Dalton’s Challenge by Penny Fairbanks

Chapter 11

Rain pelted the window, providing little comfort to Winnie. She usually enjoyed rainy days since she always had plenty to keep her occupied on her never-ending mission to improve herself. On the surface, today was no different. She and Caroline occupied the small sitting room, both working quietly on their own sketches, using each other as the subjects.

As much as Winnie wanted to absorb the peace of the flickering candles and the gentle melody of the rain falling upon the house, she had too much on her mind. Or rather, she had one pervasive topic on her mind—Dalton.

Her pencil scratched against the paper, creating shadows in Caroline’s hair. Winnie did not particularly like her drawing so far, though she was too distracted to care. As she added in some details to Caroline’s dress, Winnie idly wondered when she had last spent any meaningful time with Dalton.

Aside from meals, she had only seen him for a few minutes at a time. He seemed almost as frazzled as he had during the festival preparations. She missed him. At one point, she would have been utterly shocked that she would miss Dalton of all people. Now, it came as no surprise.

She missed his smiles and his good natured laughter and the easy way they could talk about anything—almost anything. There still seemed to be some subjects he did not want to broach. Winnie had never been one for snooping. When it came to Dalton, however, she longed to know every thought and feeling he had. She wanted to help if it was in her power to do so.

“Caroline,” Winnie started cautiously, still getting used to the younger woman’s given name.

“Yes? Oh, you are so talented, Winnie! Your shading is lovely,” Caroline cried, clapping her hands over her heart as her eyes fell to Winnie’s unfinished drawing.

Winnie wanted to appreciate her friend’s enthusiasm. Unfortunately, the gloom in her heart made even Caroline’s vibrant compliments seem dull.

“Dalton has been rather busy recently. Do you know what he has been up to?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Caroline sighed, tapping her pencil against the edge of her sketchbook. “I am afraid not. He has been behaving very mysteriously. It seems that no one knows what is keeping him so occupied.”

“I see.” Winnie nodded, disappointed, but not surprised.

“I am worried as well,” Caroline admitted, her eyes falling to her lap. “It is not like my spirited brother to go off in his own world for extended periods of time. We know that if we do not see Patrick for a while, he is probably in the library engrossed in some play. But with Dalton…he is such a friendly, sociable creature. I worry about him being so alone.”

Winnie’s heart only sank further, settling down in her toes. If Caroline was this concerned, she knew the situation must be dire.

“Winnie, may I ask you something?”

The younger woman’s question caught Winnie off guard. She stared at her friend, both curious and anxious. “Certainly.”

“I hope you do not think me terribly forward—goodness, I know Mama would box my ears for putting a guest in such an uncomfortable position, but…have you developed an attachment to Dalton?”

Winnie swallowed, her nerves roaring up through her entire body. She certainly had not expected that direct of a question. “It is alright, Caroline. We are friends, after all,” she mumbled, slowly gathering herself. “I suppose I have developed something of an attachment to him, despite our history.”

The words sounded both foreign and natural at the same time. Winnie had not admitted her own feelings in so many words to herself, let alone out loud to another person. Speaking them had given her feelings an even greater power—or perhaps simply revealed their true power. Her chest swelled at the thought of him, even now when things between them seemed so uncertain for an unknown reason.

“A very colorful history at that,” Caroline giggled. “I must admit, I never expected the summer to end up this way, but it is a very pleasant surprise.” She smiled at Winnie with a hint of hope in her eyes.

“I can assure you I am probably more surprised than anyone.” Winnie sighed as she pondered once again this truly bizarre turn of events. What had once seemed like a curse had transformed into a miracle—a miracle she did not want to lose.

“Sometimes when Dalton is in a mood, he spends time in the morning room during the afternoon,” Caroline added, brow raised knowingly.

“I see,” Winnie responded flatly. She did not know if Dalton would appreciate her appearing in his hideaway uninvited. She no longer wanted to be an uninvited presence to Dalton. She wanted him to want her in his life.

When Caroline remained silent, Winnie glanced over at her. As soon as their eyes met, Caroline’s brow rose further, clearly not satisfied with Winnie’s answer.

“Perhaps I should not bother him,” Winnie offered.

Caroline tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly. “If I may be so bold, Winnie, I think Dalton needs you. I do not know what has been bothering him, but if anyone can help him with it now, it would be you.”

“Do you truly think so?” Winnie asked quietly, hating how much she sounded like a silly little girl trying to catch the attention of an equally silly little boy. There was no doubt about it. Dalton brought out strange, unexpected sides in her.

