by Lucy Adams
Dinah’s lips twisted, as two small lines formed between her brows. Her cheeks caught with a little more color, and she shook her head. “I do not care anything for Lord Irving, Whitehaven,” she told him firmly, making Grayson’s heart leap with evident delight. “But that is not what I was thinking of. I have already made up my mind as regards the gentlemen of the ton, and there is nothing more to consider.”
Blinking at the hint of anger in her tone, Grayson tried to recover himself so that they could return to that quiet amicability that had been between them both only a few moments before. “I do not mean to pry,” he answered apologetically, half wishing he could take her arm so that he could squeeze it gently and allow her to know the truth of what he felt. “I apologize if you believe that I am doing so.”
He wanted desperately to ask her what it was that had been on her mind as she walked through the gardens, half hoping that it had been himself she had thought of, even though he knew that such a thought was nothing more than foolishness.
“And I should not have spoken sharply,” she replied, sighing and shaking her head. “I apologize again, Whitehaven.”
“You have nothing to–”
“I often think of my parents when I walk here,” she continued, interrupting him as her voice became wistful. “I think of my mother, who so often told me that the path for my life would show itself to me should I only continue to follow God.” A slightly frustrated sound came into her voice, and she bit her lip for a moment. “Except that path has not become clear.”
Grayson sighed to himself, irritated that he had not immediately thought of Dinah’s parents when it came to wondering what it was she thought of. Of course, it would be them. His own sense of shame came over him again as he remembered how little he had cared about Dinah’s loss. Having been caught up with his own confusing emotions and his determination to rid himself of such things, he had never truly considered what it would be like to lose not one but both parents in one horrific moment. Dinah had been left an orphan, had been forced to leave the continent where her home had been, and had come to start afresh in England. He could not even imagine the struggle.
“For what it is worth, cousin, and this may come a great deal too late, I am sorry for what you have lost.” He threw out one hand in a gesture of hopelessness. “I wish there was something more I could say, something more that I might do in order to share with you my own shame over my lack of compassion for you in these last years, for I recognize now that I have been quite selfish.”
This seemed to surprise Dinah, for her eyes widened just a little and her brows rose high, looking at him as though she had never truly seen him before.
“I hide a good many things away,” he finished, shrugging. “Even from myself, I think. I like to ignore my idiocy, my mistakes, and my wrongdoings.”
“That is something I believe we all do,” she replied with no hint of malice in her voice. “And it may come as a surprise to you, Whitehaven, but I do, in fact, appreciate your apology. It has been very difficult to endure the loss of my dear mother and father, whilst attempting to appreciate all that has been given to me thereafter.” She swallowed, her eyes glistening with tears as she looked away from him.
“How was it you came to England?” he asked softly, not wanting to push her to answer more than she wished. “Who was left to take care of you?”
There was a short pause, and then Dinah let out a long breath, carried away by the small gust of wind. “My father had a steward within the house,” she replied, sorrowfully. “He was not killed. Nor were any of the other household staff, and together, they came to care for me until it was time for me to leave them.” A sob caught in her throat, but she did not stop, only hesitating for a moment until she could capture her breath again. “My parents were the only ones taken.”
Grayson’s heart began to ache for her, his compassion growing into something so large that it seemed to explode from his chest. Without a moment of hesitation, he linked arms with her, putting his hand on her arm and pressing it gently. This did not seem to surprise Dinah—for instead of gasping and pulling away, she simply looked up at him with a small, grateful smile.
“I do not know how the thieves managed to get into our house,” she continued, her voice hoarse and yet pulsing with a hidden strength. “The servants were all gone out for the evening, for there was to be some sort of soiree of sorts within our small community and my father did not want a single one of our staff to miss it.”
“A kind gentleman,” Grayson commented, thinking that he would never have thought to even consider such a thing.
“The kindest you would ever meet,” Dinah agreed, closing her eyes for a moment as they continued to meander slowly through the gardens. “My mother was thrilled that the staff would be able to attend. We had been for a short time but had then returned home earlier than expected.” Tears began to stream from her eyes. “If we had remained a little longer, then mayhap we would have returned only after the thieves had gone.”
Grayson’s heart ached all the more at the sorrow in her eyes and the pain in her voice. “If this is too difficult, Dinah, then–”
She shook her head. “No. I want you to know this.” Taking in a shaking breath, she half clung to him as she continued, her fingers tight on his arm. “I went to my room to change, only to hear my mother’s scream. I wanted to go to her, wanted to help with whatever was wrong, but I soon heard another voice, another exclamation.”
“Where did you go?” Grayson asked, as quietly as he could. “You were kept safe from them, were you not?”
“I hid under my bed,” Dinah whispered, tears still falling like the rain. “They did not enter my bedchamber for some reason, although I could not say why. Perhaps they had already robbed it.” She sucked in another ragged breath, wiping her cheeks with her other hand. “I did not discover my parents, however. It was one of the servants as they returned from the soiree. They made certain I did not see them until they had been laid out, with only their pale faces revealed.” She came to a stop, her breathing coming in short, sharp gasps as she let go of the pain that had been in her heart for so long. “And then I was sent here. My father’s steward arranged it all, and I am grateful to you for being so willing to have me reside in the estate.”
