The Fearless Miss Dinah by Laura Rollins

Chapter Three

This had to be her father—Miss Dinah Mulgrave’s angry father.

Henry Thrup, Earl of Stanton, looked from the man holding him against the outer wall of the townhouse, to Miss Dinah Mulgrave, to the older woman who’d first come out of the house. Through the servants’ door, of all things. Yet, the older woman’s clothes clearly showed she was no servant. She was haut ton if ever Henry had seen a lady of rank.

“Well?” the father bellowed. “I asked you a question.”

“Sir,” Henry started, his mind spinning. Calming an angry father was not something he’d ever had to do before. “I beg your forgiveness, but your daughter was out riding today and lost her way. I only wished to see her home safely.”

“You’ll have to tell a more convincing bounder than that,” the father spat. “Dinah never losses her way.”

Great. The first rule to lying was to always tell the person what they wanted to believe, or at the very least, something that was easy to believe. But he knew neither Miss Dinah nor her father, so he couldn’t rightly say what lie would pass muster. He looked over at Miss Dinah.

She seemed to understand that he simply didn’t have enough knowledge about her father to talk them out of this.

“Please, Father,” she said. “It was only a bit of fun.”

“Fun?” Instead of growing louder, her father’s voice grew softer. And yet, Henry got the distinct impression that for this man, softer was more dangerous. He eyed Henry. “What exactly were you and my daughter doing together this afternoon? Did you kiss her?”

Gads, no. But he couldn’t very well say as much.

“He is very good at it,” Miss Dinah said with a light laugh.

Henry’s mouth dropped open, and he was certain his eyes went wide. Luckily, at her comment, Mr. Mulgrave turned toward his daughter, so no one saw Henry’s expression of utter shock.

“Come, Dinah,” the older lady said, her voice tight. “I think it is best we get you inside.”

“Wait,” Mr. Mulgrave said. “Dinah, I have tolerated this behavior long enough. I have warned you and counseled you. I know Lady Blackmore and your sister and cousin have repeatedly pleaded that you act in a more respectable manner. Yet, you have ignored every attempt from us.” Mr. Mulgrave didn’t lessen his hold on Henry as he spoke to his daughter. “You were aware that we were having guests tonight?”

Miss Dinah’s face had gone a bit white at his words. “Well yes, but I hardly understand—”

“Then perhaps you can guess who it was that first saw the two of you arrive just now? Who might have told Lady Blackmore and me that you were walking, alone, with a gentleman not of your family, and in dirty clothes with your hair all half-pulled out?”

Miss Dinah was decidedly white now. Indeed, Henry could hardly breathe himself, and it had nothing to do with Mr. Mulgrave’s arm across his chest.

“Sir,” he tried again.

“Shut it,” Mr. Mulgrave barked back.

“Can we not say he is a friend of the family?” Miss Dinah tried. “That we have not seen him for so long, and that we went out for a ride and lost track of time?”

“Say that this man—” Mr. Mulgrave eyed Henry, no doubt finding his dirty clothing, unkempt hair, and three days’ worth of stubble falling short of approval. One could not appear to be a gentleman and still hide among smugglers.

“This man,” Mr. Mulgrave repeated, “is a trusted friend of the family? Even if I could convince anyone of such an obvious falsehood, what of your mud-covered dress and disheveled hair?”

“My appearance we can blame on me falling from my horse,” Miss Dinah tried yet again.

“It’s no use,” the older woman said, taking Miss Dinah’s arm.

Mr. Mulgrave sighed heavily, and for the first time, the burning anger in his eyes seemed to give way to something else.

Sadness, if Henry wasn’t mistaken.

“My sweet,” he said softly, “you have ruined yourself.”

Henry felt like he might be sick. He knew exactly what it meant for a woman to be ruined in the eyes of society. She would never know a comfortable home or honorable standing among her friends; she very well may never succeed in finding a husband. The few women he knew who’d faced such an obstacle had been shoved away from all good society until they had no option but to either live in abject poverty or turn to selling themselves just to stay alive.

Her eyes turned red, and she blinked many times. “What are you saying?”

Surely a man who cared for his daughter as much as this man clearly cared for Miss Dinah would not turn his back on her so completely. But after he died? What would become of her then?

“Lady Blackmore,” Mr. Mulgrave said, “if you would see Dinah to her room, please.”

“No,” Miss Dinah pressed. “Tell me what you’re going to do.”

“What can we do?” Mr. Mulgrave glanced over his shoulder at his daughter. “We’ll leave London in the morning.”

Henry could see Dinah’s bleak future spread out in front of her. She would return home to wherever they lived. But no matter how far from London one fled, eventually the gossip would catch up. The gentlemen there would assume she was a woman of no virtue. They would treat her most ill. Henry knew mankind too well to think otherwise.

And all because Miss Dinah had been brave enough to risk her life to save a little girl she’d never before laid eyes on.

It was cruel, yet it was happening right here before him.

“Sir,” Henry said, this time putting more strength into his words, demanding that Mr. Mulgrave hear him out. “The fault here lies with me, not your daughter. So the remedy must be mine as well.”

Mr. Mulgrave speared him with a scowl. “And how do you propose to save my daughter?”

“I will marry her, sir.”

