Chapter 35

CHAPTER 35

M arina fled into her home and sought out Mathilde immediately. While the housekeeper made arrangements for her, Marina ran up to her room to pack a small bag with the necessities. The second half of her clothes and personal items had not yet been shipped from her father's home, so there was no need to bring clothing. She wanted only the books she was reading and a few other items. Her father's steward would come in the morning for the remainder of her belongings.

As she frantically looked through her drawers and tables, Marina's eyes still wept. Her heart had never been so heavy. How could Phillip drag her into this marriage? He had put to rest each of her doubts and worked to make her comfortable, happy even. She knew now that it had all been a rouse. He was no better than the scandal sheets made him out to be. Worse, even. Her eyes were swollen and bleary, and suddenly she felt a pain at her knee and heard a thump.

The Duchess wiped her eyes and bent down. She had accidentally run into a loose board on the paneling near her bed, and the wall had shifted just enough for a small, leatherbound journal to slip out from its hiding place. Marina reached down and touched the volume. She was not one for theft or common prying, but something whispered to her subconscious that this book was important, as if it had come out of hiding just for her purposes. She threw it in her bag then came downstairs and went out to her carriage. Phillip came running out just in time for her to watch him disappear from view.

When Marina arrived home, she sent her father's steward to go and fetch him. The moment he saw his daughter with her pale face and red eyes, he grew ruddy in his cheeks from anger. There had not been time to warn him of her return, and he had not gotten any ill news from anyone in their family. Her distress could have only one source.

"What has he done, Marina? I will tear this city apart to?—"

"Papa, please." She shook her head, reaching out to him for a hug. He met her embrace, and Marina released her anguish as sobs within his familiar, comforting presence. When she could cry no more, he took her to the drawing room and sent for Olivia, who joined them shortly.

"Tell us what has happened," the Earl insisted.

"Oh, Papa. It's dreadful. The Duke is not at all what I suspected."

Olivia put a comforting hand on her sister's shoulder. "You do not need to burden yourself by sharing the details of what has happened, Marina. We can see in your face how hurt you are. Please, take some time to collect yourself."

Marina leaned against her sister, nodding, and wondered when young Olivia had grown into such a mature young woman. How long had she been apart from her family? It had seemed worth the separation, once, not long ago, when Marina had hoped that she and Phillip could build a happy life together. Perhaps even start a family of their own. But now that she had learned what she had, Marina thought this was a pipe dream. A faraway, unreachable pipe dream.

"Olivia is right," the Earl said quietly. "You do not need to tell us anything. We will support you, Marina. No matter what has happened between you and the Duke, this is your home, and we are your family. Perhaps you should retire to your room to freshen up and get some rest, my love. I will have dinner brought up to you tonight, and if you are feeling well enough, you may have breakfast in the morning and fill us in on only what you feel necessary."

Marina nodded, allowing Olivia to help her up and walk with her to her room. When they arrived, she saw that it was untouched. It remained exactly as it had when she left it, and she flung her arms around her sister in gratitude.

"It feels so good to be back," she breathed, her relief palpable. "It has been so difficult to be away from you all."

Olivia stroked her sister's hair and patted her back. "Everything will be all right now, Marina. You're here, now." Marina pulled away, and Olivia held her out by the shoulders, so she could take a good look at her. "You've grown thinner and paler," she remarked.

Marina looked away, ashamed. "I have been working hard to be a good wife. A better duchess. But in the end, it was not enough. I was not enough to change his ways."

"Do not utter such lies," the younger Linfield woman whispered. "Whatever he has done, it cannot be your fault."

Once Marina's sister was able to soothe her enough to retire, she readied herself for bed and had their housekeeper keep a lamp on by her bedside after dinner. She spent nearly all night glued to the book she had found in Phillip's home. It was a journal written by the former duchess, and in it, Marina felt that she found answers to her burning questions not only about her husband but herself. His mother, she felt, was much the same as she was: confused and alone.