Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

D iana did not know what her father expected as he recounted his tale.

Surely, it could not have been sympathy. If it were the case, he certainly was not going to receive any. Disdain and scorn, perhaps, but not sympathy and tenderness.

"You are a coward," she said at last, coldly.

"You should be thanking me."

"And why, pray tell, would I do that?" she snapped. "You abandoned us, only to come back when your hand was forced, and you were a terrible father. Now that you have a son, you think that you need to act. Is that it?"

"Diana, you do not understand. I could afford to ruin the family name before. You were both going to marry, and then the family name would end. Now that it is to continue, however, everything must change. I must leave a good reputation to my heir. He must inherit a lineage that is respected."

"His mother can handle that. Samantha and I needed you."

"His mother is dying."

"And our mother is dead. You never truly cared, did you? Why am I even asking? Of course, you did not—you killed her!"

"I did not mean to."

"You did it all the same."

"And you turned out perfectly well. You should thank me, but instead, all that you do is complain. I gave you far more than you deserved, you know."

"And what is it that we deserved as innocent children? Why is it that this wonderful son of yours needs to be treated differently? What did he do to warrant all of this?"

"He is an heir, a chance for my family to do something brilliant. You are a daughter. You are a liability. Your only notable success was your sister, who has proven to be just as much of a disappointment as you. Is that what you wished to hear? Are you now content that I am being honest with you?"

"Yes. It is only the way you have made us feel all our lives, when you could force yourself to be near us that is, but at least now you are not a coward and can say it to me outright."

"Then I may well continue, for you are still yet to thank me for all that I sacrificed for you."

Diana thought that, if her father ever did tell her all of that, she would cry. She was unsure of why she would cry, but she thought that it would be the right thing to do. Instead, she laughed in his face.

"It is funny, Father," she scoffed. "Throughout the planning of my wedding, Samantha and I have been terrified for you. Poor Father, I thought, how it must pain him to spend the rest of his life drunken and alone. I thought that I could find a way to make you happy, given how hard you have tried to fix things between us. I am glad to see now that it was all a lie."

"You need not worry for me. I am a man. I will make my own way."

"And I invite you to do so without the support of your daughters and the Duke."

"The Duke will not allow you to cut me off."

"It was the Duke's idea for me to do so. You may call my bluff if you wish, but he will not be as courteous to you as I am being right now, so I warn you to be wise with what you choose to do now."

"How many times must I say it before you understand? I do not need you. I have a son. He will do all of the things that you could not."

"Ah, yes, the young man who will be forced into the role that you never wanted either. Truly, what an excellent father you can be when you try."

"You are going to leave this house."

"That day cannot come soon enough. I cannot wait to be the wife of the Duke, the Duchess, and have you sitting here alone, waiting for a son who will never arrive, because he hates you as much as I do. You mean nothing to me."

No amount of cruelty seemed to upset him. It was the absolute proof that she needed that he did not care for her at all. He never had, and he never would, and that was precisely what she needed to know.

So she rose from her seat and began to walk away.

"You will leave tonight."

"I will do no such thing. You can go to White's, have those drinks that you so enjoy, and then you can decide whether or not you wish to return. Perhaps it would be better for all of us if you never did at all. The choice is yours."

She left him sitting there. Her only thought at that moment was the Duke and how much she wished to see him, to be comforted by him, but she soon thought of her sister and how she would give her the news.

All those years they had thought that it had been the two of them, but there was a third out there that they would never meet, and Samantha deserved to know.

The rest of the day passed with Samantha in tears, saying the same few things over and over into Diana's shoulder.

"Why didn't he tell us?"

"Can we find him?"

"Am I ever going to be enough for someone?"

And each time, Diana tried to soothe her, but it was futile. Diana had not, in truth, been too surprised by her father's revelation, and she was shocked that her sister seemed to have been.

"He is cruel," Samantha whispered that night, "but I never thought that he could do that. I never would have imagined, even for a second, that he was capable of doing all of this."

"You can come to stay with the Duke and me," Diana reminded her.

"I shall give you your honeymoon, at least." Samantha nodded. "It is to be a magical time, I have heard. You deserve that after all of this."

"If you are sure."

"Di, why are you not upset about all of this? You have not shed a single tear."

"Because it will not change matters. My priority right now is you, and ensuring that I am leaving you in the best possible conditions that I can. Otherwise, I do not know what I shall do when I am away."

"I hope that you let the Duke care for you. I believe he wants to."

"I believe I would like that very much, should he do so, although I cannot say that I can believe in such flights of fancy."

"Are you really going to leave, as Father asked?"

"Of course, I am not. The wedding is in a week, and so he shall tolerate my presence from now until then. I do not care what he thinks of my being here—it is as I said to him, he is welcome to abandon us once more."

"I wish that he would."

Soon after, Diana left a sleeping Samantha and went to her own bedchambers. She wished that she could fall asleep as easily as her sister had, but she could not. There were so many thoughts in her mind, each one refusing to leave her be. There was no mention of a name; she could not find her brother herself, and she would simply have to hope that he came to find her.

If she even wished for him to find her, that was.

The sleepless nights continued until her wedding day. She had not seen her husband-to-be since he had told her about her father, which meant that she was incapable of telling him the truth of the matter. She couldn't help but consider it a good thing, as it may well have enraged him fully. Yet, in spite of how much she scolded herself for being so selfish, she wanted his support, his comfort. She needed kindness, and her helplessness was bringing her to her knees.

