London Season Matchmaker Box Set: Regency Romance

by Lucy Adams

  Dinah let out a long breath, wincing inwardly with the knowledge that she had deliberately hidden the truth from Lady Whitehaven as regarded her son. In fact, more than that, she had lied to Lady Whitehaven outrightly, telling her that Lord Whitehaven had taken ill and wanted to stay in his rooms in darkness until he was recovered. Lady Whitehaven had been instantly worried about him and had sent for a doctor, who was taken into Lord Whitehaven’s confidences as regarded keeping the truth of his condition from his mother. The doctor had obeyed, of course, and had reassured Lady Whitehaven that her son required only rest and quiet until he recovered, which should be within the week.

  That had been three days ago. Since then, either Titania or Dinah or both of them had been sitting with him in the late hours of the evening, making certain that Lord Whitehaven was recovering and did not require anything. There had not been much conversation, however, which meant that Dinah did not know the truth about what had occurred to leave Lord Whitehaven in such a state, nor how he felt about her presence with him. Titania had reported that her brother had been utterly silent with her also, which brought Dinah a sense of relief.

  Jerked back to the present and the letter that Lady Whitehaven had given her, Dinah looked down at the seal and saw that it was from her father’s solicitors. They had been in touch a good deal when she had first arrived in England, informing her of her dowry and such, but she had not heard from them in some time. There appeared to be no need to do so. Frowning, she saw how the address had been rewritten. Evidently, the solicitors had sent it to the estate, and it had then been forwarded to her here in London. Turning it over, she broke the seal and began to read.

  Her heart leapt in her chest as she read it. The letter was brief but to the point. Her father’s house, remaining possessions, and everything else that had belonged to the admiral had been sold, and the money was now finally ready. It was settled into her account and entirely at her disposal.

  But it was not this that filled Dinah with such surprise. Rather, it was the sheer amount of money that was revealed in the letter. It was more than she had ever expected, more than she could ever dream of! If she lived on this carefully, then it would do her very well for the rest of her life!

  Suddenly, many possibilities opened up to her. Possibilities that she had never even considered. She could buy a small cottage and live there quietly. There would be no need to join with a convent, for she could concentrate on her faith in solitude whilst still be able to greet her family whenever they wished to see her. Lady Whitehaven would have to content herself with the fact that Dinah did not want to marry, which would come about in time, and at the very least, she would be content with the knowledge that Dinah would not be left to struggle through life with very little to support her. With this money, her whole world would change.

  But what of Whitehaven?

  Dinah sighed and buried her face in her hands, feeling the same sting of sadness catching her. The same sadness that came whenever she thought of never seeing him again. It had only come upon her the last few days. Previously, she had been delighted to be set apart from him, but now things had changed so very much that she was not at all certain what she felt for him at all. She was frustrated, confused, and sad over Lord Whitehaven. He had seemed so changed, only to lose himself in his vices all over again. But the regret in his eyes had told her more than he had ever said to her before.

  When he had questioned what she must think of him now, Dinah had heard the shame in his voice and had felt her heart go out to him. The man was struggling with his own sense of self-worth, allowing his limp to be seen as a weakness in his own eyes. If he could only allow himself to believe that he was not looked down upon, that if he should only try, then a good few young ladies would wish to dance with him, then mayhap things would change for him entirely.

  Her heart ached.

  “Miss Shepherd?”

  She looked up at once, dropping her hands to her lap and seeing the maid drop into a quick curtsy, clearly embarrassed at having disturbed Dinah at what was obviously a very private moment.

  “Yes?” she asked, glad that her voice was not particularly hoarse. “What is it?”

  “It is the master,” the maid said quickly. “He’s asked to speak to you, Miss Shepherd.”

  Dinah’s stomach tightened. “I see,” she replied, trying to keep her voice as steady as she could. “Might I ask you what he wishes to speak to me about?”

  The maid looked nonplussed, and Dinah cursed her foolishness. Of course the maid would not know such a thing, but in her nervousness, Dinah had asked something without thinking.

  “Where is he?” she asked, folding up her letter and placing it in her pocket as she rose. “Is he still abed?”

  The maid shook her head. “Lady Whitehaven has gone to take tea with a friend and so Lord Whitehaven has made his way to the library,” she said, a slight flush to her cheeks. “Should I bring you a tea tray, Miss Shepherd?”

  Dinah nodded her thanks and moved toward the door, not wanting to keep Lord Whitehaven waiting. Her heart was racing, and she was certain that her own cheeks were a bright red, matching those of the maid. She did not know why she kept having such a strong reaction to the thought of being in Lord Whitehaven’s presence, particularly when he wanted to speak to her. Thinking of the letter in her pocket, Dinah wondered whether or not she ought to share her news with anyone in her family. Lady Whitehaven would need to know of it at some point, but her first reaction was to speak to Lord Whitehaven about it. Would he understand her plans to live alone? Or would he be entirely against them?

