Chapter 4

Chapter Four

" D on't be daft, you silly girl. The bride cannot wear red for her wedding."

"Whyever not? It would look lovely with her complexion," came the response.

Diana braced herself for whatever she would find on the other side of the drawing room door. But even still, she was not fully prepared for the flurry of movement. The fabrics being tossed about. Her sisters flitting from one side of the room to the other, examining one fabric here and another fabric there. First holding up one and then another, all while their mother shook her head in frustration.

"What…" Diana stared at the chaos in surprise and confusion. "What are you about?"

She narrowed her eyes at her mother, who was currently poring over a spool of fabric that was draped over her father's chair.

"Perhaps this instead," the Countess said, holding the fabric out to an older woman Diana had never seen before.

"It is a lovely color and one that will be simply beautiful for a wedding dress," the woman agreed.

"But is there enough of it to make a dress fit for a duchess?" the younger woman beside her asked, running her fingers over the material. "'Tis only a few yards left."

The older woman tsked under her breath and shook her head. "That is true. Perhaps we could pair it with this one."

"I beg your pardon," Diana called, more loudly this time.

Everyone turned toward her. Silence fell over them for a moment, and then everyone was talking at once.

"Oh, Diana! Aren't they all so lovely?"

"Which is your favorite?"

"I love this color, and it shall be perfect for a wedding dress."

"Look here, Diana."

"No, this one."

Diana stared back and forth between her sisters. They hadn't been in such a frenzy since… well, she didn't know when, but her mother pursed her lips, shook her head, and directed her attention to the fabric in her hands.

"This fabric, Diana, is the one we were discussing. What say you?"

"It is lovely," Diana agreed.

"Excellent, it's settled then," her mother declared.

"However," Diana interjected as her mother turned toward the modiste.

Everyone turned back to her again.

"I do not believe it will suffice for my wedding. It is not the color I should like." She strolled about the room, ignoring the look her mother cast in her direction and instead examining fabrics herself. "I like this one. What say you to that?"

Her sisters immediately fawned over her choice, rushing closer to see it. But she could tell not everyone was pleased.

"That? Why, it's far too dark for a wedding gown."

"It's a lovely color. And I like the feel of the material. It's very soft."

"Soft. What does that matter?" her mother scoffed.

Diana frowned. "I would wish to be comfortable on my wedding day."

"Comfort is of no significance," her mother retorted.

But Diana stood firm. "I like this one. And I would like this to be used in the making of my gown," she stated firmly to the modiste.

The woman looked startled, and more than a little uncomfortable, glancing between Diana and her mother, but she finally gave a short nod and turned toward her assistant. "You heard her, girl. Pack away the other material, we shall need to get the measurements for the design."

The girl began quickly bundling away fabrics and setting them to the side to be loaded back into their carriage. But as she gathered the last one, it suddenly unspooled in her arms and pooled around her feet. Her loud cry alerted all of them just before she stumbled over the ripples of fabric.

"Ah! Be careful. That fabric is very delicate!" the modiste exclaimed.

Diana frowned, rushing forward to help the poor girl up. "Are you quite all right?"

"Yes, thank you," the girl replied, looking more embarrassed than anything. She kept her head down, rolled the spool back together, and quickly put it with the rest before turning toward Diana again. "We shall need a great deal of measurements," she stated.

Diana gave a nod, encouraging her to continue.

"Now, we'll start with the basic measurements, of course," the modiste began. "And while that is done, we can discuss the design that you desire. We have plenty of fabric to make something truly spectacular."

The modiste seemed quite confident, even though Diana knew her mother must have given the woman the timeline for the wedding.

"She'll need a long train, of course," the Countess announced.

"And a lace veil!" Arabella piped up.

"And perhaps a shawl around her arms," Valery added. "They're so lovely and romantic."

Once again, they were talking over each other, and the modiste looked a little overwhelmed. And Diana…

"Please." But there was no acknowledgment of her spoken word. "I beg your pardon," she tried again, but still there was no response. "Silence!" she cried out. Everyone turned to her, even more stunned this time. "I shall decide on the style of my gown," she announced, and once again her mother looked unhappy, to say the least. "I should like a train. However, it shall not be too long. I will need to be able to walk down the aisle in it, after all."

Her mother opened her mouth to speak, but Diana continued, pretending she hadn't noticed.

"A full skirt would be lovely to go along with it. And I shall need a veil. Which type of lace would be the best option for that?" she asked, deferring to the better judgment of the modiste, who, again, looked uncomfortable.

"Well, a slightly finer lace is traditional. And it is more comfortable, My Lady. You shall be able to see through it. However, there are slightly different designs if you would like." The modiste glanced at her assistant. "Where are those lace samples?" she asked abruptly.

