Mr. Jennings and David were coming toward them by the time they reached the group. Mr. Littlefield’s stone had been adequately praised and was now out of view, and Mrs. Macarthur was talking about her brother who’d had an extensive rock collection when he was younger. To Dina it sounded like a forced and tinny justification for a situation that did not look or feel right to any of them.
“Well, shall we configure the carriages, then?” Miss Johansson said in that bright voice Dina no longer trusted.
“Same carriages,” David said in a sharp enough tone that no one questioned it. He nodded to the group and took Miss Johansson’s hand in order to lead her to the carriage. She had to take quick steps in order to keep pace with him.
“Goodness, David,” she said. “Must you be so rough?”
He leaned in with his reply so that no one could hear what he said to her.
“Excellent,” Mr. Jennings said, sharing a quick look with Mary, who was not schooling her concerned expression as well as a hostess should. “Shall we be off, then?”
A murmur of agreement moved through the group as they stepped into their assigned carriages.
Dina’s carriage had only just begun to move when Mr. Dewberry launched into a rousing retelling of the time he was relegated to play Ophelia in a school production of Hamlet.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The return trip required forced laughter on Dina’s part as she tried to appear as though all was well. The other three in her carriage seemed genuine in their interest—Mr. Littlefield was even more animated than he’d been on the first journey. It all felt like a ruse to Dina and yet, again, there was nothing she could hold up to say, “See, this confirms that Miss Johansson is being untrue to you, David.” The falseness left her feeling sick by the time the carriage came to a stop in front of the house. She excused herself quickly with the need to get back to the girls. No one pointed out that she still had the rest of the day off, but then the governess’s personal time was far down the list of concerns right now.
She joined the girls in time for their daily tea, which consisted of lemonade and buttered bread, and dismissed the maid who took her place on Mondays. She tried to forget the tension but found it difficult. Her thoughts kept returning to bright Miss Johansson and tight David and the stupid rock that was supposedly deserving of Mr. Littlefield’s intent searching.
When Mary and Mr. Jennings arrived for children’s hour, Dina excused herself quickly and hid in her room rather than going belowstairs as she usually did. The servants who attended the outing would surely have whispered about what had happened, and as guest of the outing she would be plied to confirm the details. Dina managed the balance between being both a cousin and a servant well enough and did not doubt her ability to put off any questions the staff asked her; her avoidance was primarily due to her fear that should she find a willing audience to whom she might allow all her thoughts to tumble out. Mary was usually her confidante for things that bothered her, much as she was for Mary, but she was caught in an awkward balance in this.
The grandfather clock at the bottom of the stairs chimed the hour sooner than Dina liked, but at least it was only the girls who awaited her company, and they were not expected to interact with the party tonight.
Mary was already gone from the nursery when Dina arrived, and Mr. Jennings was in a hurry to return to their guests. Once it was only her and the girls, she took a deep breath and let it down, trying to send some of the anxiety of the day out with the breath.
Several minutes later, there was a tapping at the door. She turned away from setting out the girls’ clothes for tomorrow at the same time Mrs. Macarthur poked her head into the room. David’s mother looked about, and then smiled when her gaze landed on Dina. Their earlier accord had disappeared, and the more familiar tension settled in as David’s mother came into the room, closing the door behind her.
“I hope I am not interrupting anything.” Mrs. Macarthur was dressed in an emerald-green dinner gown that made her eyes look bluer than usual. Emerald earrings sparkled at her ears, throat, and wrist, completing the picture of an elegant lady she had always exhibited. She looked around the room, taking in the drapery, small furniture, table and shelves filled with toys and books currently put up for the day save for the three stories the girls had chosen as their bedtime tales. To let only one girl choose each night inevitably led to bickering, so Dina allowed them to each choose their own. Olivia and Rebecca never made it through all three, but Elizabeth would remain attentive throughout the third, determined to delay bedtime as long as possible.
“I shall be putting the girls to bed shortly,” she said, waving toward the dressing screen pulled across the far side of the room where the girls were changing into their nightdresses. The screen was more to teach them to be modest rather to afford them privacy, since it was usually only Dina who was in attendance for this change from day to night.
“This is a lovely nursery,” Mrs. Macarthur said, coming farther into the room. “Are you responsible for the situation of it?”
“All was in place when I came,” Dina said in answer to the odd question—did David’s mother really care so much on the set up of the nursery? “Can I help you with something, Mrs. Macarthur?”
“Mary gave me permission to tour the rest of the house before dinner was announced—the official tour for the guests was done before my arrival, apparently. I’ve never been here before, as it is so very far north.”
“Yes,” Dina confirmed, then went back to arranging the stockings the girls would wear the next day. If there was a greater purpose than exploring Mary’s home, Mrs. Macarthur would come to it on her own timing. Dina focused on keeping her breathing even and her countenance neutral.
“It seems that you function here as much as a nurse as a governess.”
“The girls are close enough in age to benefit from both aspects.”
“They seem very well behaved, and Mary can’t say enough about your work here.”