  Having no further time to consider this, Dinah cleared her throat, put a small smile on her face, and stepped into the library. The day was bright and the drapes were pulled back, letting in beautiful sunlight into every corner of the room. Lord Whitehaven was sitting by the fireplace, even though there was no fire burning there today, with his eyes fixed on something Dinah could not quite make out. He did not turn towards her as she approached, although she was certain that he was aware of her presence. Walking into the room, she smiled tentatively as she reached him, watching his gaze and seeing that he was, in fact, staring at a bottle of the finest French brandy and an empty glass.

  “I believe you wished to speak to me, Whitehaven,” she said, looking back at him and taking in his bruised face. “Are you all right?” His eye was still purple in places, with a good deal of green and yellow bruising about it. The injury to his head was covered by his dark hair flopping over it, but there was another large bruise to his cheek and a swelling to his jaw. Dinah knew that if he saw Lady Whitehaven any time soon, there would be no hiding that he had been badly beaten.

  “I have been doing a great deal of thinking, Dinah,” Lord Whitehaven said, his tone low and his expression dark. “That there is a source of a good many of my problems.”

  Dinah did not need to look at the brandy again to know what he meant. “It can be,” she said carefully, making sure not to say too much. “If one is not careful, I suppose.”

  Lord Whitehaven looked up at her from his chair, his dark green eyes brooding. “What does the good book say about liquor, Dinah? Am I condemned simply by drinking it?”

  She shook her head. “No, indeed not. It is just drunkenness that is warned against, Whitehaven.”

  He snorted. “I can well understand why,” he muttered, passing a hand over his eyes. “Do you see the state of me still, Dinah? This is all my own doing because I drink too much and forget all sense. I lose my head and do ridiculously foolish things, and now I am in great debt.”

  Dinah’s chest tightened as she stared at Lord Whitehaven, finally realizing what it was that had caused him to be so badly beaten.

  “You are correct in your assertion,” Lord Whitehaven muttered, even though she had said nothing. “I owe money to a good many gentleman and one person, for some reason, had purchased all of my vowels, and it is to he that I now owe.”

  “And you do not have the money?” Dinah ask
ed, sinking down into a chair and watching Lord Whitehaven intently. “Is that what the trouble is?”

  Lord Whitehaven let out a long, pained sigh. “This is where you will think all the worse of me, for what must be the twentieth time,” he told her, looking still at bottle of brandy. “Yes, I do have the money, but it is tied up with the solicitors and I must request it from them. It will take some days to retrieve all of it and, in doing so, I must then pull money from what was to be repairs to the tenants’ houses.” He lowered his head all the more, clearly ashamed of his behavior. “It has taken me years to ensure that the estate is profitable again, and I was so glad when the coffers began to improve that I fear I rather lost my head,” he muttered, his voice barely audible as he looked down at his lap rather than at her. “I have gambled every year when you and my sisters and my mother have been in London. I have gone to Bath to do so, and then this year, since there has only been you left, I thought to come to London to seek out the gambling dens here.” A groaned exclamation left his lips as he ran both hands over his face. “And not only that, I did not dare go back to Bath due to the debts I had run up but never paid. And now it seems that this one gentleman, whomever he may be, has found every single one of my debts and has paid for them all.”

  Dinah pressed her lips together and laced her fingers. “And he was the one who beat you so violently?”

  Lord Whitehaven shrugged, his head still low. “I do not know who is behind it,” he said hopelessly. “Nor do I understand why such a thing is occurring. I went last evening with some of the money I owed, but it was not accepted. That is why the servants knew of what had occurred to me, for the footman who came with me had the money and was thereafter forced to take it back here again.” Lifting his head, he set it back against the chair and regarded her hopelessly. “I wanted to tell you everything, Dinah, so you knew precisely why I have been so injured. And also so that you are fully aware of the depths of depravity in which I lie.” A mirthless smile crossed his face. “Perhaps you might pray for me.”

  “Of course,” Dinah whispered, not quite sure what else she was to say. “I-I wish there was more I could do, but–”

  “It is not your burden to carry,” he replied heavily. “It is mine. Therefore, Dinah, I need you not to have any concerns over me any longer. There is nothing that you can do nor say that will aid me in any way and, besides which….” He trailed off, perhaps struggling to compose himself. “Besides which, I do not deserve it.”

  Dinah shook her head. “Grace and mercy are given freely, are they not?” she answered, coming close to him for fear that he would fall into an even deeper despondency if she did not. Crouching beside him with one hand resting on the arm of the chair in which he sat, she looked up into his face. “Therefore, that is what I offer you.” A sudden idea hit her, wanting to give him something he could cling to that would not have him refuse to allow her in his company any longer. “Have I ever told you, Whitehaven, that I have been lately considering what life must be like for a nun?”

  “A nun?” This seemed to shock him greatly for he turned his head towards her, his dark emerald eyes glinting at her.

  “I have been considering it, yes,” she told him, not wanting to mention her fortune. “I have thought about devoting my life to the faith and I–”

  “But why should you want to go there?” He was sitting up a little straighter now, his hand finding hers as it rested on the chair, and his fingers tightening upon her own. Dinah felt herself react inwardly, her heart clamoring with a wild fury and her mouth going dry, but she tried her best not to show it. Instead, she simply nodded and tried to explain.

