Chapter 3

For the first time in her life, Diana did not wish to listen to her sister.

She did not care to hear a single word about her wonderful evening, nor about how the professor had called her prodigy of science and other wonderful things, not when she was so conflicted.

She also hated that she was conflicted. There was no need to be, after all; it was so clear that she was completely wrong for what had happened, and it was her fault entirely, and she should have just allowed the Duke to be kind to her and smiled and spoken meekly like she was expected to, then he might have left her alone.

The remainder of the evening passed by in a blur, which she saw as a blessing. There were no more mysterious encounters, no more tempting scandal, and unlike what felt like everyone else in attendance, she was quite happy for that to be the case.

"Are you even listening to me?" Samantha asked, and it pulled her back to the present.

They were in the carriage, returning home, and their father was sitting across from them with his eyes looking everywhere but at his daughters. It was not unusual for him to be like that, of course, and it was in fact preferable for the two of them, as it meant that they did not need to look at him either.

"My apologies, Sister," Diana sighed. "The evening has been rather intense, that is all."

"Ah. That is alright, then. We can discuss it tomorrow. I simply must tell you about it, though. It has left me furious."

Usually, the idea that her sister was in such spirits would be enough for her to abandon her own feelings in order to listen to her, but it didn't. Diana was far too preoccupied with telling herself how careless she had been.

She had never acted in such a brazen manner. Even then and there, with the clarity returning to her mind, she couldn't understand why she had done it. It was certainly not that she loved the Duke—far from it! It was also not that she was trying to trap him in marriage. In fact, there was nothing at all to do with the Duke that she thought mattered.

She had wanted to prove a point, even if nobody had seen it but herself and the poor gentleman that she had used to prove it. Frankly, she kissed him because she wanted to, and she wanted to because she knew that high society did not want her to. It was terrible and forbidden and exactly what she had needed to feel something other than the emptiness that had been eating at her.

But that beautiful clarity was hanging over her. She was not bold and brave for what she did—she was reckless. She risked her sister's future simply because she wished to have a small moment of rebellion, and she could not even say that it was worth it. She had done all of that for nothing, and she hated herself for it.

And she could not even tell Samantha about it. After a sleepless night, she went to breakfast and was confronted by her younger sister, who was eating toast and staring at her.

"You look terrible, Di," Samantha gasped. "Have you been taken ill?"

"I do not believe so," Diana said gently, seating herself beside her. "Though with all of the excitement of last night, I cannot say that I slept very well."

"Nor did I. Oh, Diana, please tell me that you can listen to me now!"

"Of course. I apologize that I could not last night."

"I shall start from the beginning. As you know, I wanted to speak to the professor last night. Well, when I did, I introduced myself, and he smirked at me. He told me that he was married, as if that was what I was speaking to him for."

"I saw the gentleman, and frankly he needs to take a good look at himself too. I highly doubt any young lady is looking at him in such a way, much less one such as yourself."

"In any case, I tried to ignore it. I thought that he had been accosted already that evening, or that he simply wished to shut down any lady speaking to him out of respect for his wife, which I of course understand. No, the part that infuriated me was that when I tried to discuss the part I was curious about, and I asked him a question, he laughed at me. Laughed, I tell you, as did his friends."

"Was your question one that warranted such a reaction?"

"Not at all, I do not think. And, you know, I reread the part this morning, and I now know exactly what the problem was. He had not written it correctly. He had misspelled two words, and the way it was written made it utterly incomprehensible. It was not my fault at all."

"Which is likely why he laughed, Sister. He did not wish for it to be his own fault, and so it had to be yours."

Diana winced as she said it. Her behavior that evening had not been too dissimilar.

"In any case, I hope to never have the misfortune of seeing him again. Horrible man."

"You can at least have pride that you were more intelligent than him. He knows it, too. That is why he had no choice but to act in the way he did."

"I suppose. Thank you, Diana. You always know what to say to me."

"Well, I should expect so after speaking to you for twenty years."

"Did you manage to speak with anyone last night?"

"No," Diana replied a little too quickly, hoping that her cheeks were not flaming and giving her away.

"I expected as much, but not to worry. I can tell you all about the scandal that unfolded."

The hairs on the back of her neck bristled. She could hear it so clearly. "A lady was caught with a duke alone! They are trying to find her as we speak." That was all that she needed to hear for her to collapse completely.

"Oh, Di, I know that societal matters do not matter to you, but this one is serious! It is a mystery, and I know how much you love those. It just so happens that this mystery pertains to a duke, which you find less interesting, but nevertheless do you not think it would be incredible if?—"

"I do not know what you are talking about."

Samantha stared at her. Diana stared back.

"I know," Samantha said slowly. "That is why I am telling you about it."

"I do not care for the affairs of some duke, rather."

"But it pertains to a murder!"

At this, part of Diana breathed a sigh of relief and another part of her only felt worse. To be sure, it meant that it had nothing to do with her, but it also meant that it was far, far worse than a scandal. This was not some silly little love affair—it was a murder, an actual crime rather than a social one.

"Alright," she sighed, "go ahead."

"I knew you would be interested! Alright, so there is a duke who was present at the ball last night, and he was shunned by the ton upon his entry. You would think that is weird, given his position and all, but then I overheard a discussion about him. He is new in town, and he has immediately been the talk of the ton . I mean, anyone would be if they were a murderer."