The woman pressed her lips together to keep from bursting into laughter. Winnie almost laughed herself. She would not have blamed Caroline in the least. She did feel rather like a child on Christmas Eve, so eager to open shiny new presents. Winnie had not felt that sweet, fluttering excitement in her heart in many, many years.

The thought that Dalton needed her, that she was indeed special to him, almost made Winnie forget everything else.

“He adores you, Winnie,” Caroline continued. “I have never seen him more serious about something as he is about you.”

Winnie nodded slowly, her mind racing with anticipation. “I shall search him out later, I think. I must figure out what I will say.”

Caroline’s laugh finally escaped. “I have no doubt you will find the right thing to say in the moment.”

“You would be surprised,” Winnie admitted sheepishly. “I am not accustomed to living moment to moment, so if I do not have adequate preparation, I often end up blurting things out that I could have said in a more graceful way. That is probably why I always annoyed Dalton so much whenever we crossed paths in London.”

Caroline truly burst into laughter now, trying and failing to cover her mouth with her hand as a proper lady should. Winnie joined in, for once not worried about looking foolish or being disgraceful.

Though she wanted to rush to Dalton’s side, to offer her support, Winnie did not want to waste any opportunities. Everything must go perfectly. She would not put their carefully built relationship at risk.

Winnie had moretime to plan out her words than she had intended. She had gone to check the morning room after she and Caroline finished their sketches on that rainy day. The rain had persisted through the rest of the week, keeping everyone indoors. She had been certain that she would come across Dalton sooner rather than later.

That carefully laid plan had been foiled for several days. She checked the morning room every afternoon, just as Caroline had suggested. He had failed to appear thus far. Perhaps he had found a different hideaway inside this vast house. Though she had explored much of Attwood Manor over the past few months, it would be hopeless for Winnie to find him within its many halls and rooms if he did not wish to be found.

The rain came down heavily, drowning out Winnie’s forlorn sigh as she wandered down the hall toward the morning room once more. She did not have much hope that she would be successful today. Still, Winnie knew she must try.

As she suspected, the morning room was just as empty as it had been during all her previous visits. Defeated, Winnie stepped inside. She peered around, hoping that he would pop out from behind a chair or from beneath a desk to surprise her. Nothing of the sort happened.

With heavy steps, Winnie crossed to the window. She put her hands on the sill, the landscape gray and soggy. Her eyes caught a raindrop, following it as it slid down the glass.

“Winnie? What are you doing here?”

She whirled around, heart leaping into her throat. Dalton stood in the doorway looking just as surprised as Winnie.

“I was looking for you, as a matter of fact,” she stuttered, her throat suddenly dry.

“How did you know to find me here?” His tone made Winnie hesitate. Perhaps she should not have been so forward just yet. Perhaps he really did not want to be bothered.

“Caroline suggested it.”

He gave a rueful smile, looking around the room—anywhere but Winnie. “Why am I not surprised? She is always meddling.”

“Why the morning room in the afternoon?” Winnie blurted, immediately reprimanding herself as soon as the question left her mouth. That was not what she had planned on discussing with Dalton.

Dalton took a few steps further into the room, nervously tugging at his coat sleeves. “No one comes to the morning room in the afternoon, so I know I will be alone if I need it.”

Winnie felt a small smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. “Now that I think about it, it seems strange that this room should only be used in the mornings. It is perfectly pleasant, even in the afternoon.”

Yet another thing she had not planned on saying. Dalton’s anxious behavior and his mysterious absences made Winnie want to bring a little cheer back to him in any way she could.

Dalton chuckled, the sound barely reaching Winnie. It touched her heart all the same. “A very wise observation indeed.”

“Do you like rainy weather?” Winnie asked awkwardly. Now that Dalton stood before her, she found it difficult to remember all the wise words she had rehearsed in her mind over the past few days.

“I do not mind it, though it limits my activities, so I cannot say I love it,” he answered, the humor already gone from his voice.

Winnie stepped away from the window, closing the gap between them just a bit. Her stomach churned at Dalton’s disheartened expression. “I am glad to have finally come across you,” she started, trying for both their sakes to sound positive.

“Why might that be?” Dalton asked, his eyes darting up to her face for a moment before landing on a vase on the table beside her.

Emboldened by the hint of longing she heard in his voice, Winnie stepped forward again, bringing herself still closer to Dalton. “I hoped that we could talk.”

Dalton nodded, looking around the room again like a skittish creature who might bolt at any second. “Yes, Papa told me you shared your idea with him. He was very impressed by it. Well done, Winnie.”

“No, that is not what I wanted to talk about, Dalton.” Winnie paused, afraid that if she tried to come any closer, he really would run. “You seem to have been out of sorts lately. I had hoped you would share what has been on your mind with me.”

