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Chapter Ten
It had taken some time before Henry’s aunt had calmed down enough that they could all sit for dinner. Through the entire meal, hardly anyone had said a word since Aunt Beatrice had filled the room with her complaints and instructions for Dinah the entire time. Even now, as they sat in the drawing room, the elderly woman would not grant Dinah, or anyone, a bit of peace.
“Julia cannot be trusted with getting a stain out of a dress,” Aunt Beatrice said. “Leah is much better at that sort of thing, but she is terrible at polishing the silver.”
Dinah silently nodded, just as she had been all evening. Coming from someone else, the insights into how Angleside Court was run might have been helpful. But Aunt Beatrice somehow managed to make each sentence sound like she was condemning Dinah to utter failure. In her heart of hearts, the elderly woman probably did firmly believe Dinah would fail as mistress of such a grand estate. The Mulgrave family had been gossiped about enough in London that Aunt Beatrice was probably fully aware Dinah had never been raised to such a station as the one she now was in.
Still, the list of maids and manservants was beginning to feel never-ending, the condemnation coming from the woman’s eyes unrelenting. Dinah was quite certain she’d never remember half of what Aunt Beatrice was telling her.
“Now, as for the stablehands—”
Heaven help her.
“Lewis is the one to ask for if your horse is acting out of sorts. The man is quite a dab hand at figuring out what may be ailing a horse. However, when Henry’s gone for a hard ride, Neil is the one he always asks for as he is the most thorough at rubbing down the horse and seeing he is properly fed and rested from exertion. Your horse, though, won’t be tasked with anything as arduous as a bruising ride, so either Lewis or Jeffrey are fine to request.”
So many names. They were all blurring in Dinah’s mind. “I don’t have a horse,” was all she could get out amidst the barrage of servants, staff, and the constant list regarding who was best at what.
“What do you mean you don’t have a horse?” Aunt Beatrice looked personally offended that Dinah would say as such.
“I’ve never before had a need for my own horse as I could borrow Eliza’s mount, Starfire, anytime I pleased.” Or so her father had said so many times, Dinah repeated the words easily, as though they’d been her own. In truth, she’d longed for a horse of her own for ages. They’d never had the means to afford more than the two horses, Eliza’s and Father’s. Consequently, Dinah was regulated to only riding Starfire when Eliza wasn’t. Yet again, Dinah had been expected to accept someone else’s castoffs and be happy about it.
Aunt Beatrice pursed her lips as she leaned back atop the settee. “Any woman of standing should have her own horse. It is the only proper way.” She tsked. “A lady’s horse and ability to ride shows her good breeding and high standing among society.”
“I can ride,” Dinah said, trying and failing to keep most of the defensiveness out of her tone.
It wasn’t as though she couldn’t even be trusted with a horse. She simply didn’t have one she could call her own. And though she may have been raised with fewer niceties, with less frivolity than Aunt Beatrice seemed to think was necessary to prove one’s worth, Dinah was still quite confident in her own riding ability.
For the first time since Dinah had met the older woman, Aunt Beatrice fell silent. She was probably miffed to find Dinah less refined than she’d hoped. But just at the moment, Dinah couldn’t seem to care. If the woman had not wanted Henry to land himself in an arranged marriage, then she should have taught him that when a woman says she can see herself home alone, he should trust her and let her return home alone.
Speaking of the man, he wasstillscowling at her. Even with her back to him and he sitting with Mr. Thrup and Mr. Wilson across the room, Dinah could feel his glare pressing against her spine.
In the short reprieve from Aunt Beatrice’s constant instruction, Dinah suddenly became aware that her neck was aching, and dinner was not sitting well. Gracious, but she was exhausted. She’d not even realized how much until now. Dinah lifted a hand, pressed a few fingers against her temple, and closed her eyes. So much had happened that day. She’d gotten married, met her new family, been told by her husband that he would never love her. Never had she experienced such a full day.
Aunt Beatrice’s words came quietly and from nearer than before, though they were no less harsh. “If you wish to retire for the evening, you’ll have to give Henry a more obvious signal than that.”
Dinah opened a single eye. “Pardon me?”
“A woman does not get to be my age and not realize the coarser side of life,” Aunt Beatrice huffed, but blessedly still kept her voice soft enough as to not be overheard. “A man only agrees to marry a woman for one reason, truly.”
Dinah’s chest heated with an unexpected urge to stand up for Henry. “He agreed to marry me because he is a man of honor.”
Aunt Beatrice eyed her. “If you were not sitting there in your perfect gown, with perfectly set curls, and a perfectly young face, I might actually believe you.”
How dare she say such a thing about her own nephew, about Dinah.
It was too much.
Dinah stood abruptly. “If you will excuse me, I think I shall retire. And if Henry asks after me, if you would be so kind as tonotsay anything, that would be appreciated.”
Aunt Beatrice’s eyes went wide, and her mouth hung open at the insult. Dinah didn’t even bother to curtsy but turned on her heel and marched from the room. Though she never looked his way, she could feel Henry’s gaze on her as she left.
She moved into the corridor and hurried toward the stairs. Never had some time alone in her bedchamber sounded so enticing. Reaching the top of the stairs, Dinah turned toward the family wing, only to pause almost immediately.
Two beady eyes blinked in her direction.
Dinah’s stomach was instantly in her throat. Icy gooseflesh crept across her skin. Surely that wasn’t...it couldn’t be...
But her mind couldn’t seem to think clearly—her arms and legs unable to move.