He wanted to remind her that it had not been his choice, given that Lady Whitehaven had overruled each and every objection that had come from anyone’s lips, but instead he stayed silent. Turning towards her and looking down at her tear-streaked face, Grayson closed his eyes and felt his own mortification stab him like a knife. He had never once heard her speak so, had never thought to enquire. Instead, he had simply presumed that she was managing with her grief and had never once even asked about the details of her parents death. It was utterly horrific what had occurred, and he could not imagine what terror she must have felt on that dark night.
“I am sorry, Dinah.” His words were broken with emotion as he opened his eyes and looked down at her, seeing her nod gently and yet still her tears fell. She was so willing to accept his apologies without any question, without any difficulties when it came to forgiveness. She was pure of spirit, and he so broken. “I should have considered your pain long before this moment,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You have endured so very much and yet have remained so strong.”
“I have had your family to depend on,” she answered him, although Grayson knew all too well that he was not included in such a statement. “And God has helped me through it.”
“I am here to aid you now,” he told her, not knowing what it was he meant by such a statement and certainly having very little idea as to what he could do in particular but nevertheless wanting her to understand that he was no longer going to be entirely dismissive of her pain. “If there is ever anything I can do to help you, Dinah, then you need only ask.”
She did not say anything but looked up into his eyes, her tears beginning to dry on her cheeks. And then, much to his astonishment, she leaned forward and r
ested her head on his shoulder, his hands dropping from her arm.
Grayson went hot all over, looking down at Dinah’s blonde head as it rested on his shoulder and feeling himself entirely inadequate. He had no other choice but to put his arms about her, holding her close to him and aware of just how quickly his heart began to beat at the sheer joy that came from having her in his arms. He did not deserve this, of course, for he was nothing more than a selfish, arrogant cad who made foolish choices and still continued along his chosen path regardless of what it would bring. The vowels and the threatening letter were on his desk as evidence of that.
Closing his eyes, Grayson sighed heavily, keeping his arms about Dinah and telling himself that, even though he knew there could be nothing between them, even though he would never even consider saddling her with someone such as he, he would merely enjoy this moment for what it was. The sensation of having her in his arms, of knowing that she had willingly gone to him for comfort wrapped itself around his heart, squeezing it gently and pushing away some of his own distress. At least now he knew Dinah better. He understood her pain, could know of her struggles and could attempt, in his own way, to comfort her in them.
That was all he was doing at the present, he told himself. Comforting her. Sharing her grief and allowing her to share it with him. After how he had treated her these last few years, it was the very least he could do.
“I thank you, Grayson.”
Dinah’s words were muffled as she remained in his arms, sniffing once or twice as she attempted to get ahold of her emotions.
“You are more than welcome, my dear lady,” he murmured, his gentle words bringing a peace to his own soul as well as to Dinah’s. “Whenever you wish to speak of it, know that I am now, finally, more than willing to listen to you. Even though it is, of course, much too late.”
Her head lifted, and she looked up into his eyes. “It is not too late,” she answered softly. “At least, I do not think so.”
Grayson’s mouth filled with sand as he gazed down into her eyes and thought her one of the most beautiful young ladies he had ever had the chance to meet. Wanting to say something, wanting to say more to her, he struggled to find anything of comprehension to say until, finally, he managed to come up with something.
“Thank you, Dinah,” he muttered, as she rested her head on his shoulder again. “You take after your father, I think, for you have the kindest heart I think I have ever seen. You are a credit to your parents. They would be very proud of you.”
Dinah’s hand pressed lightly against his chest, her body trembling for a moment as she battled more tears. Grayson held her tightly, knowing that he had meant every word. The air grew thick about him, sweat began to run down his back and still, he held her. He would not let her go until she stepped back out of his arms, wanting to reassure her that he would, as he had said, always be there for her to turn to when the pain became too great or her mind became too heavy.
Until she finds a husband, he thought, his eyes closing with the pain that washed over him, making him buckle for a moment. And then you will no longer be required. You will be left behind whilst she turns to her husband instead of to you.
What would he do then?
Chapter Seven
“For your name’s sake,” Dinah murmured, ignoring the way her knees had begun to ache. “Amen.” Letting out her breath, she opened her eyes and looked about the room, feeling a sense of disquiet still within her soul. She had prayed for a long time and had read her prayer book also, and still no peace came to her.
“Whitehaven.”