"To be sure."

"And the more I heard about him, the more it infuriated me. I mean, I was already angered by the encounter I had had with that horrid gentleman, but the way they all spoke of this duke as if he was guilty, even though he has of course not even been tried for it, was awful. It is as though they have judged him without knowing him, and you and I know precisely how that feels."

"But you are talking about it even now."

"Well, yes, because you are my sister, and it is not as though you have anyone to tell. Besides, you seem out of sorts, and I will do anything to fix that."

"You are incredibly sweet, Samantha, but I assure you that there is no need for that. I shall be fine by tomorrow morning."

Because, by then, she would know whether or not they had been seen, and whether or not she had ruined her sister.

"Well, I for one think it is all ridiculous. The ton will believe anything, and as for what interests them… that can only be described as anything as well. It makes me almost happy to have never been a part of it."

"I have to agree. You and I are most fortunate in that respect, even if others might not see it that way."

"Yes, we at least get to be seen as people!"

"Good morning, ladies."

The two of them turned to see their father in the doorway, ready for breakfast for the first time in as long as they could remember, which was only a sign that it had never happened.

"What are you doing here, Father?" Samantha asked.

"What does it look like? I am having breakfast with my girls."

He was happier than Diana had ever seen him. In any other family, this would have been a good thing, but when it came to her father, it was anything but good that something had brought him joy.

"How did the two of you find the evening?" he asked, taking a piece of fruit. "I know that we do not tend to go to events, so I suppose it was quite the novelty."

"It was wonderful, Father," Samantha replied dutifully. "Actually, I was hoping to attend another in the near future. Diana agrees that it is a good idea, do you not, Sister?"

Diana did not. She certainly did not want to attend another high society event again for a long time, if ever. One had been quite enough, and she was all too happy to tell her sister that but not her father. He only required one of his daughters to be against it for his resolve to strengthen and buttress his opinion that they needn't go anywhere or do anything.

"Yes, Father." She nodded, her smile forced. "It would be wonderful in terms of the opportunities that it could offer Samantha, too. I would be happy to accompany her myself, should you ever not wish to go. Given my situation, it only makes sense."

"Oh, but there will be no need for any other events," the Earl said brightly, and both girls stared at him.

Diana's blood ran cold. Of all the people who could have seen her with the Duke and would now pressure her to marry, could it have been her own father? How would she convince him that she would remain a spinster and that she would be a better carer for him than Samantha would?

"What do you mean?" Samantha asked, which Diana was grateful for because she was quite sure that she could not speak.

"You are engaged, Samantha."

Both ladies fell silent. Diana willed her sister to maintain her composure and to politely ask what he meant, lest it devolve into a screaming match within seconds.

"What?" Samantha asked finally.

"Do not speak to me that way."

"My apologies, Father, but what do you mean? I am not even being courted. How can I be engaged?"

"Ah, it is not exactly the sort of proposal you shall wish to tell your future children, but I can tell you if you wish. After we returned home, I went to White's. There was a gentleman there, and he approached me and asked if I had a daughter. I may or may not have forgotten you, Diana, but that does not matter. What matters is that I said yes and that her name was Samantha."

Diana was unsure of whether or not to be grateful to have been forgotten.

"Then what happened?" Samantha asked carefully, the color drained from her face.

"Quite simply, he asked me if you were married, and then I told him that you were not. He said that was all he needed to know, and that he would marry you. I accepted. You will now be a wife, and my work as your father is done. You are most welcome."

Both ladies remained quiet. Diana wondered what exactly was going through her sister's mind, but she knew that the only thought in her own was that some gentleman was clearly looking for the first lady he stumbled upon. It just so happened to have been Samantha, and their father could not care less about what had led such a gentleman to make such a request.

"Who is he?" Samantha asked softly. "The gentleman I am to… marry."

"That is not the correct way to show gratitude, young lady. Have I taught you nothing?"

Yes , Diana thought, yes, that is precisely it, you have taught her nothing.

"Thank you, Father," Samantha sighed. "Now, might you answer my question?"

"In truth, I do not know who he is, but it is no matter. He will be a husband, in any case, and he seemed quite desperate for you. Now, the two of you must finish quickly and put your finest gowns on. He shall be here soon."

Neither one of them dared tell him that they were already in their finest the night before. They finished eating within seconds and ran out of the dining hall.

"The one time that he joins us," Samantha said coldly when they reached their bedchambers, "and it is to tell us that?"

"Oh, Samantha, I am so sorry. Try not to think about it. Perhaps he will not come at all. Perhaps it was nothing more than two drunkards talking to one another and not meaning a word of it, or maybe Father imagined it and it did not happen at all. That has happened before!"

This was true, but her sister shook her head all the same.

"He spoke with too much conviction for that," Samantha sighed. "You heard him, he was completely sure of himself."

"There is still hope," Diana promised, taking their second-best gowns and dressing herself in her own.

Their hopes were soon dashed, however, when they approached the drawing room and heard the voice of a second gentleman. Diana froze, realizing that she recognized the voice, but Samantha continued on.

"Well, there is no time like the present." Samantha laughed emptily. "Come, let us meet my husband."

Diana wanted to pull her sister away, realizing all too late that she did not wish to come face to face with the suitor. Samantha had already walked through the door, and she had already followed her.

Right into the drawing room. Right in front of the man she had kissed.