Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

S he was married.

Officially married.

Diana Benson, the Duchess of Cardan.

The thought of it was… overwhelming. And yet here she was, sitting beside her husband as they enjoyed their wedding breakfast. And just like that, this was no longer her home.

Rather, it was her parents' home. Her sisters' home. Her brother's home. But no longer her own.

The Duke—Matthew, she reminded herself—glanced over at her with a strange look on his face. One of almost… concern? Was he concerned about her?

Philip, certainly, was concerned. He had not voiced anything about the match, or about Matthew himself, but the looks he had given her and Matthew seemed to suggest… well, they seemed to suggest that perhaps he had heard news about the Duke at university as well.

The entire breakfast seemed to pass in a blur. There were people all around her. Many of them talking, trying to monopolize her attention. Smiling and laughing about the ceremony, about the breakfast, about the ball that was to come. But none of that seemed to register. All she could think about was… well, nothing at all.

Every thought that came to her mind seemed to flit away just as quickly, and she couldn't seem to focus on anything… save for one thing. That she was married.

"Diana?"

Diana looked up sharply at the voice, into the concerned eyes of her sister. Marigold was holding out a hand to her, and everyone was watching her now. She wondered if Marigold had said something and how long she'd been standing there.

But she forced a quick smile, took her sister's hand in her own, and allowed herself to be led away from the table and upstairs to her room.

No. Not her room, she reminded herself. Not anymore. Now it was just a spare room, she supposed.

All of the personal things she was taking with her had already been packed away. Save for the gown she would now change into for the ball.

"It's so… strange to be sending you away. For you to be going to a new home," Marigold admitted.

"This is the way it is supposed to be," Diana replied. "Sisters getting married and going to live in their husbands' houses. It's just the way of the world."

Not that she had to like it. And she didn't. In fact, she was very much unhappy about it. But it wouldn't do to let Marigold know that. Especially when the poor girl already felt guilty enough for her role in the whole mess.

"You know that I don't blame you for anything, right?" Diana asked firmly, clutching her sisters' shoulders.

Marigold looked away from her, staring at the ground, but Diana wasn't about to let up.

"Do you understand that?"

"If it weren't for me behaving like a child, you wouldn't be in this mess."

"Perhaps not," Diana acknowledged. "But then you would be the one in this mess. And, really, it's not so bad for me. I'll manage well enough."

At least, she hoped that she would. Hoped that everything would turn out all right… somehow.

"How could you? With what we know about that man…" Marigold was trying very hard not to sob now.

Diana pulled her into her arms. "I'll manage," she repeated. "And I don't think he's going to be that bad. I think it'll all be all right."

Because something about the gentle look in his eyes when he'd watched her during the ceremony, and the little smiles she'd caught as he did, led her to believe that maybe, just maybe, this could all work out for the best.

"But I will miss you."

"I will miss you as well," she admitted. "All of you."

For quite some time, they stood like that, holding one another. Lost in their thoughts. And then Diana sighed.

"We had best get going. You can help me by looking over my gown and making sure that everything looks fine."

"You are lovely," Marigold told her, not even bothering to look at the dress. "I knew you would look lovely, but this gown…"

"It is lovely, isn't it?"

And Diana had to admit that it was. Staring into the looking glass, she looked… vibrant, beautiful. The gown hugged every curve even better. But did it have to be so uncomfortable?

The seamstress had taken her measurements to make the dress, and now Diana wondered if the woman had sized it wrong because it was too tight around her waist, making it difficult to breathe. A fact that was not helped by the strings of pearls wrapped around her neck. A wedding gift from her mother that she had not been able to refuse.

"Come along then, it's time for you to make your grand entrance," Arabella said from the doorway, and her two sisters turned toward her with a brief nod.

One more hug between the girls and they were striding out the door and to the top of the stairs.

Marigold looped an arm through Arabella's and moved around in front of Diana, looking her over yet again with a smile. "We'll go first, and you… you look lovely," she insisted again.

Diana gave the both of them yet another smile before watching them move out of the way. And then it was her turn. Her turn because everyone was turning to look at the stairs. At her.

With a slow, deep breath, she went down the stairs, taking each step carefully lest she trip and fall.

She'd been navigating these very same steps since she was a toddler, but it wouldn't do to fall down now, in front of all of these people.

Her feet, however, seemed to have a mind of their own, moving as quickly as they would carry her. Before she knew it, she was at the bottom of the steps, and there was Matthew, standing there, holding his hand out for her, watching.

That same look from earlier was on his face. The unreadable look that only made her that much more curious about him. About… whatever it was he was thinking.

For now, he drew her into his arms and led her into the ballroom while everyone watched. But he didn't lead her to the dance floor. Rather, he led her across the room to a man and woman who seemed deep in conversation, broad smiles on their faces.

"Your Grace," the girl greeted Diana with a bright smile and a curtsey.

Diana's eyes widened in surprise. Yes. She was a duchess now. The title was hers by right, but she guessed that from the way both of them looked at Matthew, this was not how they would normally greet him.

Matthew actually gave the two of them a small smile and then turned toward Diana. "Diana, these are my cousins, John and Isabelle."

Diana bobbed a slight curtsey.

John laughed. "None of that now. We're the ones who should be bowing to you. You're a duchess now, after all." He smiled as he said it, and she immediately felt at ease with the two of them.

"We're going to be great friends," Isabelle added. "After all, we're going to be living together."

"Oh?" Diana looked from Isabelle to Matthew, who only shook his head slightly but didn't say anything.

