Wilson was scowling at his brandy.

Aunt Beatrice was probably relieved Dinah was gone. No doubt, she was quite willing to take over running the household once more. Dinah’s mouth bent down. Why did it feel like she’d let the whole family down?

What did they think of her leaving? She’d not seen hardly a soul all day as she had worked alongside her frantic abigail preparing to go. Though everyone had put on a smile and had said they understood her desire to visit with her family, she didn’t deceive herself that the situation was so simple. It certainly wasn’t for her; she doubted it was for them either.

Charlotte swept into the room. “Good morning, Dinah.” She hurried over and gave Dinah a quick hug. “Have I told you how glad I am you decided to join us? I’ve missed you since you wed and moved away.”

She made it sound as though Dinah had removed herself to the Americas after getting married. Though on the other hand, Dinah had to admit that in some ways, her life was as different now as it would be if she had left England. She had not anticipated it, but as a married woman, everything had changed. What she could and could not do. How people looked at her, even danced with her, as she had found out the night before last. Most of all, though, she was terrified that the man she had grown to love would never care for her in return.

Charlotte filled her plate with a scone and fruit and took a seat at the large table. Dinah looked down at her own ham and eggs, suddenly unsure if she could even stomach this much. Still, she carried it to the table and sat beside her friend.

“How did you sleep last night?” Charlotte asked.

“Quite well. Yourself?”

Charlotte’s lips pulled up on one side. “Whenever I travel, it always takes me a night or two before I am able to sleep well in a new place.”

Dinah nodded her understanding and took a bite of eggs. They weren’t nearly as light and fluffy as the ones she’d enjoyed at Angleside Court. But these did have more salt on them. Would Henry have liked these eggs? Or would he have found fault in them regardless? She missed seeing him while she ate breakfast. Even more, she missed the way things used to be between them, the way it had been just after they’d gotten married, before Henry had turned cold.

“I cannot help believing, my dear,” Charlotte said slowly after a bit of silence between them, “that you are not so much here to be here, as you are here to be away from Lord Stanton.”

Dinah struggled to swallow her bite of eggs, Charlotte’s statement hitting a bit too close to the mark for her comfort.

“Am I in the wrong?” Charlotte pressed.

Dinah took a long drink of coffee and took a second to miss the drinking chocolate Henry had always provided before answering. “You are not incorrect.”

Charlotte shifted in her seat, turning to face Dinah. “Your father mentioned you have struggled since going to live at Angleside Court.”

Dinah sat down her cup and stared at the food before her. “I’m afraid he’ll never come to care for me.” She drew in a deep breath. “Not in the way I have come to care for him.”

“Do you . . . love him?”

Dinah pressed her lips tightly together. Shutting her eyes, she nodded.

“Oh, my sweet girl.” Charlotte draped an arm across Dinah’s shoulders and leaned her head atop Dinah’s.

“I don’t know what to do,” Dinah said. “I love him, but the more I try to show it, the colder he grows. I’ve tried to be patient, really I have. But what if it’s all in vain? What if he never sees me as more than yet another family member needing to be watched over?”

“Love is always scary, at some point or another.”

“Love should be thrilling and intoxicating. Not terrifying.”

Charlotte laughed softly. “If only it were so simple. Love can be those things. It can sweep you off your feet, make you feel as though you’re flying. It can fill you up and carry you over great oceans. But it can also cut you open. It is just as likely to leave you raw and uncertain.”

Dinah wiped a hand over both cheeks, and it came away wet. “That sounds awful.”

Charlotte nodded, her head bumping gently against Dinah’s. “It can be. Simply put, to love someone—truly love them—you have to be willing to be vulnerable. You have to be willing to be open and honest. And, in that position, it is easy to get hurt. When you’ve opened yourself up and allowed yourself to connect with another, you, in essence, give them the power to affect you more than anyone else. They can use that power any way they want, to lift you up or to drag you down.”

“But I have done that. I’ve willingly cared for him, waited for him to come around.”

“I don’t know Lord Stanton as well as you do. But if he’s a good man, then it might just be that you need to be willing yet a while longer.”

