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All pleasantness slipped away from his face, leaving behind a stony, almost indifferent expression. Dinah didn’t believe for one minute that Uncle Jeffrey was truly indifferent toward Henry’s mother. No, he seemed more...angry, perhaps?
But why would that be?
At length, he spoke but didn’t look her in the eye. “My brother never should have married her.”
Thatwas both illuminating and wholly unhelpful.
“Why is that?” Dinah asked.
Uncle Jeffrey slowly shook his head. “If you wish to know more about Henry’s mother, you’d best ask him.” With nothing more than that, he bowed and left her there, staring up at the various images.
Not one of which was the late Lady Stanton.
Not one of which could tell Dinah why Henry’s mother was not among them.
* * *
“Are the boys down for their afternoon naps yet?”
Aunt Beatrice’s sharp voice shook Dinah from her deep thoughts. It sounded as though the woman’s voice had come from just around the corner. Dinah pressed forward, stopping when she came upon Aunt Beatrice and Emily.
“Yes, Aunt,” Emily said, her head bent low.
“That nursemaid is too young, in my estimation. Be sure you are always on her, make certain every detail is seen to, or your sons will suffer.”
“Yes, Aunt.”
“And have you seen to it yet that inquiries are being made regarding a tutor?
“Yes, Aunt.”
“You cannot secure a good instructor too soon. Now, what about you taking the boys outside every afternoon yourself? You must stop that immediately,” the older woman continued.
Emily’s head came up. “Oh, but Aunt, it is our special time together.”
“Nonsense. It would be unseemly if you sprouted freckles across your nose.”
Dinah’s lips pulled to the side. Emily was married and quite settled. It wasn’t as though she needed to attract a husband. “Excuse me,” Dinah said, coming to stand beside the other women, “but may I ask, who would care if Emily had freckles?” She’d seen the way Emily smiled while outside with her boys. Clearly, it was one of her favorite times of day. No one should be allowed to make her feel guilty or self-conscious over it.
“Society, of course,” Aunt Beatrice answered with a sniff. “One never rises so high as to be above scrutiny.”
“Of course, Aunt,” Emily said, her head dropping once more.
Dinah would not stand for this. Emily was a sweet thing, and her good nature was a blessing in her sons’ lives. They needed her goodness if they ever had any hope of growing into honorable gentlemen.
“I have to disagree,” Dinah said, squaring her shoulders and facing Aunt Beatrice fully. “There are things more important than what society may think of a few freckles.”
Aunt Beatrice’s smile turned cold. “Says the woman who could only secure herself a husband through scandal.”
Dinah’s cheeks burned—one part anger, one part pure humiliation. Of course that’s all this woman saw when she looked at Dinah. Nothing more than a silly chit who was too dumb, too naïve, to keep herself safe. She knew a sudden, intense urge to retreat. Explaining the truth of hers and Henry’s first meeting was out of the question, so there seemed little more she could do than to excuse herself and leave. Preferably before the older woman enumerated any more of the ways Dinah was less than the ideal woman.
Nonetheless, despite the growing, clawing desire to escape, Dinah ground her jaw and stood her ground. She could not stand up for herself, not effectively at least. But Emily didn’t deserve this vitriol.
“This isn’t about me,” Dinah said, firmly. “Emily is her own mistress, and she is free to spend her afternoons wherever and with whomever she pleases. Freckles or no. Society be hanged.”
“Well,” Aunt Beatrice huffed at Dinah’s course language.
Dinah hadn’t exactly intended for that much to slip out, but having been raised by a tradesman, some things had never truly left her.
