Chapter 1

Chapter One

" I t is an honor to be chosen."

"But I know nothing about him, Father!" Marigold wailed.

"You do not need to," George Venton, the Earl of Waterburry, retorted.

Diana entered the drawing room warily. The fact that her mother and father both were present did not bode well, and the fact that Marigold was so emotional only seemed to signify something worse.

Yet, when she stepped into the room, it became clear that it was not just Marigold who was in a panic. All her sisters seemed to know something that she was not aware of because they were fluttering about the room, shock evident on their faces. Poor Arabella looked on the verge of tears.

And that said nothing of Marigold, who looked on the verge of hysterics .

"What has happened here?" Diana kept her voice firm and calm, but its volume still drew the attention of everyone else in the room.

"Ah, perhaps you can talk some sense into your sister," their father said.

Diana remained still and silent. Wary, once more. That was perhaps the nearest thing to a compliment her father had ever given her, but the timing of it seemed suspicious.

"Oh! Diana! They wish to marry me off to some man I've never met!" Marigold practically flung herself into Diana's arms, and Diana held her closely almost by reflex, though her gaze was still on their father.

"Marigold has received a marriage proposal?"

She was even more confused by that. At the last several balls they attended; Marigold did seem to have several interested suitors. But none seemed infatuated enough to make her an offer. At least not yet.

"Isn't it so romantic?" Valery spoke up.

Diana glanced at her with a furrowed brow. It did not seem that anyone else in the house felt the same, least of all Marigold, who simply clutched at Diana's dress all the tighter.

"He spotted her out of nowhere and knew he had to have her."

Diana loved Valery dearly, but the girl was clearly deluded if she thought this situation was anything but shocking.

Their father, however, ignored her as he normally did.

"Yes, the Duke of Cardan has made her an offer, and he is on his way just now to collect her."

The Earl rarely expressed pride in any of his daughters, but this was certainly not the way any of them wished to experience it. Marigold fairly trembled in Diana's arms.

"Collect her? What is she, then? A package for him to claim? It is a wonder that he has chosen to come all this way himself rather than request her by post."

The idea that this man, who they did not know, intended to simply pick up her sister without any of the usual formalities that should accompany an offer of marriage was distasteful.

It was clear the Earl did not share Diana's opinion, as he scowled in her direction and shook his head.

"We are lucky that a duke is interested in one of your sisters. And that he has selected Marigold is an honor to her."

It certainly didn't appear that Marigold thought there was any ‘honor' to it. She was still staring around the room, wide-eyed and terrified. And then she strode quickly to the piano and picked up a paper that had been left there.

"What about this, Father?"

"What about it?" the Earl asked as she waved the paper about like a banner. And then she began to read.

" Many men of the ton are known for their firmness in business, for their steadfast nature and for their ability to achieve their aims in all areas of their lives. However, none are a match for the Duke of Cardan. A man that even the strongest men of business do not wish to come up against in any manner, and who, despite his handsome features, no woman of the ton seems anxious to catch.

The Duke is found to be not simply firm but cold. Not simply steadfast but fearsome. Not simply successful but unfailing. In light of this, is it any wonder that he has yet to marry or even to be seen courting a young woman of the ton? None wish to marry off their daughters to such a man ."

Diana felt her blood run cold. This was the man that their father wished to marry her sister off to?

"Scandal sheets are nothing but women's gossip. They mean nothing at all," the Earl insisted.

"I have heard rumors as well. Rumors of his intense anger and his mistreatment of his staff," Elizabeth Venton, the Countess of Waterburry spoke up, for the first time sounding hesitant about the arrangement.

"Gossip," he insisted again.

But the content of the scandal sheet and the Countess's words, which seemed to corroborate all of it, only served to inflame the situation more.

"I cannot marry him. Father, do you see why I cannot?" Marigold wailed in earnest now, flinging herself back into Diana's arms while their younger sisters tried to soothe her.

"He will be here any minute, and it will not do for him to walk in on my daughters flailing about like so many chickens."

But there was something about the Earl's expression now. Something that said… perhaps the negative news about the Duke of Cardan was more than rumors and women's gossip.

"Shush now," the Countess said as a knock sounded at the door, but it only quelled her daughters' outbursts, not the fear in their eyes.

"My Lord, My Lady, may I present His Grace, the Duke of Cardan."

Mr. Townsend was as formal as ever, announcing the man who singlehandedly upended their morning and most assuredly their lives, though Diana tried her best to reserve judgment until she had a chance to meet him.

But the look on his face as he walked through the door only seemed to prove everything that had been said about him. That stern look said that he was not someone who laughed often. And it seemed to indicate that he was more likely to scowl than crack a smile.

He was definitely not what Diana would want for any of her sisters, especially Marigold. Arabella would also be a bad match, if not worse, with her delicate sensibilities.

"Your Grace." The Earl bowed, and the rest of the family haltingly followed suit, though the look on his face said he didn't care in the slightest.

"Which of these is your daughter?" the Duke asked abruptly, glancing around at the four young women standing before him.

"All of them, Your Grace. But Marigold is there, in the middle."

Each of the other girls only clung to Diana even harder in response, and the Duke stared at them for a long moment before speaking again.

"I am eight-and-twenty, and it is high time that I take a wife. Lady Marigold was suggested as a prodigious match."

"We are honored that you have chosen Marigold to be your wife."

"The wedding shall take place as soon as I get the special license, and she will then return with me to my home."

The tone of his voice was… detached. As if he were simply discussing the weather. Or a business matter. Not marriage. Not something that would affect the rest of his life.

"Should you not spend time together before you determine that you shall wed?" Diana spoke up.

