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Wandering through different corridors—now seemed like as good a time as any to get to know the entire house—Dinah found a library, a music room, a parlor, and all the other rooms one expected in such a large and elegant home. All were dark, however. All were lifeless.
Had she not been that woman who turned her nose up every time she heard of an acquaintance who’d chosen money over affection? Yet, in a way, she’d done the same. In an effort to save her own name, she’d taken on the name of a man who was barely more than a stranger.
Dinah opened a door and peered inside. The room was dark, but a bit of moonlight slipped between the drawn curtains. The feel of this room was different than the others. Something about it called to Dinah and whispered she enter. The space was too dark to immediately identify its purpose. Glancing about to assure herself that no one was around, Dinah slipped into the room, shutting the door behind her. In the darkness, she slowly felt her way toward the window. The curtain was heavy, but she drew it back, allowing more starlight into the space. There was a desk to her left and bookshelves all along the walls to her right. This was an office, if she wasn’t mistaken.
And, no doubt, it was Henry’s.
She could nearly feel him in this room. His propensity to experience life fully seemed to permeate everything about her. He was here in the oversized wingbacks by the hearth. He was here in the dark wood and the deep blues. He was here in the thick curtains and the plush rug. Dinah moved toward the desk. Ink bottles and quills were lined up on one side, a few ledgers on the other. Though no one had come directly out and said as much at dinner, Dinah had been able to surmise that, for all Henry’s moods, as David had called them, he took the care of his family quite seriously.
More than the good food and elegant home he provided them all, Dinah had not missed that Mr. Thrup and Mr. Wilson had sought Henry out after dinner to speak with him. She’d not forgotten how Miles and Oliver swelled with pride at the thought that Henry had spoken of them to her. She’d noticed that Henry’s three nephews had not only taken their dinner with the family instead of in the nursery, but had done so in a manner that clearly denoted this was the norm for them, not the exception. Even David, who had just complained of his brother’s silent brooding, was also clearly concerned with Henry’s happiness. Aunt Beatrice, Dinah had yet to figure out, but part of her suspected that the elderly woman’s blunt conversation was more aimed to shock and scare Dinah than it truly was about her beliefs regarding Henry.
They all loved him because he saw to their needs. He was their friend and protector.
Knowing she’d married such a man did strange things to Dinah’s stomach.
Knowing that such a man was currently angry with her also did strange things inside her. Mostly, though, that bit of knowledge made her want to march back upstairs and demand they talk. She’d suspected Henry was upset with her, but hearing David voice the same concerns she’d had all dinner long only settled her resolve. She may not know much about being married, and she certainly didn’t know much about her new husband, but shedidknow that letting things fester would only lead to more trouble. Talking out any and all problems they had was the only way this relationship was going to work—platonic or otherwise.
Dinah left the office and hurried toward hers and Henry’s rooms. With any luck, David and Emily’s personal conversation would have come to an end and the corridor would be empty. Either way, she needed to speak with Henry before he retired for the night.