Dina heard the slight emphasis on the word “work,” surely meant to remind her of her place. The genteel class did not “work.” David’s class. She wondered for a moment how it was that this woman had fallen in love with the Scotsman Barney Macarthur all those years ago. What had her family thought of him? Where had they married? Dina knew the relationship had grown cool by the time David was old enough to notice, and his mother had wanted to return to England. Yet Mrs. Macarthur had stayed in Scotland all those years, and she’d been heartbroken when David’s father died. Dina watched from the corner of her eye as Mrs. Macarthur made a slow circle around the room, focusing on one aspect and then another. How much of her objection to Dina was because of some pain she herself had felt being pulled between the world she knew and the world she’d married into?
The girls came out from behind the screen, eyeing Mrs. Macarthur warily. Dina could not remember the last time someone they did not know had come into this place, and she rather liked that they seemed a bit territorial about the intrusion. Dina introduced them, stood back while Mrs. Macarthur fussed over their frilly nightdresses and complimented their performances from other evenings. When she’d finished, Dina suggested the girls put their dolls to bed before story time. It was part of their nightly routine, and the girls were eager to tuck in their babies the same way Dina would tuck them in after the books were read and hair was brushed.
“They really are lovely,” Mrs. Macarthur said, looking at them with soft longing. She turned her eyes to Dina. “You love them a great deal, don’t you?”
“Very much.” Dina began refolding the clothes, drawing out her task while waiting for Mrs. Macarthur to leave. She’d certainly had all the observation she needed of this room. Unless that wasn’t her reason for having come.
“You do not miss Scotland?”
“I miss it every day,” Dina said, smoothing out the skirt of Rebecca’s frock. “But fate has not seen fit to keep me there. I’ve no family now that my grandfather has passed, at least, not the type
of family I could settle with.” There were some distant cousins and the son of Grandfather’s brother, but though she was seen as less than genteel in England, she was a poor fit for the life she would have if she were determined to stay in Scotland. She would have to marry, for one thing, and make do with whatever situation that put her in—tending a garden, home farm, family, and hearth without the training for that kind of life. “I’ve instead brought Scotland with me as much as possible.”
She looked at David’s mother as she said this and saw the expected shadow, confirming that her opinions of the land Dina loved had not changed in the years since she’d gently reminded Dina of the differences between her situation and David’s.
“The Scottish folk songs the children have performed have been lovely.”
“They have beautiful voices.”
Mrs. Macarthur looked at a bookshelf as though intent on the titles displayed. “I want to thank you, Dina, for all you’ve done for David.”
Dina’s hands slowed as she placed Olivia’s blue walking boots on the floor beneath the bench where she’d laid out the clothing. Mrs. Macarthur turned toward her, a soft smile on her lips and gloved hands clasped in front of her.
“I know that leaving London was a difficult choice,” she continued. “I hope that seeing the man David has become helps you to better understand the power of your sacrifice.” She turned and began walking toward the windows that looked over the yard. “That night when we spoke was not easy for me. I hope you know that. I want David’s happiness above all things and have always felt kindly toward you and the friends you and Mary have been to him.” She sighed. “Only I could not ignore what I knew in my heart was best for him.” She paused at the window, took a deep breath, and then let it out. “You are not a mother, but you love these girls in much the same way, and so I am certain that you can understand my position.” She turned, facing Dina again. “David is my only son, and his happiness is my only occupation.”
Dina was touched despite the stinging reminder that David had been able to attain his potential because Dina stepped aside. Dina had entertained the idea that maybe things could be different between her and David now, but could they? Was an unfaithful English bride with connection still a better choice than a faithful Scottish one?
“I worried in the beginning that you would tell him of our conversation. It would have been something he was not in a position to understand, something that may have affected our relationship. That is a reflection of your fine character, Dina, and I want you to know how much I appreciate that.”
It was a bitter acknowledgement. Dina had not meant to protect Mrs. Macarthur by withholding the information from David, rather she’d wanted to protect him from all of it: his mother’s concern, Dina’s distraction from the ambition that was not only his mother’s but his too, her own shame at not having put an end to their growing accord before her heart was so engaged. She’d done everything back then to spare him pain.
Because I loved him, she said in her mind, using that word for the first time. Before now she’d acknowledged the attraction, draw, delight, friendship, and physical awareness, but she’d never given those feelings the title she could not ignore now. She had loved him so much. Enough to step aside so that he could become the man he now was. Enough to give up her heart and her fantasy of happiness in the process. She swallowed the lump in her throat, then realized that the love she could admit to now had not been left behind as they had taken separate paths all those years ago. She still loved him. Her heart still belonged wholly and completely to him. She still wanted his happiness above anything else in the world.
“Mrs. Macarthur,” she said, making the unexpected decision as the realization of her feelings for David continued to settle upon her shoulders. She moved toward the older woman and ignored the bickering that was rising from the corner of the room where the dolls and cradles were kept as the girls argued over whose doll got which blanket for the night. “May I confide something in you that is directly tied to that happiness you claim to want for David above all things?”
“Certainly.”
