Page 65 of Lady Diana's Lost Lord
Best to let Marcus and Rafedo it in her stead.
Wasn’t it?
The queer silence that settled over the table perturbed her, and Diana turned her gaze down to the milky tea within her cup as if it might hold the answers she sought. Shehadflown clear across England, only to give Ben—who it turned out had not truly deserved it—a piece of her mind. Why, then, should she surrender the opportunity to place that blame squarely where it ought to be laid? She wasn’t the frightened child she had once been any longer, the one who had let herself be cowed into submission by the father who had never cared for her.
She had grown, changed. She had shed the weight of expectations she could never have hoped to have met. She had defied her family and taken her life into her own hands.
She had fallen in love, and had that love torn away from her. And she hadletit happen.
You have had to be so strong. So much stronger than you know. She hadn’t felt very strong when Lydia had offered her those comforting words. She’d felt miserable. Shestillfelt miserable. But that misery had been thrust upon her, and she—she didn’t have to accept it. Couldn’t she be just a little stronger, still?
Ben had done what had needed to be done, because he had had no other choice. He’d been alone in the world, suddenly adrift with no friends, no family, no support, and a young child to care for all on his own. She could never fault him for his decisions, for he had sacrificed so much of himself in the making of them only to give Hannah a better life. In every way, he had surrendered his own needs, his own desires, for the little girl who depended upon him. She had loved him for that nearly immediately, for being a father first and foremost. For showing her what an unconditional love looked like, felt like.
She had once considered herself little more than a puppet, drawn by the invisible ropes of an engagement that had been arranged by their fathers years and years ago. Those ropes had bound her, choked her, and yet, for the first time it occurred to her that they stretched both directions. She was not the only one bound within them. She could slice through them, as she had intended, and free herself from that bondage. Or she could wrap her hands around them and give them a good yank. See what a healthy show of that strength that she had earned might gain her.
Shewasstronger than she had known. But more than that, she was not alone. Not helpless, or friendless, or deprived of family or support. She hadresources at her disposal, and even if they thought her mad or reckless, still they would stand by her.
“You’re right,” she heard herself say, in a wondering tone. “You’re right.” For the first time in days—weeks—a curious sense of peace settled over her. It would not be easy, but then she supposed that perhaps nothing worth having ever did come easily. Too long she had simply let life happentoher, let her choices be taken from her hands.
But happiness—that was worth fighting for. Worth confronting a marquess in his lair and demanding her due. He’d misspent the entirety of her dowry already; what claim had he on her future? On Ben’s? On Hannah’s?
Emma passed a plate of biscuits before her nose. “Here,” she said. “I’m not certain what you’re plotting, but I find that expression on your face a trifle…unsettling.”
Pray God so would the damned marquess. She selected a biscuit and crunched through the crisp wafer with teeth that felt strong enough to rip a man’s jugular straight from his neck.
“I’m not certain yet, either,” Diana said. Probably she would need a few days to prepare herself, to don her battle armor, and to compose in her head exactly what she wished to say. Cutting words, sharp as knives and twice as deadly, designed to slice a man down to size so that she could crush him beneath her heel. A twist of the blade so precise, so devastating, that he would not dare to rise against her. “But I doknow that Marcus is not going to like it.”
Chapter Twenty Five
Absolutely not.”
Diana let out a short, sharp breath. “Marcus, once again you seem to be laboring beneath the misapprehension that I was asking. I wasn’t. I am telling you—”
“AndIam tellingyouthat you cannot go gallivanting off once again,” he said. “Good God, you’ve been back hardly a fortnight, and to the best of my knowledge, the marquess isn’t even in London.” Rubbing at his eyes as if he had grown unbearably weary, he sent a pleading glance toward Lydia.
Lydia, bless her, merely handed little Edward a sugar biscuit to gum—he’d been in a terribly fussy state, with a new tooth coming in—and said, “I think it’s brilliant.”
“You’re meant to be onmyside,” Marcus groused.
“Darling, I’m not choosing sides. Naturally, I support you both.” Lydia cast a sympathetic look toward Diana. “But I won’t pretend I don’t admire your mettle,” she added.
“Mettleis hardly the issue,” Marcus said. “Women don’t involve themselves in such matters. Whatever business there is left with the marquess, I will handle.” With a sigh, he raked one hand through his hair. “I ought to have done it years ago.” Probably there was some guilt for that lurking somewhere inside him, Diana thought—but he had had his own troubles, and then a wife, a son. And for years, Diana had simply stewed in her unhappiness, so accustomed to being overlooked that it had not even occurred to her to make it known.
Rafe sipped his glass of brandy thoughtfully. “Well, it’s not as if the marquess would have made it a simple matter, besides,” he said. “He gave up the lease on his London residence years and years ago, and to all accounts he’s buried himself in Hertfordshire. It’s likely he’s not got the funds to keep himself in proper style in London.” And then, at Marcus’ odd look, he added, “You truly didn’t know?”
“No,” Marcus said shortly. “And now I must wonder how it is that youdid.”
“That really is none of your concern.” He cast a regretful look to Diana. “My apologies. You’ve just come back. Therewillbe talk if you’re off again so soon.”
“Now, now. Diana has got every right to be involved. After all, itisher engagement we are speaking of.” Lydia handed Edward over to Marcus to cuddle. “But of course you cannot go off to Hertfordshire alone. Which is why we shall have to go with you. A family trip; nothing unsavory at all in that. Won’t it be pleasant?”
Rafe gave a dry snort, thumbing at his nose. “Definepleasant. Last time I made the mistake of sharing your carriage, Edward cast up his accounts all over my boots.”
“Well, he can hardly help that, can he?” Marcus said in defense of his son.
Lydia laid one hand lightly upon Marcus’ shoulder, but her gaze landed on both men in turn. “Your sister is here, and she requires your aid,” she said. “Will you force her to go behind your back to do what she must?”
With an expression bordering on surly, Marcus allowed, “I supposethat, as Diana has got a vested interest in the outcome of this, we might as well all go together.”