As Samantha buttoned her corset for her, she felt it. The butterflies. She knew that sensation, as well as the fluttering in her chest. It had been a feeling that she had when she thought of the Duke, and each time she had pushed such things aside, for they were not feelings she wanted to have. She was to marry her friend and nothing more. Everything had been difficult enough without such things to complicate matters further.

"Are you ready?" Samantha asked. "Because you certainly look the part. You are a vision, Sister."

"Thank you, Samantha, but no. I do not think I will ever be ready for this."

"Then it is just as well that we are going now, rather than later. We can have this part done with, and then the two of you can focus on each other. That will be easier, don't you agree?"

"I hope so because this has been an awful lot to handle."

"And I have not exactly helped matters."

"Sister, I could not have gotten through this without you. How could you have possibly not helped?"

"With my refusal to marry. I should have played the part I was supposed to, and then you would not have had to concern yourself with me."

"It is an honor to care for you. I do not care what that man says. You are a treasure, and I will never think any differently of you."

"You will be such a wonderful duchess."

"I hope to be. I may not be a loving wife to the Duke, but I hope to serve him well as a duchess."

"He shall be content with that, I assure you. Now, we ought to leave for the altar."

"The altar," Diana echoed. "It truly is time, isn't it?"

"It is, but the sooner we arrive, the sooner it shall be over and done with. You can do this."

"I hope so."

Hope was quite a fickle thing, Diana had found. It never paid to have hope in anything, in her experience, and it only ever left her with disappointment. However, seeing the Duke at the other end of the aisle, she felt the rising of her chest, the quickening of her heart rate.

He was there, and he was going to rescue her from the life she had so hated. He would rescue her sister too, and with any luck, they would find contentment, and that was something to hope for, even if Diana was quite sure that doing so would be futile.

There was his face once more, the one that lit up upon the sight of her. It seemed too good to be true, Diana thought to herself, because why would he be so happy to be ensnared in such a loveless marriage?

He was keeping up appearances, she decided, and nothing more. Even so, her heart pounded at the sight of him. He was wonderful, and within a few mere moments, he would be hers.

Throughout the ceremony, she could not hear a word, even the ones she said herself. Her mind was filled with her soon-to-be husband and how he looked and smiled and spoke.

Then her soon-to-be husband became her husband, and she was happier than she had expected to lose those three little words. She was a wife, a duchess, and as they boarded the carriage, waving to the few guests that attended, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders.

She would never have to see that house again, see that man again. She could start over completely, and be Diana Novak, the Duchess of Abaddon. There would be a house to tend to, events in their village to attend, and a sister to rescue, but she would know peace, and that was a precious gift that she had never expected to receive.

"How are you feeling, Your Grace?"

Her attention snapped to her husband, who was looking at her expectantly.

"I thought we were going to drop the formalities," she replied with a smile.

"I would very much like to, but I thought you might like to hear it just once. You are a duchess now, after all, and so you ought to get used to the title."

"You are right, I suppose."

"But from now on, if it pleases you, I shall like to call you Diana."

Her name sounded beautiful when he said it. She had never much liked it before, but when he spoke it, it was as though she was hearing it for the first time.

"I shall like that very much," she said gently, "but only if I can call you…"

"Say it," he teased.

"I cannot. It is too improper."

"It is not in the least bit improper. You are my wife. Regardless, when have you ever cared for propriety?"

"I suppose you are right… Colin."

"There. That was not too difficult, was it?"

"It was not at all. I believe I will adapt quite well to it."

"Wonderful."

She wanted to tell him about her father, and all that she had discovered, but she couldn't bring herself to. She did not wish to ruin the moment, and with the two of them in some sort of marital bliss, she wanted to hold onto it as much as she could.

"Is something troubling you?"

"No," she replied. "It is only that the day has been so long, and now the journey shall be long. It has been a lot."

"And you have been wonderful with it. It is going to be easier soon enough, once you have had time to adapt."

"I do hope so because I truly do think that I can do this. I want to be the duchess that your villagers deserve."

"You are everything that they could ever want and more. All will be well, I assure you, and soon enough, your sister will visit us and you shall feel even more at home."

"Home…"

It was a strange word. Diana did not know what it meant to be home, even though she had lived in the same place all of her life. She hoped that her life with the Duke would be different.

There was that word again. Hope. Would her life be any different now that she was a duchess? She could not be sure, but she wanted it to be, and when she looked at her husband, who was looking back at her as if she had never done anything wrong to anyone in her life, she thought that it might be possible.

A husband and a home. Had she been asked a few months before, she would have scoffed and sighed and sworn that she wanted anything but those two things. It was not what she had dreamed of, not for herself at least, and in the blink of an eye, she had both, and she did not know what to do with that.

But she wanted it. She wanted the life that Colin offered her, and she wanted the hope that she felt in her heart whenever she saw him. It wasn't love, but it was more than what she ever could have expected. That was a good start, at least.

"Would it be alright," he asked suddenly, "if I called you Duchess, just for a short while?"

"I can be amenable to that," she replied, not wanting to ask him why he had had such a sudden change of heart.

"Wonderful. In which case, I shall inform you that we shall be going for another few hours, and so you might wish to get some rest, my Duchess."

"Very well, my Duke." She giggled. "Should I find myself able to."

"You can do anything," he said softly. "You shall find a way to sleep in a carriage."

She hoped so, at least.