Dalton’s lips pressed together in a firm line. “Thank you, but that is not necessary. I am just affected by the weather, that is all.”

Frustration flared in Winnie again. Dalton had never been one to hide his thoughts or emotions. She knew that firsthand. Why did he insist on hiding them now? Why did he insist on acting like Winnie was still a stranger? They had not exchanged any such words aloud, yet Winnie knew they both sensed the change between them.

“No, Dalton. I know you have been bothered by something even before this rainy week.”

His jaw twitched and he rubbed his temple. “I just have many things I must consider, but none of them concern you.”

Those words pierced Winnie’s heart, though she knew she had no right to take offense to them. Had she and Caroline both misread Dalton’s feelings? No, Winnie could see from the pain in his eyes that she was right. After all, she usually was.

“Truly? None of them concern me at all?” Winnie’s question sounded more bitter than she had intended yet she did not retract it. She stood to her full height, shoulders back, chin lifted proudly. She could feel herself slowly retreating into her protective wall, even as she longed to burst forth and close the distance between herself and Dalton once and for all.

Dalton groaned, giving his head a light shake. “Please, Winnie, just leave it alone.”

“I do not want to leave it alone. I do not want to leave you alone.”

Finally, Dalton looked at her, his eyes pleading. For what, Winnie could not quite tell. “I am glad that you care, Winnie, truly. But there are things I must handle on my own.”

A heavy sorrow swept over Winnie like a cold gust of wind. “That is not true. I want to help, and you look like you need it.”

“I do not need your help,” he snapped, his voice raised in a way Winnie had never heard before. “I do not need anyone’s help.”

“How can you say such a thing?” Winnie fired back, her sorrow giving way to anger. “Once, I thought like you. I thought I must live my life alone because no one cared for me, because no one could see the real me. I had hidden her so deep. But look around you, Dalton. Look at all the wonderful people who love and cherish you. You have never needed to be anyone but yourself your whole life. You have people who want to help. It is not a weakness to rely on them when you need it.”

Dalton’s face turned to stone. Winnie knew she had said the exact wrong thing. Her heart hammered erratically in her chest. This had all gone so wrong. She had not meant to say any of these things. Why did she always say the wrong things around Dalton?

“Do not pretend to know what I am going through, Winnie. I am well aware of how blessed I am to have this family, especially considering—” He stopped himself, suddenly looking embarrassed and ashamed.

“Yes, especially considering my sorry excuse for a family,” Winnie finished, biting the inside of her cheek to keep her emotions in check. “Perhaps I never had my parents’ love, not truly—not if they could toss me aside so easily after they finally had the son they always wanted. That only makes me more convinced that you should rely on the love and support you have. You do not need to do everything alone, whatever it is you are meant to be doing.”

“I know you love to be right, but I am afraid you are wrong this time,” Dalton muttered. “I will be managing everything on my own before I know it—this house, these lands, this town, this family. I might as well start practicing now. Do not concern yourself with my suffering. I will handle it on my own.”

Winnie could see the hurt he carried, but now she had been hurt, too. She wanted to be of value to someone. She thought that someone could have been Dalton. Still, after all this, she was not worthy of being let into his heart with both its joys and its troubles.

“So you insist on shutting me out, after everything we have been through and how much better we understand each other. You still think I do not know you well enough to know that you need someone,” she said quietly, a statement rather than a question.

Dalton looked down at his feet, his fingers fidgeting with the bottom of his waistcoat. “Perhaps we understand each other better, but not completely.”

His words shot through Winnie’s chest, engulfing her in a mixture of flaming frustration, dejection, and pain. “I am sorry I misunderstood you again. We always seem to be doing that to each other.”

She swept past him, prepared to walk through the door without another look back—until he called her name.

“Wait a moment, Winnie, please.” His voice sounded just behind her, the rug having stifled his footsteps as he followed her.

She only turned when she felt his hand on her elbow, too warm and too soft. Winnie looked up at him, masking her pain behind the neutral expression she used to rely on. Some called it a face like carved stone—including Dalton.

“I do care for you very much,” he whispered, his breath warm against her forehead.

Winnie nodded, feeling her facade cracking at the seams. That confession only made her pain worse.

“I am glad,” she mumbled, pulling her arm out of his grasp and flying from the room.

So Dalton did care for her, perhaps even as much as she cared for him. What good would that do Winnie if he forever kept her at arm’s length? She had finally found someone around whom she could let her guard down.

Dalton’s guard had only grown higher and firmer. What hope did she have now of ever surmounting it?