The words came out, yet he could barely believe he’d uttered them himself.

“You?” Mr. Mulgrave spat out. “So this was your plan all along, then? To force me into giving my daughter to you?”

His plan? Devil take it, if Henry had had more than three minutes to formulate a plan, it would have turned out far better than this. There was no plan at this point—that was the problem.

“I’d rather die than let an oafish, status-grabbing, rattlepated picaroon like you anywhere near my daughter.”

Status-grabber, was he? A picaroon? “I believe, sir,” he said, his voice growing hard and his entire body going rigid, “it is time we were properly introduced. I am the Earl of Stanton, son of the seventh Earl of Stanton, and no matter what inaccuracies you may assume from my appearance, I am a man of honor and respectability. As such, I am offering myself to protect your daughter’s good name.”

Henry had long since resigned himself to life as a bachelor. His younger brother was happily wed and had three rambunctious sons who could inherit his title when he was gone. They even now lived here in London. There was no need for Henry to continue the Stanton line, and he had decided well over a decade ago that he would not do so.

If his bursting household held one more young woman, what was that to him?

He was confident they could wed and perhaps someday form enough of an association to be quite like cousins.

Nothing more, he was certain of that. More certain than he was that it rained often in England.

But surely it would be far better for Miss Dinah than being sent away from London only to have tonight’s misunderstanding haunt her for the rest of her life.

Mr. Mulgrave studied him, staring at him as though he could peer through Henry’s skull and read his mind.

“Earl of Stanton, you said?” the older woman asked.

Henry inclined his head in her direction.

She moved forward, away from Miss Dinah, and placed a hand on Mr. Mulgrave’s arm. “If ever there was a man who was worthy of your list, it is him.”

List? Henry had no idea what she might be referring to. He dared a glance over at Miss Dinah. She watched him with wide eyes. Was that surprise in her expression? Or fear? Either way, if she did know what list Lady Blackmore had spoken of, a simple look wouldn’t be enough to tell him.

“If he’s so honorable, why isn’t he already on the list?” Mr. Mulgrave addressed the other woman.

“He was rumored to have removed from Town four months ago.”

That had been exactly what Henry had hoped all of society would believe he had done. In truth, he’d actually still been here, in London, only he was among smugglers and couldn’t be seen about Town as both a lowlife and a gentleman of breeding. He’d had to choose one over the other. It would have worked, too, if not for tonight’s debacle.

Both Mr. Mulgrave and the older woman were looking to him, seemingly waiting for him to explain.

“I had only just gotten back this afternoon when I came across your daughter,” Henry said. It was frightening how easy it was to lie after doing nothing else for the past four months. “Regardless,” Henry pressed on, not looking away from Mr. Mulgrave’s intense gaze, “I am a man of honor. I will not leave your daughter to face society’s judgment alone.”

Mr. Mulgrave stopped his penetrating stare and rocked back slightly, finally dropping his arm away from Henry. “You are offering to do the right thing by my daughter and marry her?”

“Yes.” Henry forced the word not to shake. “And I promise she will never know hunger. She shall be given a good home, and all her comforts shall be seen to.” He supposed the list sounded rather business-like, but then again, for him, that’s all this was. He wasn’t offering to love her. Even after four months, he hadn’t had enough practice lying to make a bounder that big sound convincing.

“Very well.” Mr. Mulgrave took a step back. “I shall expect a visit from you first thing tomorrow morning. We will discuss the particulars then.”

Henry tried not to dwell on all that he’d just agreed to. He’d face them tomorrow morning, just as Mr. Mulgrave said. “Very good, sir.”

Mr. Mulgrave turned back to his daughter. “Come now, Dinah. We’d best announce your engagement to our guests before their tongues have a chance to wag past the walls of our house.”

Miss Dinah only continued to stare at him. Eventually, Mr. Mulgrave took her hand and began pulling her toward the door. Just before they crossed the threshold, he paused and faced Henry once more.

“You’d best be aware, Lord Stanton, that I may not have recognized you at first, but I am a man well connected in this city. I know who does business with whom. I know who attends what club. I can promise there is no place in London or even all of England where I will not find you. Fair warning, in case you were considering disappearing tonight.” With that, Mr. Mulgrave escorted his daughter back into the house.

Lady Blackmore, directly behind them, also paused at the door. “And if that doesn’t scare you enough to keep your word, I am quite well acquainted with your aunt. I am sure we both know that no one gainsays her.”

“No, my lady,” Henry said. He bowed and she slipped into the house, closing the door firmly behind her.

Henry was left alone, standing between the stairs and the door, his mind whirling.

What the blazes had he been thinking? Agreeing to a marriage of convenience with a complete stranger?

This was outrageous.

And a problem of his own making. Henry shut his eyes so that he might focus. Quickly his mind flitted through all his options, but he came to the very same conclusions he had moments ago.

He could either abandon Miss Dinah to face the worst society had to offer, or he could marry her.

Henry pushed off the wall and stomped up the stairs, heading back toward the two horses. His father hadn’t raised Henry to be a rake. He hadn’t worked hard all his life in Parliament and among other men of standing just so Henry could, in a single blow, sully and demean the family name. No, there was nothing else for it.

Henry was getting married.