  “I have not wanted to marry, as you well know. I have not found any gentleman eager of my company, and I myself have not found anyone who might fit the role of husband.”

  Lord Whitehaven frowned. “Lord Irving is interested in you, is he not? And what precisely is wrong with him?”

  Dinah pursed her lips and tried to explain. “Lord Irving exhorts no feelings within me,” she said, looking away and a little embarrassed. “I feel nothing for him. In fact, I find his manner rather overwhelming and am disinclined to be in his company.”

  A look of understanding dawned on Lord Whitehaven’s face, but still his fingers remained caught between hers, holding on as though they might never part from her again.

  “I therefore do not think that I shall ever be inclined to marry,” she continued, aware that she was speaking at a much quicker pace now, as if she wanted to have her explanations given to him as soon as possible “So why should I not consider a convent?” Suddenly, Dinah found herself disinclined to speak to him about the letter she had just received. It was too soon, too sudden, she told herself. Besides which, there was a part of her that wanted to discover what he truly felt of her thoughts of becoming a nun.

  Lord Whitehaven shook his head, sighing grievously as though she had harmed him. “It is because I have been unwelcoming towards you that you now seek to leave the estate in such a manner?” he asked, his eyes lifting to her face and searching them fervently. “Has my manner pushed you to this decision?”

  “It may have done,” Dinah answered truthfully, seeing him wince. “But I have also considered that given my lack of desire to marry then a convent may very well be an excellent choice.”

  “But I do not want you to go there.”

  Dinah’s breath caught in her chest, her heart furious in its rhythm as she looked up into Lord Whitehaven’s eyes. There was no mockery in his words, no sense that he was teasing her or trying to pretend that he felt more than he did. Instead, it felt as though he had swept her up into his warm embrace once more, holding her close as if he might never let her go.

  “I do not want you to go,” he said again, his voice now a little hoarse. “Say that you will not seek to join a convent, Dinah. I could not imagine seeing you so rarely, for I do not think that I would be a welcome visitor, given my reputation and my dark, blackening sins.”

  Closing her eyes, Dinah let out a long breath and set her shoulders. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she would not go, that she would, in fact, seek out another future for herself, but something prevented her from doing so.

  “I would do anything I could to convince you not to become a nun, although I should, mayhap, be congratulating you on your passion and your devotion,” Lord Whitehaven continued in a broken voice. “I am not that sort of gentleman, Dinah. I speak what is within my heart without consideration of what one ought to do.” Leaning down to her, he reached out and, for a moment, Dinah thought he might brush his fingers down her cheek, only for him to hesitate, mutter something under his breath, and sit back. His hand loosened from hers and was pulled slowly back onto his lap.

  The sound of footsteps coming towards the door had Dinah rising to her feet at once, her face coloring with both embarrassment and the knowledge that Lord Whitehaven had pulled away from her when they had been on the very cusp of something more extraordinary than she had ever felt before. The rap on the door came as no surprise, and the tea tray was brought in almost at once. Silence fell between Dinah and Lord Whitehaven as the maid set the things out, quietly asking Lord Whitehaven if he wanted anything before departing again. Dinah looked down at the tea tray dispassionately, her heart beginning to ache with a pain that she did not understand. Lord Whitehaven was not the sort of gentleman that she ought to have any sort of consideration for, and yet the urge to be more to him than she was at present still grew steadily.

  “I will give it all up, you know.”

  Lord Whitehaven was not looking at her and his voice was so quiet that she had to strain to hear him.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, sitting down carefully and reaching to pour the tea – not because she wanted a cup but rather so that it would give her something to do whilst Lord Whitehaven spoke.

  “I would give up the gambling in its entirety, Dinah, if you were to agree not to join the convent.”

  Her head lifted sharply
, her hand shaking as she set down the teapot.

  “I mean every word,” he told her quietly. “I would give it all up for you, should you agree.”

  It was one of the most beautiful things anyone had ever said to her and, for a few moments, Dinah was forced to hold back her tears. Whilst Lady Whitehaven and her cousins had been welcoming and loving, and whilst they had put up with a good deal of what Dinah knew now had been a very difficult attitude from herself, she had never had anything of such importance offered her. It told her that Lord Whitehaven truly did wish for her to remain and that, in his own way, he was trying to show her that he was honest in his intentions.

  “Tell me, Dinah, if you will stay.” Lord Whitehaven rose to his feet, coming a little closer to where she sat. “If I swear to you that I shall never gamble again, along with all that such a decision entails, then will you stay here? You will not seek out a convent?” His hand rested on her shoulder, sending a tingle down her arm as Dinah struggled to deal with her overwhelming emotions. “Tell me, Dinah. I must know.”

  His expression was one of utter torment, his voice begging her to stay. She could not refuse him now, especially when she herself had been questioning whether or not becoming a nun was the right choice for her. With her letter in her pocket and the promise of enough money to keep her settled and contented for the remainder of her days, Dinah knew precisely what she was to do.