"Don't scare her off," John chided, casting a beautiful smile in her direction "We don't live with you. We just tend to spend a great deal of time with Matthew," he added, before turning to Matthew. "Our father was unable to come today. He sends his regards. And of course, he is very pleased with your marriage."

"He should be—he's the one who told me that I should marry, and soon," Matthew replied.

"It is too bad he could not make it, then," Diana spoke up.

John shook his head slightly. "It's not, really. We'll have more fun with him at home than if he was here."

She was not sure what to say to that, but Isabelle laughed, so she smiled. "If you would be so kind as to excuse me, I shall step out for a little fresh air."

Matthew looked at her curiously for a long moment but then released her so she could make her way to the balcony.

Her dress was beautiful, and she did love the way it made her look, but at the same time… it felt a little overwhelming. And the pearls around her throat were even more so.

As Diana stood on the balcony, looking out over the oh-so-familiar grounds, she wondered just how she was ever going to say goodbye to this place. But perhaps things would not be so bad in her new home. Matthew did not seem as awful as she had expected, at least. And if John and Isabelle were there as often as they implied, it might be… pleasant.

"Oh, Diana, there you are!"

She turned sharply at the sound of that feminine voice, and a smile spread across her face.

It had been a long time since she had seen Alice. Since her wedding, Diana supposed. And Elizabeth and Martha, who were following behind her.

"You look lovely, Diana—Oh, we should call you ‘Your Grace' now, should we not?" Martha asked, her lips turned up into a bright smile that did not reach her eyes.

"It is Diana, the same as ever," Diana replied, reaching forward to hug each of her friends in turn.

Once, they had been close. As close as any friends could be. But then each of them had gotten married, and it had become more difficult to remain in touch with them, as they had scattered across England with their new husbands.

"And how have you been, Alice?" Diana asked.

"Oh, I have been doing well, of course. I am quite busy. Edward is quite involved in the House of Lords and so we host quite a few events throughout the Season. I must say, he was quite pleased that my connection to you earned us an invitation to this event."

"And what about your watercolors?" Diana asked.

Alice laughed lightly, waving her hand as if they were of no significance. "There are a great many things that require a woman's time rather than watercolors."

"You were always quite good," Diana insisted, her brow furrowed at the way Alice seemed so… unconcerned.

"I have more important things to do now. There are a number of events to host when your husband is in politics. And not a lot of time for silly things."

Diana paused and turned toward Martha. "And you? How have you been getting on?"

"Oh, things are quite wonderful, don't you know? I never did have an eye for watercolors or anything of the sort, but my husband is quite often away from home, so I have actually begun to dabble in a number of things."

"He is away a great deal?" Diana asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Martha nodded and gave her that same bright smile that did not reach her eyes.

"And what about the time when he is home?"

"He is often quite busy, even when he is at home. It is better that way anyway."

The way she glanced away as she said it implied a great deal more than she was willing to let on, and Diana wondered just how bad things were when her friend's husband was home and paying attention to her.

Which left…

She turned toward Elizabeth, who seemed to be waiting for the same question. "And your husband? It is Arthur, is it not?"

"It is, and I am sure he will be pleased that you have asked after him," Elizabeth replied promptly, but there was something in her voice…

"I would much rather hear about you," Diana said.

Elizabeth forced a smile. "I am well, thank you."

"Something is the matter. Come, tell me what is wrong?" Diana caught the way Martha and Alice exchanged glances, and her eyes narrowed even further. "Is there something I should know about?"

"Nothing at all. I shall return to the ball now. It was lovely to see you again, Diana. I do hope that now that you are wed, we shall see you more often."

With that, Elizabeth turned on her heel and walked away. Martha gave a small smile before hurrying after her.

"Her husband is often away from home as well," Alice explained quietly. "Though not on business. That is Arthur there." She gestured into the ballroom, and Diana caught sight of the man at once.

A coxcomb. It was immediately obvious. The way he leaned in just a little too closely to the women around him. The way he spoke to the women and not to the gentlemen nearby. And there was something about the smile on his face…

"She is not happy in her marriage either?" Diana asked, though she wondered how anyone could be while married to such a man.

"It is said he has a mistress. And that he is bold enough to have her sleep in his own home."

At those words, Diana felt her heart harden even further.

Three women she had known.

Women with great potential and ambitions. And all three wed. And now look at them. Reduced to this.

She would never allow that to happen to her. Married she might be, but she would not allow it to destroy her in such a way.

"Diana?"

She raised her head sharply at the sound of her name, her shoulders pulled back and her eyes hard as she stared at the man who was now her husband. The man who she had, for a moment, thought might be an acceptable choice…

"Your Grace." Alice immediately bobbed a curtsey.

Matthew spared her a cursory bow before she scurried away.

"Would you be so kind as to join me in a dance, Duchess?" Matthew asked, reaching out a hand toward Diana.

She hesitated for a moment before placing her hand in his. "Of course, Duke," she replied politely, but her voice was cold and sharp, something he no doubt noticed as his eyes narrowed in confusion before he led her back into the ballroom.

As his arms wrapped around her and they began to move in the familiar steps of the dance, Diana held herself stiffly, ignoring every attempt on his part to initiate conversation, determined that whatever happened, she would not allow herself to become a broken woman like her friends. What every married woman of the ton was.

Women married and they lost themselves. Some by choice, others by necessity. Some, like Alice, convinced themselves that they didn't care what they lost. Others, like Martha, attempted to hide their unhappiness from others. And others, like Elizabeth, barely seemed to care what others knew.

Diana would not become that. Would not allow that to be her, no matter what else might come her way.