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Chapter Twenty
Dinah sat on the side of the courting bench that faced the hearth. With an elbow against the curved back of the bench, she rested her chin in her upturned hand. Henry was late. The family normally retired to the drawing room after dinner for a time. But no one stayed up very late, despite them currently residing in London. Perhaps it was because over half the occupants of Angleside Court were elderly, and a good portion of the rest had not yet reached adulthood.
Whatever the reason, Dinah had expected everyone to be in bed by now. Which meant that Henry ought to be next to her, speaking with her of his day.
He’d been clearly upset with her when she’d left him in the nursery, and he apparently hadn’t cooled between then and when they’d sat down to dinner. He’d also been glorious in his defense of her. But she knew him well enough to know he could be her champion while simultaneously being frustrated or even mad at her.
Small, beady eyes appeared beside the fireplace.
Dinah gave a small cry. But just as quickly as the golden eyes appeared, they were gone.
Gripping the courting bench tightly, Dinah focused on breathing easily. Her mind was playing tricks again.
She’d been upset last time she thought she’d seen a rat. It had turned out to be nothing. Not a single rodent had been seen in all of Angleside Court her entire time living there. She blamed it on Aunt Beatrice getting under her skin. Last time Henry’s aunt had said something horrid, Dinah had thought she’d seen a rat as well. What was it about Aunt Beatrice that made Dinah think she was seeing rats?
Why couldn’t the woman make her mad enough to see something pleasant? Like a cat, or a puppy? Dinah shuddered; she could not stand rats.
The soft sound of a door closing brought Dinah’s attention back to what she was doing here. Dinah turned around in the seat, looking back toward the door on the far side of the room which led to the corridor beyond. But it was still closed, Henry still nowhere to be seen. It must have been another door somewhere else, though nearby, that she had heard. More sounds reached her. The sounds of boots against the floor. Of someone shuffling about.
It sounded as though the noise was coming from Henry’s room. Dinah stood and hurried over to the door that connected their sitting room to his personal bedchamber. She pressed her ear against the door. Yes, someone was inside. A man spoke, and a second replied. That was Henry and his valet, if she wasn’t mistaken.
Of all the nerve. He was planning to retire for the night without speaking to her first? Without even sending her a note to explain he wouldn’t be joining her at the courting bench?
Oh, no. She wasn’t letting him go to bed before they had this out.
Dinah crossed before the hearth and entered her private bedchamber, then rang for her abigail. The young woman appeared almost immediately.
“I need you to go out into the corridor,” Dinah explained, “knock on Lord Stanton’s door and get him to come out into the corridor with you.”
“Excuse me, my lady?”
“Tell him you need to discuss...” Dinah looked about, hoping to stumble upon something that would work. “My hair brush.” Dinah picked up the brush from her dressing table and snapped it clean in two. It had only been a very inexpensive one she’d bought herself many years ago. “Tell him someone broke it, you have no idea who, but are scared to show it to me.”
“Beggin’ your pardon, my lady, but I think I am rather more scared to tell his lordship than I ever would be to tell you.”
Dinah held the two pieces of hairbrush out to her. “Well, don’t be. I know him quite well at this point, and I can assure you he may scowl a great deal and he might stare at you with that dark expression, but he will be fair and reasonable despite all his bluster.”
Her abigail slowly took the pieces. “Must I?”
Dinah placed a hand on either of her abigail’s arms. “Yes. I need you to do this for me.”
The young woman lifted her chin. “Very well, my lady. If you need it of me.” A moment later, the abigail was gone and Dinah was hurrying back through the sitting room. She pressed an ear against Henry’s door. She only had to wait a few minutes before the room grew still—Henry must have walked out into the corridor to speak with her abigail, as she’d hoped he would.
Dinah opened the door slowly and tiptoed into the bedchamber. She’d only been in here once before, and on that occasion, she’d been too distracted by the sight of a dripping wet Henry covered in no more than a sopping wet robe to notice anything else. Gracious, but he’d looked incredibly handsome, even disheveled and wet.
The room about her was quite similar to his office. Heavy curtains hung over the windows, and a dark blue spread covered the bed. The rug on the floor was not so thick as the one in the office but revealed a much more detailed design. The ornateness made her wonder if it wasn’t from the East Indies.
The door between Henry’s room and the corridor was slightly ajar. Dinah hurried toward it. She’d been right in guessing that it would swing inward, same as the door in her room. Dinah could barely hear her abigail’s soft voice coming from just outside.
Dinah softly shut the door, making sure it latched fully in place. Then she took hold of a nearby chair and angled it beneath the handle.
With all set the way she wanted, Dinah hurried back into the sitting room and took up her place on the bench, this time with her back toward the hearth and facing the door which led to the corridor.
Henry truly was a bit touched in the head if he thought he could avoid her simply because he wished it.
* * *
Henry listened as Dinah’s abigail said, yet again, that she had no idea who broke the brush. He turned the two pieces over in his hand. It wasn’t a particularly pretty brush. He’d seen much finer ones. No doubt, this one had been purchased during a time when Dinah had very little. Thinking of what her life must have been like not many years ago did strange things to Henry’s heart. Mostly, though, it steeled his resolve that she need never know want again.