His eyes narrowed in confusion as he looked at her. It was the first true emotion she had seen on his face, and he took a long moment before he answered her question.

"What purpose would that serve?"

"Getting to know your future wife? The woman you shall spend the rest of your days with? You see no value in that?"

"Diana, hold your tongue," the Earl practically hissed, but Diana was not prone to staying silent on things that mattered.

"My uncle and I have looked into all of the single ladies of the ton. Lady Marigold possesses the qualities necessary for an advantageous match."

"And just what, pray tell, would those qualities be?" Diana asked, despite her father and mother frowning at her in earnest.

The Duke did not appear pleased to be questioned but deigned to answer her anyway.

"She is of marriageable age, comes from a good family whose history can be traced back several generations, and offers an adequate dowry."

"All things that apply to a great many young women of the ton, myself included. Why not marry any one of those other women?"

"The connection between my family and yours will be a benefit to me as well."

"Then why not marry me instead?"

"I beg your pardon, Lady…"

"Diana. My name is Diana. And if you are seeking only a connection with our family, why not marry me instead of my sister?"

This was not at all what Matthew had expected when he wrote to the Earl to seek the hand of one of his daughters. Lady Marigold had seemed the ideal option. However, he recalled nothing of Lady Diana in his and his uncle's discussions of potential matches. Surely they would have considered her as well, as she seemed to be the eldest sister and did not seem so old as to be ineligible for marriage.

"Why would I consider marriage to another when I have already settled on Lady Marigold?" he asked her, one eyebrow raised.

"You want a wife. You do not expect to fall in love or to find someone to truly enjoy your life with. You seek only to marry for the sake of marriage. And if that is the case, then one wife is as good as another, certainly."

What she said was true. To marry Lady Marigold or Lady Diana mattered little to him. The two were sisters, which meant that everything desirable in the match with the first was also true for the second. True, Lady Diana was older, and he was not entirely sure by how much, but that was of no consequence.

It was clear, just from looking at Lady Marigold, that she was not keen on the idea of marrying him. Even now she was clutching at her sisters and staring at him with a mix of horror and curiosity that he did not like.

Bringing her to his home, away from her sisters, would surely bring him only frustration and discomfort.

And then there was Lady Diana, who was standing before him tall and proud, her shoulders squared as she stared at him. She did not look prone to histrionics as his intended did.

"Marigold is young. Too young to be wed just yet. And certainly too young to be wed to the likes of you," Lady Diana continued.

She was unlike any woman that he had met before. No one spoke to him this way, and despite himself, he was intrigued. The fact that she was unafraid of him and that she was protecting her sister… was admirable. And the fact that she wished to marry him while the other girl clearly did not …

He glanced again at Lady Marigold and frowned.

She did seem quite young, though he knew she was almost twenty. The frantic, fearful look in her eyes, the way she clung to her sisters… She would marry him. Of that, he had no doubt, because her parents would force her down the aisle if necessary. But her eldest sister…

His gaze turned again to Lady Diana, who was standing before him with a firm expression, her posture strong and sure. She was older, that was true. But she was still a lovely woman. Still of marriageable age. And far more willing to marry him. And wouldn't a willing wife be worth the potential strife of dealing with her impertinent streak?

"I am seeking a wife for the sole purpose of convenience," he warned. "For the practicality of it. My business has flourished such that a wife is of use to me. However, I am far too busy to engage in the intricacies of married life. My wife shall be in charge of my household, and I shall not be bothered with that or with any romantic notions you may hold."

The lady practically scoffed at him, tossing her head back and pulling herself up even straighter.

"I have no romantic notions to entertain and no illusions of such from you."

"Diana!"

Her mother sounded positively scandalized at the way she spoke to him, but he found himself unoffended by either her speech or her look. Rather, this young woman, who believed she was his equal, intrigued him even more.

"Very well, Lady Diana. I shall accept your proposal. We shall be wed as soon as I get the special license."

"We have an accord," she replied cooly, stepping forward and holding out her hand.

He raised an eyebrow in surprise at the businesslike gesture coming from a young lady, but stepped forward nonetheless, shaking her hand as he would during any other business meeting.

While this one likely should have been carried out with her father and not directly with her, he was certain that there would be no objection to their betrothal.

A glance in the direction of her father confirmed this, as he acknowledged the agreement with a sharp nod.

"You had best be prepared, Lady Diana. I intend to wed quickly and to be done with this nonsense immediately thereafter."

"I can be ready to leave in a quarter hour if that would suit you best, Your Grace."

Her words were sharp, her tone… almost mocking, and it was clear her family was stunned by it. However, Matthew merely inclined his head, studying her more carefully.

"That will not be necessary, My Lady. The formalities of hosting an unmarried woman in my home, even my betrothed, are of no interest to me. I shall return with the license and we shall wed. Then you may accompany me."

"As you wish, Your Grace," Lady Diana replied, bobbing a slight curtsey that he was even more certain was meant as a mocking gesture.

Still, he bowed his head to her and then to each of the others, her mother being the only one to execute a deferential curtsey, and her father a bow as he approached.

"Your Grace, you honor us by choosing our daughter for a wife," the Earl said as he saw Matthew out.

"Your daughter is headstrong. But I believe she will do well in my household," Matthew replied. "With any luck, I shall be back before the week is out with the license, and we shall be wed and return to my home soon thereafter."

"Of course, Your Grace. I shall take care of all of the arrangements so that we are prepared upon your return."

"And you will see to it that Lady Diana is fully prepared as well." It was not a question, or a request, though Lord Waterburry responded as though it was.

"I will, Your Grace."

"Good. I will take my leave."

With that, Matthew stepped out of the house, but not before he caught the words from the drawing room.

"Oh, Diana, what have you done?"