Dinah drew back. “You mean, continue to be vulnerable and open, after I’ve done so for weeks now, while he hasn’t once been willing to do the same for me?”

“Yes.” Charlotte placed an elbow on the table and rested her cheek against her hand. “Love is not fair, I’m afraid to say. But I believe if you keep showing him that you are brave enough to stay open to a deeper relationship, he’ll eventually see it’s safe for him to do so as well.”

The prospect sounded terrifying. Far worse than all of society rejecting her. Worse than a dangerous mission from Mr. Harding. Worse than a rat sneaking into her bed in the middle of the night.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” Dinah said, her voice barely a whisper.

“I have confidence you can.” Charlotte placed a hand on Dinah’s. “You are one of the most fearless women I have ever known. Getting up every day, uncertain if your love will be returned, but loving your husband regardless—I can think of no greater endeavor than that.”

Dinah met Charlotte’s gaze. Could she do it? Could she continue to show love to a man who was disinterested? Only, Dinah wasn’t so sure he was disinterested. She’d seen the spark of desire in his eyes, at least she thought she had. It seemed more like he was . . . too broken to receive her love. The thought only made her want to try harder. He deserved a love-filled life as much as she did. Wasn’t a joyful life with Henry worth the work now? In five years, in ten years, she would hate herself if she looked back and knew she’d given up.

“I think I need to go back,” Dinah found herself saying.

Charlotte broke into a broad smile. “If that is what your heart is saying, then I think you should.”

Now that she’d said the words aloud, her entire being seemed filled with energy. Without a doubt, she needed to return to Angleside Court. It was like Charlotte had said—this wouldn’t be easy, but she wasn’t about to succumb to the uncertainty. She would face this marriage with the same fearlessness that she’d faced every other challenge in her life. She knew this one would be different on one account, however. Instead of one grand moment of courage, this would take daily, consistent, small acts of bravery.

But she could do it. She could be fearless in a daily, consistent way.

“Thank you,” she said, pressing her cheek against Charlotte’s. “What would I ever have done without you?”

“Oh, probably died young and penniless,” she teased.

Dinah stood. “If you will excuse me.”

“But you’ve hardly eaten.”

“I’ve far too much to see to if I want to be back home by tomorrow night.”

Dinah hurried from the room, filled with that special kind of excitement that only came when a previously cloudy path was suddenly made clear.

Dinah sent a quick prayer up for her abigail. The young woman was going to hate Dinah after she heard the news.

* * *

Sitting at the desk in his office, Henry looked out of the large window.

Dinah had left yesterday morning.

It had been barely more than twenty-four hours since she’d climbed into an elegant carriage with the Blackmore crest emblazoned on the side.

What a coward he’d been. She’d asked if it was all right to go. He’d almost believed she’d been asking for him to request she stay. But he hadn’t. The memories of the past had been too overwhelming. Speaking of the late Lady Stanton had opened the wounds for him in a more powerful way than he’d ever imagined. Even after she’d called to him through the door and apologized, he still hadn’t been able to go to her. The betrayal and abandonment felt too fresh and raw.

He wished he had, though. As long as he lived, he would regret that he hadn’t gone and opened the door and pulled Dinah into one last hug before she left.

Henry leaned back in his chair and turned his eyes toward the ceiling and the ornate design thereon. He’d gone and done the very thing he’d solemnly sworn he’d never do—he’d grown attached to his wife. More than that.

He’d fallen in love with Dinah.

What a bacon-brained, idiotic thing for a man to do.

And now she had left, as he’d always known she would. They hadn’t spoken yesterday as she’d prepared to leave. He knew she was going to a place called Curio Manor but didn’t know how long she’d be there or if she’d be continuing on with her family to the home of her Aunt Grace. Her father lived near there. Perhaps she was using this trip to Curio Manor to discreetly leave Angleside Court altogether and return to live in the home where she’d been raised.

Using it to leave him for good.

Something in his gut warned him that he would never see Dinah again.

A knock sounded at the door. Henry sat up straight, picked up his quill, and made as though he was hard at work. Of a truth, he ought to be hard at work. Several matters of business had been brought to him with the morning post—items which needed his attention immediately.