She took a breath and then told Mrs. Macarthur what she’d seen from the nursery window two days before and her suspicions about David’s fiancée and his friend having been apart from the group at the same time at the abbey today. “I understand what you see in Miss Johansson,” Dina said, aware that her voice had picked up in both pace and volume. “She is poised and elegant and, as I understand it, from a good and well-connected family. She appears to be exactly the type of woman who would do David all the credit that is his due, but there is something false in her, Mrs. Macarthur. I fear that falseness is hiding something that would hurt David to know now but could destroy him if her behavior remains unchecked and they are to marry.”
Mrs. Macarthur’s expression had become tight throughout Dina’s retelling. “With whom have you shared this information?”
“No one,” Dina said, shaking her head. “I have no proof, but there is also no denying what I saw or any reasonable explanation for either of these situations.”
“Unless Miss Johansson and Mr. Littlefield told the truth about their whereabouts today,” Mrs. Macarthur said, turning back to the window. “And do you really feel capable of identifying people at the tree line from all the way up here? It is quite a distance.”
Dina stiffened.
Mrs. Macarthur turned back, her face tight. “Lady Clairmont and I have known each other for many years and could not be happier about the connection between our children. Miss Johansson has been raised with formalities that some people take for granted, such as not being left without an escort when out of doors. I find no reason to suspect her explanation of having found a wrong path when attempting to find her way back to where you and David had left her, because she has always had someone to lead her until now. Mr. Littlefield is very much like my brother who, I explained, collected rocks from everywhere he visited for years.” She cocked her head to the side and gave Dina a compassionate smile that lacked warmth. “I appreciate that you care about David enough to be concerned over what you think you might have seen, Dina, but I hope you also care enough to examine your own feelings enough to question your intentions.”
“I know what I saw,” Dina said tightly, embarrassment rising in her chest as she realized it had been a mistake to confide in her. “I had been in Miss Johansson’s company not fifteen minutes earlier on Saturday; there is not another woman here who has such dark hair or was wearing a pink dress that afternoon.”
Mrs. Macarthur raised her eyebrows, then lowered them and nodded. “I shall look into it.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that I shall look into it,” Mrs. Macarthur said. Both her tone and her look were sharp. “And I will ask that you allow me to handle this. An accusation from a governess will have no weight with anyone. For David’s sake, tell no one else of this suspicion and let me handle the situation.” They held one another’s eyes a moment, and then Mrs. Macarthur smiled a tight smile. “Well, I have taken enough of your time and do not want the party to hold dinner on my account. Good night to you, Dina. Thank you for your time.”
CHAPTER NINE
Each time Dina thought over the conversation with Mrs. Macarthur, she flushed with both embarrassment and frustration. She did not know how Mrs. Macarthur was going to “look into it” and worried on one hand she would do nothing. On the other hand, she was afraid Mrs. Macarthur would somehow alert the offending parties, thereby allowing them to further cover up their actions. What if Mrs. Macarthur told Mary that Dina was trying to come between David and Miss Johansson? What if she told David? Would they believe her? Dina wanted to think they wouldn’t but could not be certain. This was David’s mother, the woman whose course he had followed to perfection thus far. If her course continued to include Miss Johansson, Dina had little hope that anything but that course would be kept.
Should I go to David now?
The idea made her dizzy
. Mrs. Macarthur’s doubt of her story was hard enough. What if David didn’t believe her either? What if he also thought Dina was trying to discredit Miss Johansson for her own purposes?
Despite it being a fine day, Dina kept the girls indoors so as not to inadvertently cross paths with one of the many people in the party whom she wished to avoid. She did not want to scrutinize expressions or tones of voice, catch coy glances between lovers, or wonder what thoughts were being hidden behind the high society manners. Instead, Dina played floor games with the girls, read books, reviewed letters, and reorganized the toys until she thought she would lose her mind. On an ordinary day she could forget her own worries by focusing on her charges. Today, she could not stop the volley of thoughts and fears and regrets from spinning through her attempts to be attentive. The girls must have sensed her distraction because they were unusually sensitive and petulant. The day stretched out long and dull until Dina finally ordered all three of them to naps, instead of only Olivia, and put them in separate rooms to keep them from distracting one another. Rebecca took Dina’s bedchamber to the east of the nursery, Elizabeth the nursery, and Olivia her railed bed in the room the girls slept in on the west side of the nursery. It took half an hour of going back and forth before all three were finally settled. Only then was Dina able to fall into the chair she’d moved into the hallway and drop her face into her hands. Oh David, she thought as tears came to her eyes. Every other feeling moved aside to reveal the deep sadness she felt for him. He deserved so much better than what Miss Johansson was offering.
What would you have me do, David? she pled in her mind. The boy she’d played with and the young man she’d loved would want to know the ugly truth of what Dina suspected, but David wasn’t either of those persons anymore. He was stoic and careful, and maybe he’d come to accept infidelity as a matter of course. It broke her heart to think that he could be that changed, and her tears came more freely at the idea that her sacrifice all those years ago might have only been—
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