The Fearless Miss Dinah by Laura Rollins

Chapter Eight

Henry led Dinah to the stairs where he expected they would part so she might dress for dinner.

He would not have guessed, earlier that day when he’d seen Dinah collapse and had moved to catch her, that she would be up and calm this afternoon. He’d placed a lot on her just now—between his expectations for their relationship and the enormity of his family—yet she walked beside him with her head up and her shoulders relaxed. At least she hadn’t pried to learn more into the truth of the late Lady Stanton. He wasn’t ready to discuss such details. Dinah probably ought to know, though; perhaps he could persuade Uncle to fill her in?

Henry sighed. Now he was just acting the coward.

I am not afraid to meet your family, Henry.

Dinah hadn’t been too afraid to rescue a little girl or slip across Town in the middle of the night, either. Did nothing scare Dinah? He simultaneously respected her for it and worried over her because he had no idea what her fearlessness might lead her to do next.

“Pardon me, my lord,” Rutley, his butler, said as he met them in the corridor. He bowed. “There is a gentleman wishing to see you.” He held a calling card out to Henry.

He didn’t need to give the card more than a glance to know it was from Mr. Harding. His brow dropped. He hadn’t expected to hear from the gentleman today, and usually, unexpected meetings only meant one thing. A plan had gone wrong.

“Who is it?” Dinah asked, leaning across him to see the card.

Presumptuous as well as fearless. But Henry found he didn’t mind. He tipped the card in her direction so she might read the name, even while speaking to Rutley.

“Have him meet me in the drawing room.” Then he turned toward Dinah. “If you will excuse me, this won’t take long. Perhaps you would care to dress for dinner?”

“Thank you, no,” Dinah said and even surprised him by taking his arm more firmly. “I think I would much prefer to see Mr. Harding myself.” She smiled up at him as though she wasn’t inserting herself where he hadn’t expected her to be.

It was a bit like how she’d inserted herself into his very life.

Was this going to be a constant thing with her?

His first instinct was to dislike the notion, yet he led her back toward the very room they’d just left all the same.

Once they were alone again, Henry spoke but kept his voice low. “You realize he may need to speak with me on confidential matters.”

“Does your family know what you do?”

“You mean with Mr. Harding?”

She nodded.

“No, they certainly don’t.”

“Well, I do. Therefore, I don’t see any reason why I can’t stay.” Leaving his side, she took a seat on the settee. It wasn’t as close to the hearth as the two wingbacks but would provide a better arrangement for a meeting.

Very well, then; it seemed she wasn’t going to give him a choice in the matter. Henry sat in one of the chairs next to the settee but had no time to say anything more before the door to the drawing room opened yet again.

It wasn’t only Mr. Harding who walked in, however. Beside him was none other than the little girl he and Dinah had worked to save.

“Adele,” Dinah said, in a joy-filled tone.

The little girl ran toward Dinah and hugged her tightly. “It’s you!”

Dinah held the girl for several minutes, and when the two finally pulled apart, Dinah drew the girl over toward the settee. “Come and sit with me.”

“She was most anxious to see you one last time, Lady Stanton, before I take her back to her father.”

At hearing the words Lady Stanton, Henry felt a jolt of panic crash into him. It took him no more than a blink to realize that Mr. Harding had, in fact, been referring to Dinah and not Henry’s mother. Still, the panic echoed about inside him. It would clearly take Henry some time to get used to other people calling Dinah by the same title his mother had once borne.

“Well, I’m glad to receive you both,” Dinah said before returning her attention to the little girl.

With a gentle tug on Henry’s elbow, Mr. Harding pulled him aside. “We’ve run into a bit of a problem.”

“So it would seem,” Henry said, forcing away any last lingering thoughts of the late Lady Stanton. “My understanding was you were getting the girl back to her father immediately.”

Henry wasn’t certain, but he suspected the girl’s mother had already passed, since not once had Mr. Harding mentioned a concerned wife or mother.

“I haven’t been able to make the journey because”—Mr. Harding leaned closer to Henry and when next he spoke it was soft enough that only he could hear—“some of the men we captured the other night have escaped.”

“Blast.”

Mr. Harding nodded his agreement. “We lost three good men when the smugglers made their break.”

Henry ground his jaw. Every life taken by the smuggling ring run by the murderous man who called himself Spade was yet another life that could have been spared if only Henry could have found the man by now.

“Give me a week or two to see Dinah settled here at Angleside Court, and then I can reach out to a few contacts I still have.” He glanced over at her and Adele. She had retrieved a botany book from one of the nearby shelves and was looking at images of flowers and ferns with the little girl. How long would it take Dinah to settle in? So far, she seemed to be taking his large family in stride. But how would they respond to her?

“I don’t think that will work,” Mr. Harding said.

Henry turned fully toward the man. “All I’m asking is for a couple of weeks.” No matter that Dinah was his wife only in name; no matter that they were barely more than strangers. She was his responsibility now, and Henry wasn’t about to relegate her to last place.

“Oh, you can have two weeks. You can have six if you like.”

Henry’s brow dropped. “What are you saying?”

“One of the men who got away . . . was Finch.”

“The man I fought on the road.” He would never forget the way the man’s light blue eyes had turned icy when Henry had stepped between him and Dinah and Adele. “So my cover’s blown.”

Mr. Harding shrugged as though it wasn’t a big deal, as though he wasn’t upending all of Henry’s plans. But neither did he deny it.

Devil take him. Nearly two years of work researching and digging for names, then four months away from his family and Angleside Court, all for nothing. It had taken him so long to find a man who was loosely connected to another man who worked for Spade. Henry had worked his way in, acting the part of a poor farmer who’d fallen on hard times and lost everything, up from one connection to another. He was so close to finding Spade—the man who’d killed his friend.

Or he had been close.

Henry ran a hand through his hair. “I have a few contacts who weren’t there that night. Men who might not know—”

“That you were part of the ring that was caught?” Mr. Harding shook his head. “Word’s gotten out. Every smuggler knows we caught a group just outside of London a few weeks ago. Anyone who knew you were there is going to be suspicious if you suddenly show up, unharmed and free, even if Finch hasn’t told them what he saw.”

All that work. All those countless days and nights sleeping outside, playing cards, growing his beard long and his hair even longer just to meet the right people, form the right connections.

“Blast,” he said again. Henry needed time to think through this. Perhaps if he were allowed a moment, he could think up a new plan. Rubbing a hand down his face, he paced away, then came back toward Mr. Harding. “There has to be something. I can start all over. Figure a way in again.”

“It would be too risky.” Mr. Harding shook his head. “And, like you mentioned only a moment ago, as someone recently married, you now have other responsibilities to see to.” The man had the audacity to waggle his eyebrows.

Henry speared him with a flat stare.

“Come, Adele,” Mr. Harding called. “It is time we left.”

Adele hugged Dinah yet again and then followed Mr. Harding. Dinah smiled happily as the two departed. Dinah, with her blonde curls falling over her shoulder and her small, upturned nose. This woman was the reason two years of work were all for naught. If she’d only been able to stick to the original plan and get Adele out without notice, Henry could have continued on under his fake name, and by now, he likely would have known the face and location of the man who had killed his closest friend.

“Is something wrong?” Dinah asked.

Henry only glared at her. “I have business to see to before dinner.” He didn’t even grace her with a bow. He simply spun on his heel and marched out the door.