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Chapter Nine
Dinah opened the door that led to the shared sitting room between hers and Henry’s individual bedchambers. After Henry had so abruptly left her after Mr. Harding’s and Adele’s visit, there had been very little to do other than dress for dinner.
She’d been in full earnestness when she’d told Henry she wasn’t afraid to meet his family, many though they apparently were. What did they think of her and Henry’s marriage? The wedding had happened so fast, Dinah hadn’t even met Henry’s family before this. He’d told her earlier that they had mixed feelings. What precisely did that mean? She supposed she’d learn for herself soon enough.
Drawing herself up, she took in the room about her. This was her home now. She stood in a long and narrow space divided into two distinct sitting areas. There was a settee and a couple of small chairs all comfortably placed about a rug on the nearest side of the room; then there were a couple of wingbacks sitting to either side of the hearth on the far side of the room. Between the two areas, directly in the center, rested a courting bench.
It was a small piece of furniture but perfectly situated for resting between the other two sitting areas. With its S-shaped back, and a seat nestled into each of the curves, one could choose to sit in one seat and face the settee and first cluster of chairs or sit in the other seat and face the hearth and wingbacks.
Dinah ran a few fingers over the small bench as she walked by. Its unusual curved back seemed a fitting representation of her life just now, twisted in a way that was both unexpected and unnatural.
And what had Henry meant when he’d said he would never come to love her? At first, she’d scoffed at his words. Brushed them aside. But now, the longer the words sat with her, the more she felt their weight, and the more uncertainty wriggled its way into her. This marriage may not have been what either of them had hoped for, but surely they could make the most of it. Surely they could see their way toward a loving and passionate marriage. Couldn’t they?
Then again, such a life requiredtwowilling parties. Dinah was one, but she couldn’t force Henry to be the other. Dinah bit down on her lower lip; what had she gotten herself into?
Pulling her hand back and away from the courting bench, Dinah drew herself up. Whatever the challenge, she was equal to it, she was certain. She would simply leave all her twisting and turning concerns here with the bench and get herself ready for dinner. They both—her thoughts and the bench—were a bit too warped for her liking. They could just keep one another company for all she cared.
She had a family to meet, after all.
Dinah was dressed and ready in quick order. Indeed, as she hurried down the stairs and toward the drawing room to wait for dinner, she was quite pleased she had not only readied so quickly but had done so quite successfully. Her hair was pulled into a gentle chignon at the base of her neck, and her dress was a most flattering cream with a dusty-rose overlay. Shefeltpretty; right now, the confidence such a feeling afforded her was much needed.
There were many voices coming from the drawing room, all of which were male. Henry had mentioned his aunt was currently gone, visiting an old friend. But his brother’s wife would surely be in attendance. Dinah paused at the door and smoothed down her skirts. She’d done far more intimidating things than this, and she’d done so with head held high and her smile in place. That combination often proved best when needing to win someone—or many someones—over.
A footman opened the door for her, and Dinah swept into the room.
Instantly, all conversation stopped.
Every eye swung her direction.
Indeed, it was a room mostly full of men. Some old, like the two gray-haired gentlemen sitting in one corner with large cups of brandy in their hands. Some young, like the three children all huddled around the knee of a man who Dinah could only assume was their father.
Then there were all the men in between. Two standing by the window and looking almost as though they were the same person; they had to be the twins Henry had spoken of. The father of the young boys, who didn’t look nearly as much like Henry as she’d expected. And, of course, Henry himself.
Dinah offered the room a curtsy. “Good evening.”
No one responded nor even moved.
She kept her smile up but could feel the tension of the room humming about them all, as though filling the silent room with its own voice and words.
Finally, Henry stood and walked over to her. “Take a turn with me, and I shall introduce you.”
Dinah nodded her consent. Perhaps once introductions were made, things would ease between her and them all. One could only hope.
“If you don’t mind,” she whispered as they walked, “I ask that you introduce me as Dinah and not Lady Stanton.” Though she’d spoken most softly, in the stillness of the room, she wasn’t at all sure everyone had not heard her.
His expression turned slightly harder at her words. Henry stopped their small walk after only two steps and looked at her most pointedly. “Are you regretting the name already?”
He was testing her. At least, that’s how his stare made her feel. Testing her to see if she would openly disparage his name in front of his entire family. In her momentary silence, Henry’s gaze only intensified. It pierced into her, as though burrowing deep, intent on finding any weakness, any fear that lay hidden inside her.
Dinah’s lips only ticked up in response; if he thought he could intimidate her into giving up on making this new life her home, he was sorely mistaken.
“On the contrary,” she said, a bit louder this time. “When we meet your friends and associates, I will insist you introduce me as Lady Stanton. But here”—she waved a hand toward the room—“we are all family, and as such, I should like to be known as Dinah, for such is what my family has always called me.”
Far from appearing pleased that she’d trumped his challenge, his glare only darkened. Wordlessly, he led her first to the two gentlemen with glasses of brandy. Both eyed her with something like scowls as she and Henry walked their way.
“Evening, gentlemen,” Henry began. “May I make known to you my wife.” She was impressed he said the words with no hesitancy or obvious discomfort. She wasn’t at all sure she could have done the same. “You may call her Dinah.” Then Henry addressed her. “This is my uncle, Mr. Jeffrey Thrup, and his good friend, Mr. Wilson.”
Dinah curtsied as the two men inclined their heads in her direction.