“Enter,” he called.

“Henry,” David said, stepping into the room, “might I have a word with you?”

“Of course.” Henry put down the quill once more, having written absolutely nothing with it during the brief seconds it had been in his hand.

David crossed the room, taking the seat directly across from Henry. He clasped his hands together, leaning forward, and placed steepled fingers against his chin and mouth. He seemed to be weighing his words before speaking them. Henry gave him time to sort through his thoughts.

“Emily and I,” David finally began, “have been . . . considering something. Seeing as the ball was such a success . . .”

His brother didn’t continue. After a couple moments of silence, Henry encouraged him. “Yes?”

David coughed nervously and shifted about in his seat. “Emily and I have decided it is time we remove ourselves from London. We were hoping for your blessing in taking up residence at Kingcup Estate. Emily wishes to be nearer her parents so they might continue to mend the relationship between them, and the boys are anxious for the countryside.”

They were leaving? He almost asked why, but then just as quickly realized that David had just explained why. To be near Emily’s parents. To allow the boys fresher air and room to run.

“I see,” was all Henry could seem to say. Not only was Dinah gone, but now David, Emily, and his nephews were leaving, too. It was rather a lot to take in. Still, he wouldn’t stand in their way. “If you feel this is best for your wife and boys, you should go to Kingcup Estate. I will write the staff there this very day, telling them to prepare for you.”

David’s face brightened. “You mean it?”

“Certainly.” Why wouldn’t he?

David cast his gaze heavenward. “Don’t grow moody again, Henry. Emily will think you’re mad at her, and she’ll feel too guilty to leave.”

“I’m not growing moody. I simply have a lot on my mind right now.” Though if David didn’t acquit this room in the next few minutes, he very well might grow moody enough for all of London to notice. Henry picked up the quill once more and turned his gaze to the paper on his desk.

David stood and slowly moved toward the door, but halfway across the room, he stopped and turned back around. “I was not so young and blind all those years ago to not be aware that there was a time you seriously considered marrying Emily yourself.”

Henry’s hand froze, his quill suspended above the paper.

“I think, at the time, I hoped if I ignored what I knew, it wouldn’t come between us. Was I wrong?”

“No.” The short, clipped word was all Henry could manage to say.

David ran a hand down his face. “Did Emily really break your heart all that badly?”

“No,” Henry repeated. If his brother had any sense, he would take himself off post-haste and stop this drivel.

“So, this is about Mother, then.”

Henry slammed the quill down onto the desk. His eyes came up, and he scowled at David. And yet, this time, David didn’t squirm under the dark glare.

“I was so young when she left,” David continued, instead of retreating to the farthest corners of the house as Henry wished he would do. “I don’t truly remember her. I don’t think I know what it was I was missing. I didn’t know enough to know if I ought to be angry or hurt. Until . . . until after David Jr. was born. Then, watching Emily cuddle with him, rock him, love him . . . then I knew. For a while, I didn’t understand what was suddenly wrong with me. I just knew I was angry.”

Henry had never known any of this. Their mother was one topic that had always been strictly off-limits. It was an unspoken agreement between them. One he was not pleased David was breaking.

Dinah would have been pleased, though. If she’d stuck around long enough to see it.

Henry clamped his jaw down tight on the bitterness that filled him.

Whatever his brother’s experience, Henry was in no mood to hear it now. Nonetheless, he found he couldn’t speak, couldn’t stop his brother. The emotions rolled through him too powerfully, pushing him deeper beneath as though he were drowning under the waves of his own hurt and memories.

“Father and I spoke about her just before he died,” David said. “Did he ever speak about her to you?”

Henry could only shake his head.

“He said mother left because she never came to care for him. Theirs was an arranged marriage and Mother, for whatever reason, believed they would never love one another. He said she’d come from a . . . cold home. When her parents forced her to marry Father, she assumed he would be just like them. Unfeeling, demanding, strict. She never even gave him a chance. He said she started looking for an escape before they had even said their vows. After she had both of us, she found it in the form of a manservant who, unexpectedly, came into some land.”