The girl quickly rushed about, looking for… Well, Diana knew not what until the girl placed a small book before her with scraps of lace in it.

"Here you are, My Lady. There are several here that would be lovely for a wedding. This is one of my favorites." The assistant flipped to a sample toward the middle of the book.

"She did not ask for your choice," the modiste hissed.

"Well, she could use a little advice that isn't being forced upon her," the assistant retorted, which only served to make the modiste more frantic and the Countess furious.

"Why! I am her mother. I am the one she should be turning to for advice in this situation. She does not need the likes of you telling her what to choose, when she will not even take advice from her own mother."

"Begging your pardon, My Lady. I meant no disrespect," the girl hurried to say, bowing her head.

Diana struggled to hide her smile. "I do thank you for your advice. And it is a great help to me," she offered, looking over the samples.

By the time they had finally decided on the fabrics and the design of the dress, it was getting late. The modiste and her assistant left, and the rest settled in for tea. "What shall you do for the ball?" Arabella asked.

"And the wedding breakfast," Valery added.

"We shall have a large ball, of course," the Countess announced. "The wedding of a duke shall be a large affair, and we shall ensure that the ball reflects that. An orchestra?—"

"Mother, I do believe she was asking what my thoughts were," Diana pointed out, trying to be as polite as possible.

"Yes, but you have never had to plan such an event. I shall take care of this."

"No," Diana insisted.

All of them seemed surprised by her statement. Marigold's eyes widening in surprise as she glanced between their mother and Diana. Arabella's mouth actually dropped open in her shock, though she quickly covered it by selecting a new pastry to eat instead.

Their mother, however, looked first shocked and then angry, her eyes widening and then narrowing, even as her lips pressed together tightly.

"I beg your pardon?" the Countess blurted out.

Diana held her head up. "No, Mother. I shall plan the ball and the wedding breakfast myself. I have given it some thought." Though not a great deal if she were being honest. This was all still quite new to her. "I would like to have a large ball and invite all of our friends and family as well as many of the duchy's residents. After all, their Duke shall be wed, and they should all be invited to attend."

"Yes, of course." The Countess agreed on this point, at least. "And we shall ensure that the most important of those shall also be invited to the wedding breakfast."

"I believe I should like to have my closest family and friends for the wedding breakfast," Diana replied instead.

Her mother stared at her in shock. "There is a certain way that things are done?—"

"We are not required to adhere to convention," Diana replied.

This time, her mother gasped. "Diana?—"

"I shall carry out my wedding in my own way," Diana insisted. "You are allowed to share your opinions. However, it is my wedding, and I shall have the final say."

With that, she considered the matter settled, and apparently, the finality of her tone startled her mother so much that she simply stared at her, wide-eyed, her mouth slightly agape. A fact that also startled her sisters, who were staring at her with something akin to awe.

Her wedding. A duchess. Could Diana ever have imagined such things? Even when she was younger than Arabella, and her own romantic notions were in full force, she had never dreamed that a duke would someday be interested in her.

But he's not interested in you, a voice in her head reminded her. He's looking for a bride, and anyone will do.

With a sigh, she tried to tune into what her mother was now saying, clearly having recovered from her shock. Something about decorating the ballroom and who she would have stand beside her at the ceremony.

"Why, my sisters, of course," Diana replied, surprised that was even a question.

"Perhaps instead we shall choose from amongst the ladies of the ton. This is an excellent opportunity to build stronger connections with several ladies and families."

"I would choose my sisters over any other," Diana insisted.

Her mother frowned and shook her head. "Your sisters will understand that you are to be a duchess. As such, you will need to forge the right connections with the right families. Perhaps Lady Angleton. And Lady Hearst?—"

"I have said, Mother, that I shall have my sisters stand beside me. I shall not have ladies of the ton that I know little of when I have sisters who are more dear to me than anything else," she replied firmly.

"Diana, you do not understand the way the world works," her mother began, exasperated, "Your wedding is the perfect opportunity?—"

"It is not an opportunity to build connections or anything else that you have stated. It shall, instead, be an opportunity for me to share with my family and those I care about. I care nothing for Lady Angleton and Lady Hearst." Or at least, Diana was quite certain she cared nothing for them, as she did not even know who they were.

"You must think rationally about this."

"I am thinking quite rationally. And I have determined that I shall carry out everything in the way that I see fit."

"And the wedding breakfast?" her mother asked, displeasure already evident on her face. "What shall you have for that?"

It was clear she did not truly want to know, but Diana held her tongue for a moment at least so she could gather her thoughts and respond as politely as possible, which was when her father entered the room.

"Ah, are the wedding plans coming along well?"

"It has been… informative, to say the least," the Countess replied stiffly. "We have been discussing the wedding breakfast."

"Wonderful. We shall of course have veal and sausage," the Earl announced.