Getting up slowly and wincing at the pain in her knees, Dinah waited until they had recovered themselves somewhat before wandering to the window, thinking that perhaps praying a little more might help her forget what she was feeling for Lord Whitehaven. He had been so cruel to her before, so unkind and unwelcoming, and yet now he appeared to be sorry for how he had treated her. He had said so, for he had apologized to her profusely, and she had accepted it without question. When he had come to the gardens, when they had spoken and when she had discovered herself wanting to tell him everything she had endured, she had found him so markedly changed that something within her had cried out for him. It had become so overwhelming that she had stepped into his arms without even thinking of it, wanting to be right there, wanting to be in his arms and praying that he would allow her to do so.
He had held her tightly and yet with such a gentleness that Dinah had felt as though she were a china ornament, delicate and yet liable to break. Lord Whitehaven had said nothing, simply holding her until she was ready to step away from him and continue her walk through the gardens with him by her side.
Except, he had needed to excuse himself. Oh, the ache in her heart as she had watched him leave, feeling as though there had been something tremendous between them, something wonderful that had not yet quite reached its fullness, only to be dashed away with every step he took away from her.
“Foolishness,” she muttered, rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand and perching on the windowsill for a moment or two, looking out into the darkness. It was nothing but foolishness to allow her heart to feel anything for Lord Whitehaven, for he was not the sort of gentleman she would ever be happy with. Yes, he had shown her that he could be kind and compassionate, but that did not mean that he would also give up his vices. She could not consider someone such as he.
And yet, her feelings were growing steadily, growing with a strength that frightened her. She found herself wanting to be in his company, wanting to be with him in whatever he did. Part of her longed to keep him from his vices so that he might discover an enjoyment that came without liquor and cards. She was certain there could be a happiness between them that would linger without the need to turn to gambling, to coarseness and frivolity that disregarded others entirely. Sighing heavily, Dinah closed her eyes and rubbed at her forehead again, feeling a slight ache beginning to develop just behind her eyes. It was Lord Whitehaven that continued to linger on her mind, continued to make her question what she knew and what she felt. Lord Whitehaven had two characters – one where he was quiet, compassionate, and caring, and another where he was loud, brash, selfish, and entirely inconsiderate. She could not understand him, could not make him out. Which character was he, truly? Did he simply turn to his vices to hide something from himself? Was it a way to forget how he felt about his limp, so that he would no longer feel inferior in his own mind?
“I do not know,” she murmured impatiently, getting up from the windowsill and wondering if she ought to change. They had been at a dinner earlier that evening, with Titania residing with them now, given that her husband had been forced to return to the estate to deal with a matter of business. He would return to London very soon, but for the moment, Titania was with them. Would she still be awake? Most likely, yes, for Titania had always said she did not like to retire early. Mayhap she would be in the library or the drawing room. Dinah considered that she might quite like some company, for whilst she had prayed and read, she still did not have the peace she had been searching for. It had not come to her as easily as she had thought it might, leaving her worrying about what was going on in her heart.
“My path does not seem to be as easily laid out as I had hoped,” she said to herself, picking up a shawl and throwing it over her shoulders as she walked towards the door. Her thought of becoming a nun, of going to a convent and leaving her worldly life still held appeal, yes, but Dinah knew she could not even consider it until her feelings for Lord Whitehaven left her entirely. Only then could she focus the entirety of her thoughts on God, as she would be expected to do.
“And as I want to do,” she said aloud, her voice bounding off the walls as she made her way to the library. The problem was, she realized, wincing a little, was that she was trying to convince herself that this was what she truly wanted when the truth was that she was not entirely sure herself.
A sudden exclamation and the sound of a door slamming hard against the w
all made her jump, her heart thundering furiously – only to see Titania hurrying towards her, although her eyes were fixed straight ahead as though she did not see Dinah.
“Titania?” Dinah asked, making Titania let out a little yelp of surprise. “Whatever is the matter?”
Titania hesitated, then shook her head. “It is nothing. It is not your concern, Dinah.”
Her curiosity piqued, Dinah put one hand on Titania’s arm. “Is something wrong?” she asked, a little concerned Lady Whitehaven was unwell or some such thing. “What can I do to help?”
Titania let out a long breath and shook her head, her expression set and angry. “It is nothing other than my foolish brother,” she stated firmly. “You need not worry, Dinah. I will be back shortly.”
“Back?” Dinah repeated, one hand at her heart as she let go of Titania’s arm. “You cannot mean to say that you are going out in search of him!”
Titania waved a hand. “Now is not the time for your comments regarding my lack of propriety, Dinah,” she said with a hint of frustration in her eyes. “My brother is, according to the servants who seem to know everything, being set upon by two gentlemen outside a particular establishment. I must go and fetch him.”
Dinah shook her head, her panic mounting with every second that passed. “You cannot go alone, Titania.”
“I have no choice,” Titania replied, shaking off Dinah’s restraining hand. “Mother is asleep, and I would not waken her for fear of what she would say or think over my brother’s lack of propriety.”
Dinah’s heart ached with a sudden sorrow over Lord Whitehaven’s behavior, wondering yet again how someone could appear so kind and compassionate all of a sudden, only to fall back into yet another vice.