Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

F ive and twenty and being courted by a murderer. Diana decided that that was just her luck, and she had made her peace with it.

Then she scolded herself for believing it. It was a silly rumor, nothing more, and there was no reason to pay it any mind. She was never the sort to listen to such horrid things, and she had once prided herself on that. She was not going to be like the other members of the ton ; she loathed them and refused to see herself in them.

But she saw the look on Samantha's face.

She knew instantly what the look was. It was one of fear, something that her sister rarely ever had. She was fearless and bold, every bit as much as Diana was herself, with the exception that she knew when to act like the perfect lady. Maybe that was the real reason why her father failed to mention her existence to the Duke, not that it mattered anymore.

"You didn't have to do that," Samantha said wistfully. "He told me we did not have to marry, and in all honesty, it would not have reflected badly upon us to have rejected a duke, not when he is the duke in question at least."

"Samantha, you never pay any heed to such gossip. Why now?"

"Have you seen him? There was a sort of look in his eyes, and at first, I thought it was one of a deranged man, but as we talked, I realized it was more so one of desperation. It changes nothing, however. You do not wish to marry him, and you had no reason to say that you would. Why did you do it?"

"Because," Diana said, as if she had a good reason, "I pity him. I do not wish to believe these rumors. Perhaps they are the same as the ones about us and are completely fabricated by people with nothing better to do."

"But who would do that to a duke? That would be too dangerous if it were not the case. Besides, the rumors about us are not fabricated. I dare say they are completely true."

"They are not."

"Oh? So we do not have a drunkard for a father? Has he not squandered every last penny on whiskey at White's?"

"Not every last penny. We have our dowries."

"If we are to believe Father, which I do not. It was for the best that we did not wish to marry, and now the Duke shall receive quite the shock."

"If you are right, that is."

"I am hardly ever wrong, not when it comes to him. For example, I knew the second he appeared in the doorway that something very bad indeed was going to happen, and now look where we are."

"I do not think that it is all bad. I mean, even if Father has squandered our dowries, it shall be of no consequence to the Duke, with all of the money that he has, and it will serve you greatly in your endeavors not to marry at all. Perhaps you would do better to see things in a more positive light."

"How are you so calm?"

"What other choice do I have, Samantha? If I do what I truly wish to, and scream until my body is sore and run until I cannot any longer, what will that achieve? Nothing at all. I have chosen what is to happen to me, and given the fates of others, I dare say that I am fortunate."

"Unless the rumors are true, and he truly is a horrible and murderous man. Then you would be the most unfortunate lady in all of England."

"You are not amusing."

"I am not trying to be! I know that we are in agreement that the rumors are downright bizarre, but that is not to say that we can trust this man completely."

"Why do you not trust him? He was completely understanding of your situation."

"He also found a man who seemed to be a terrible father and asked to marry one of his vulnerable daughters who would be less likely to refuse him in the first place. Do you not think that is strange?"

"I think that, if he planned to give someone a better life away from a terrible father, he certainly chose right with us."

"I just want you to be careful," Samantha sighed.

"Remind me of who the older sister is here." Diana smirked.

"You are not thinking properly, and so it is my duty to help you do so."

"I am well aware that I am not thinking clearly, but I am acting in your best interests, so that is what will happen. I do not regret it, you know."

"If you are sure, but you must promise me that if he does not make you happy, you shall call it all off. I shall gladly be ruined, truly."

"I cannot allow that."

"Then why are you marrying him? His reputation is even worse than ours, and so it would only serve to make mine even worse."

"Scandal fades. Ours only remained because we returned, the same as the Duke's seems to have. Situations change, and you shall be far better off as the sister of a duchess no matter what path you choose to follow."

"I cannot argue with that."

"No, you cannot." Diana giggled. "I know that I may not always do what makes sense to you, but you are always my priority. If you try and see the things that I do in that way, then you will understand more."

"And when are you going to do something for yourself?"

"Whenever I am given the opportunity to do so without it affecting you. Who knows? Perhaps I shall be given free rein over the decorations in my new home."

"You are not amusing," Samantha said, but she was at least laughing now, albeit quietly.

The Duke called on them, and after a brief greeting, they went on a promenade together, followed by Elizabeth, who seemed to be watching quite intently.

"I do apologize for my family," Diana sighed. "My sister is still quite wary of you, and my father… Well, he is my father."

"I do not mind at all. It is no surprise that your sister is unsure of me. Given the circumstances, I would be the same if I were her. I can hope to win her over, eventually."

"You may well do just that, especially if you engage her in conversation about science. The professor I told you about was completely disinterested in her."

"But your sister seems intelligent, not to mention well-spoken. Why would he dismiss her?"

"Intelligence means nothing when you are a woman. She will never be taken seriously as an academic, and it infuriates me. I truly did think that she was laughing with them because they were having a discussion, but as it turns out, they were mocking her. I do not understand it. I shall never understand it. It isn't fair."

"Perhaps as the sister of a duchess that might change?" he suggested. "If not, I shall be happy to accompany her the next time she wishes to discuss such things with gentlemen. They will not say a word if I am there, I can assure you."

Diana hated that the first reason she thought that would be the case was due to his current reputation.

"Is that—it cannot be!" a voice nearby whispered.

"A Winston sister out in public? I cannot believe it."