Diana wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "No, Father. I do not care for either."

"What?" He turned to her in surprise, as if he couldn't believe she was even speaking.

"I do not care for veal and sausage. Instead, we shall have roast fowl and lamb."

"For the wedding breakfast of a duke and duchess?" He seemed startled, and she inclined her head.

"Indeed."

"And what about dessert? We shall have a lovely cake, of course. It shall be large, elaborate and?—"

"No, it needs fresh flowers!" Valery announced.

"Berries!" Marigold chimed in.

Once again, Diana found herself overwhelmed. It was bad enough when she was arguing against her mother. But arguing against everyone at once…

"Well—" she began, but it was impossible to make herself heard while everyone began to speak at once.

"Oh! And pastries!" Marigold piped up again, and Diana could not help but smile. "Sugar biscuits, of course."

"Sugar biscuits are for tea," the Countess stated disapprovingly, but Diana was firm on this one as well.

"We all like them, and it shall be my last occasion to have them before I shall leave this house forever."

That seemed to sober everyone. Even the Countess looked slightly uncertain at the announcement. But then, with a slight nod, she noted down sugar biscuits on the wedding breakfast menu.

"Now, as to the wedding cake, I should prefer to have flowers on the cake rather than anything too large and elaborate. I enjoy fresh flowers more than anything and I believe they will be beautiful for our decorations."

"Flowers are lovely for setting on tables," her mother agreed, "but they are not for decorating a wedding cake."

"I enjoy flowers, Mother, and I should like to have them on my wedding cake. There are lovely ones that I am sure will look more than sufficient for what I would like of my wedding."

"Diana, you have never planned a wedding before and as such you have no idea just how things are done-"

"I have no need to know how things are done," she replied. "I know how I would have them done and that is what matters most."

"We have a standard to uphold," her father began. "We need to show the ton-"

"We do not need to show anything to the ton," she interrupted. "This wedding is meant to be for myself and the Duke. It is not for us to show off to anyone."

"Diana-"

"That is the end of it," Diana insisted again. "I shall have a large cake with real flowers. And aside from that we shall need flowers and a great many other things to decorate the ballroom," Diana added. "I will go to the gardens and see what we may have that will make for a beautiful display. And to carry, of course."

"The Holsteads next door have lovely flowers in their garden. Perhaps they will allow you to use some of theirs," Marigold suggested.

"Yes, yes, there are some beautiful lilies there that would make a lovely crown," the Countess agreed, already making notes to speak with the Holsteads.

"Perhaps we should settle on a few things before we attempt to get too far ahead," Diana told them finally, as her mother and sisters began talking about far more than flowers and dresses.

And since, at this precise moment, no one seemed to be arguing, it seemed a good time to stop their discussion, before it ended in a feud between Diana and her mother.

She was also very aware that the things they were discussing, and the things she had said she would like to have for the wedding, would cost a great deal of money, and she was uncertain of the financial burden that would put on her family.

Surely the Duke would contribute something toward the expenses… wouldn't he?

Another day of poring over the books and he would be able to rest. At least for a short time. The spring harvest had ended, and all of the accounting was complete.

Though as his valet brought in the post, Matthew realized that rest would have to wait.

There was a letter from Diana, though he would not have recognized her hand without glancing first at the bottom, where she had signed her name.

"What have you got there, Cousin?"

"John, you really need to find yourself a hobby," he stated wryly as his cousin once again sank down into a chair across from his desk, making himself comfortable.

"What have you got?" John asked again, glancing at the letter.

"It's business."

"Business never makes you have quite that expression," John pointed out.

Matthew sighed, dropping the letter onto the desk. "It is from my betrothed. She wishes me to return to their estate to discuss the wedding plans."

"Ah, wedding plans are not business. That is pleasure," John informed him with another smile.

"For me, marriage is not meant to be for pleasure," Matthew retorted. "What happens between myself and Lady Diana will be a business arrangement."

"Lady Diana?" John looked up with a furrowed brow. "Who is Lady Diana? I thought you were set to marry Lady Marigold?"

"Yes, I was. However, there was a… discussion at our first meeting, and it was determined that I would instead marry Lady Diana."

Matthew felt slightly uncomfortable discussing this, but… well, it was John , after all. There was no need to hide anything from him .

"You changed the plan?"

"It was a minor change."

"Changing the woman you are set to marry does not seem like a minor change." John raised an eyebrow at him.

Matthew studiously looked away. It wasn't like him to change his plans, and his cousin knew it. Everyone knew it. And even he wasn't quite sure why he had agreed to the change, other than it had seemed easier at the time. Though he wasn't generally one to balk at difficult situations either.

"Let's go out."

"Out?" He'd felt certain that John was not going to let things go quite so easily, but this abrupt change of topic seemed to suggest otherwise.