That was quite a bit more than Henry had known. He knew she’d left and had not looked back—he hadn’t known that for years, she’d kept herself closed off to Father, despite his best efforts to show her love.

Gads, but that sounded frightfully like what Henry himself had done. A cold chill flowed down his spine. Had he not told Dinah that first day that there was no chance for love between them? Had he not closed himself off because of previous experiences? He’d been running from the very hurt Mother had inflicted on him all his life, only to find himself perpetrating it.

“I tracked her down,” Henry said. Dinah had said he ought to tell David. She was right. He should have told his brother well before now.

“Excuse me?”

Henry looked up at his brother. “While Father was sick. About the time we both realized he wasn’t going to pull through. I paid a Bow Street Runner. He found her grave.”

David shut his eyes and angled his face away.

“She was buried alone,” Henry continued. If there’d been a man buried directly beside her, he may have suspected the truth. But such had not been the case. “But it was a nice headstone. Someone cared enough for her when she passed to see to that much, at least.”

They were both silent for some time. Slowly, David turned toward him once more. “Thank you for telling me.”

Henry nodded.

David stood up straight but didn’t move to leave. “You do realize that you and Emily never would have suited. You and Dinah on the other hand . . . I think the heavens must have intervened that night you were seen together. No one but the angels could have picked so perfect a wife for you.”

Henry didn’t have anything to say to that. He felt wholly spent after their brief exchange regarding their mother.

David shrugged. “She is quite different than my sweetheart.” He smiled softly. “Did you know that dress Emily wore at the ball was Dinah’s creation?”

Henry’s head snapped up. “What?”

David nodded. “Baby John soiled the dress Emily had been wanting to wear, and she didn’t have anything else suitable. So Dinah gave her the dress she’d made for herself.”

David walked up toward the desk once more. Placing his hands against the top of it, he leaned down. “You and Dinah are opposite in many ways. You like order and carefully made plans, but she’s more spontaneous than any individual I’ve ever met; you are quiet and thoughtful, but she expresses everything openly and without hesitation. However . . .”

Henry waited, scared of what he might hear and simultaneously hopeful, despite himself.

“However,” David finally continued, “now that I have come to know her better, I see that you two are actually quite alike. You both feel deeply. You both care fiercely. You both value family and good friends above all things and are not shy about shaping a life which proves that. You may have different approaches, but your hearts are the same.”

Henry wasn’t sure what to think or even feel about David’s words. The turbulence inside him swirled too fiercely for him to make heads or tails of what his brother was telling him. But among all the chaos that was his heart, one emotion rang truer than all the others—

He loved Dinah. He loved her completely and wholly.

Her spirit and vivacity. Her fiery expressions and determined brow. The way she worked hard at what she loved. The way she loved and cared for family. Her fearlessness in facing life.

He wanted her by his side; needed her there.

“Do you honestly think she might come to care for me?” Henry asked.

“I think she already has.” David pushed off the desk, standing straight once more. “And I think you’d know that already if you ever gave her a blasted chance.”

Did David really believe that? Henry dropped his head into his upturned hands and ran his fingers through his hair. Did he dare believe it himself?

“Emily and I will be leaving in about a week’s time.” David’s voice reached him from near the door. “If you’re not here to see us off, we will understand.”

Not here? Henry lifted his head. Where else would he be?

David shrugged. “You know, in case you decide to go chase down a certain wife of yours between now and then.”

“Yes.” Henry stood abruptly. It would take him a day or two to settle the few business items that had reached him that morning, and there was packing to see to. Nonetheless, he knew what course to take now. “Yes, I think I might just be away after all.” He moved around his desk and hurried over to where David stood by the door. Now that he was thinking clearly for the first time in months—no, in years—Henry knew he’d been a fool to let Dinah go without telling her how he truly felt. He’d be an even greater fool if he let her leave without going after her.

“Thank you,” Henry said, clapping David on the arm.

“You’ve always looked out for me. Just returning the favor.” David shared a smile with him then motioned for Henry to go ahead. “Now, I think we both have a bit of packing to get to.”