"Not only that, but look beside her!"

"Is that the Duke of Abaddon? How on earth is he still allowed to be among us?"

"It is terrible that they are not investigating him. Do they not know that he could strike again?"

One look from the Duke seemed to silence them instantly. Diana did not like hearing the whispers, but she certainly did like that he had the power to quieten them. In truth, she did not care what was said of her, so long as she did not have to hear it.

"Does it bother you?" she asked after a while.

"Does what bother me?"

"The talk."

"Not at all, no. I like to think that if they have nothing better to do with their time, I shall at least provide some form of interest to them. I consider it helping my community."

"Surely it must become quite grating, though," she replied, her head tilted to one side. "I know that it becomes hurtful after a while for myself."

"I noticed. Why do you think I gave them that look?"

"Oh. You did not need to do that for me."

"I know, but I cannot set a precedent that my wife can be spoken of in such a manner. I do not care what is said of me, but my duchess shall be another matter entirely."

"I am not your duchess."

"Yet."

"You are so sure of yourself, aren't you, Your Grace?"

"Of course. Why would I be anything else? I am engaged to a lovely lady, and she is so very grateful to be engaged to me."

"We are not engaged!"

"There's that blush."

"No, it isn't!"

But she had raised a hand to her cheek to cover it, and she had been so clear that that was her intention that of course the Duke noticed, and it did not help matters.

"Do not hide it, it is sweet."

"Ah yes, as Shakespeare once wrote, ‘See how like a maiden she blushes.'"

"Is that not the part of the play where he refuses to marry her?"

"It is, indeed. Perhaps you might do the same?"

"We are not all as fortunate as that."

"I bestow upon thee the opportunity. Now, be careful, for I shall only offer this once. Would you give this rotten orange to your friend?"

"Whyever would I do that? That would mean that I could not have you for myself."

Diana caught herself. Was she flirting? She had never done so before; she had never met a gentleman worth flirting with, and usually, they would take her attitude negatively and comment on it to her father, who was never happy with that. The Duke, however, seemed to almost like it.

It was either that or he was making the best of a bad situation. That was what she was doing, of course. She did not wish to be around him. She wished to be anywhere but beside him in the park, well aware that those out of earshot were discussing the match of the Season.

"The bluestocking and the murderer," she said without thinking, and he bristled.

"What did you say?" he asked, his voice still quiet.

"Oh, nothing, Your Grace. I was only saying that?—"

"You are a bluestocking, and I am a murderer."

"That we are seen as those things. I am not saying that I believe what has been said about you. I mean, I only found out because Samantha was concerned."

"Lady Diana, it is quite alright. I am perfectly aware that you are not the person that people claim you are, nor am I."

"I am willing to believe that, too."

"Then we are in agreement. There is no harm in what anyone else says, so long as that remains unchanged."

They continued to walk in silence, and Diana liked it. She liked that he was not the sort of gentleman to speak only of himself and how wonderful he was. She felt as though she had found a friend, and given her status, she could not have asked for much more than that.

"Why aren't you angry with me?" she asked after a while.

"Have you given me a reason to be?"

"Well, I did call you a murderer, as far as you could have known, at least."

"And you explained what you meant, and you were not truly calling me that. Why would I be angry about that?"

"Why wouldn't you be?"

"Because we all say things in a way that misconstrues our feelings from time to time. That does not warrant anger."

Diana thought back to all of the times she had said something wrong by mistake, and her father had screamed at her. He had always been kinder to Samantha, but they had had their moments too. Anger was all she had truly known as a girl, and the prospect of a life without it was quite tempting indeed, even if it was to be with a man that she did not know.

"And you are quite sure that you are not angry with me?"

"For heaven's sake, no."

"There is no need to speak to me in that manner."

"It appears that there is, as it is the only way to make you listen."

She bristled. That was not unlike something she had heard a hundred times from her father.

"I apologize."

"It is alright," he sighed. "But when I tell you something, I expect you to believe me."

"Why? I hardly know you at all."

"Because I am giving you the same grace. Is it truly too much to ask?"

"I… I suppose not."

"Right. Now, do you have any other questions for me?" he asked. "Because if we are truly to be husband and wife, I would like you to be well prepared for it. There is so much I would like to know about you, but I believe that all good things come with time, and so I am happy to wait."

"I agree with you. I think that should we be spending the rest of our lives together, then I shall have the rest of our lives to ask you questions. There is no reason to try and do it as quickly as possible."

The Duke accepted her answer, and they continued in silence. Diana couldn't help but think that Samantha would have liked the Duke a great deal had she given him a chance, but she had not, and now she seemed unwilling to accept him even as her brother-in-law.

And yet she had to scold herself. Here he was, being the perfect gentleman, being respectful and kind and sharing her jokes, and there she was, struggling not to ask him the one question that she truly did wish to ask him. She wondered if he would hate her for asking, or if he would laugh it off, or even if he would answer her seriously. After all, it was the sort of question that only truly had one answer if one were to be asked it.

There were other questions that she wished to ask, of course. What were your parents like? Will our home be large? How many children do you wish to have? Are we even going to have children?

But there was that one again, on the tip of her tongue, and she willed herself not to say it. He had been kind about her saying something in error once, but he did not have to give her the same grace a second time.

Did you do it?