"To the pub. Let's go. You've been poring over these stuffy books long enough. It's time you relax."

"There are things that still need to be done," Matthew replied, but he did fancy a pint himself.

"Come on, then. You have been holed up in this room for what feels like months."

"That's what happens when you have land to manage. You would not know—you have no responsibilities," Matthew retorted.

But as always, John did not care a wit for his cousin's rebukes, merely laughing and shaking his head. "Indeed, and who is the one that has it better? Come along, then."

With that, he stood up and walked out of the room, simply assuming that Matthew would follow. And of course, he was right.

Matthew sighed, made a notation of the work he still had to finish, and rose from his chair. He was happy for an excuse to enjoy himself, though the fact that it always required John for him to do so was frustrating enough.

"Now then," John began, once they had settled at the bar and each had a pint before them. "Tell me of this change of plans. You were settled on marrying Lady Marigold. What happened?"

"Lady Marigold is too young."

"I know my father would not make a mistake such as that. If he proposed Lady Marigold as a potential match, she must have been old enough to wed."

"Old enough to wed, perhaps, but not old enough to have outgrown her childish nature and tendencies."

"And so you changed the plan?"

"Rather than subject myself to a lifetime of being married to a woman who is practically a child in temperament if not age."

John shook his head and took a sip of his drink. "And what do we know about Lady Diana, then?"

"She is a firebrand," Matthew scoffed, before taking a swig of his own drink.

"Is she now? I don't know that I've ever heard you describe a lady in such terms—except perhaps Isabelle."

"Both ladies have earned the term," Matthew retorted.

"This one is quite different from the quiet, sweet girl my father suggested then." He had forgotten that John had sat in on their discussions of eligible ladies and knew the decisions that had been made.

"That she is. And I am certain she shall be a disruption to my life that I do not need."

Matthew was starting to second-guess the rash decision he had made, but it was too late now. He already obtained the special license, and starting another search for a wife seemed far more exhausting and time-consuming.

"A disruption, you say? A firebrand. A lady who has made you abandon your plans… Perhaps this is precisely what you have always needed." John grinned, leaning back in his chair to finish his pint.

"Whyever would you say that?"

"Because you have always been surrounded by those who say yes to you. Who aid you in everything that you wish. Who follow your every whim. Perhaps it shall be good for you to have a firebrand who does not follow orders."

"I do not look forward to this arrangement nearly as much as you, I presume."

"Likely not. But I shall be very pleased to watch the events unfold."

For the next several minutes, they were both silent, though Matthew was certain John was watching the people around them. As for himself, he was staring into his drink and contemplating what life was going to be like with this strange girl who had so abruptly upended his plans.

"Shall we drink to it?"

"To what?" he asked, pulled sharply from his musing.

"To your impending marriage. To Matthew!" John called out loudly, holding up his pint.

Everyone in the pub turned to look at them, which only caused Matthew to frown in frustration and John to grin. But nearly everyone also raised their cups, not caring what they were drinking to.

"Let us be done with this nonsense," Matthew admonished, finishing the remainder of his drink and rising immediately.

"Must we?"

"Some of us have work to finish. And then I must return to Waterburry House."

"Yes, for your wedding plans." John grinned yet again, and Matthew shook his head.

"The sooner this is over and done with, the better. Within a week, I shall be wed and will not have to bother with it again."

"No, you'll not have to bother with finding a wife again. But you shall have a wife. One who will be there, in your home, for the rest of your life."

This fact seemed to make John exceedingly happy. Or at least, exceedingly amused.

"That does not endear me to the fact of being married," was Matthew's wry response.

John only laughed at him and followed him back out of the pub and to the waiting horses for the ride back home. "Come on then, let us return so you can make your plans to visit your soon-to-be bride. I hope that she will do you good."

"I hope that she will turn out to be less trouble than she currently seems to be," Matthew muttered as he turned his horse down the lane to his house.

"I hope that she is every bit as much trouble as she seems to be, and more," John answered with a grin.

"You would wish such ill fortune on me, of course."

"I do not believe it will be ill fortune. I believe it shall be excellent fortune. And I am greatly looking forward to it."

With that, John left him at the front door, wandering off on his own, no doubt to get into some sort of mischief.

Matthew shook his head again and returned to his rooms.

It would be best, he supposed, to answer the summons and return to Waterburry House to speak with Lady Diana. To find out what it was that she wanted to tell him and to be done with this blasted wedding planning entirely.

The sooner it was all behind him, the sooner he could go on with his life. Though John's words about Lady Diana being in his home for the rest of his life certainly gave him pause. As did the thought that she might change more than just his marriage plans. The woman certainly was… something. And he did not appreciate the thought of his home being turned upside down.