Page 56 of Duke of Diamonds
Fiona looked away, biting back a smile.Perhaps there is hope for us after all.
CHAPTER 19
“The florist sent word that the white peonies have arrived,” Prudence said as she adjusted her napkin. “You know how difficult they are to procure this late in the season, but nothing less would do, of course. White peonies, ivory roses—the effect will be sublime.”
Two days before the wedding, Fiona sat at dinner with her parents, the silver cutlery gleaming under the chandelier’s glow, its brightness in stark contrast to the tension thickening the air.
Prudence dabbed delicately at her mouth before clasping her hands beneath her chin, her expression bright with excitement.
“Oh, and can you believe society is anticipating the wedding?” she said with breathless delight. “The Morning Gazette featured your engagement again just this morning. The columns can hardly stop chattering about what a beautiful couple you and the Duke shall make, Fiona darling.”
Fiona didn’t look up. She merely cut into her steak with scrupulous care, dividing it into perfect, bite-sized cubes. Slowly, she dipped each piece into the gravy and chewed longer than necessary.
Across the table, her father made a sound of disdain, loud enough to break through her practiced indifference.
“It does not change the fact that it is a shameful union,” George muttered, fingers tightening around his wineglass. “A public scandal, paraded about for all to see.”
Prudence gave a flutter of her hand, as if shooing away an offending thought. “Oh, such negativity, George. That is all in the past now. People forget quickly when there is a title involved.”
Fiona took a hearty sip of her wine.
Yes, nothing soothes public opinion like a coronet and an ancient name,she thought grimly.
Her father wasn’t finished.
“Tell me, girl,” he said, cutting through her silence. “Is this what you dreamed of for yourself? A beast of a Duke, penniless and cursed with a name that makes decent men shudder?”
Fiona lifted her gaze slowly, setting her knife down with calm deliberation.
Before she could reply, her mother interjected.
“Who says he is penniless, George? Surely, the title alone carries some fortune still?”
Fiona turned to her mother in disbelief.
“Is that truly what concerns you?” she asked. “His bank ledgers?”
Prudence blinked, taken aback. “Well, I should hope for your sake that he can support a household. You must think of the future, Fiona. A home, a reputation, children?—”
“Yes,” George cut in sharply, “and think of the legacy. Or what remains of it. The man lives among the ashes of the fortune his dead father squandered. The Craton name was dragged through the mud before the boy even came of age.”
Fiona picked up her wineglass once more, lifting it with a quiet poise.And yet, for all that ruin, I have never felt safer than in his presence.
Her mother looked more unsure now. “Surely those are only rumors,” she said, her voice faltering, as if trying to convince herself more than anyone else.
George scoffed. “Apparently, such a man appeals to our daughter, Prudence.”
His words were like stones, sharp and deliberate.
Fiona set her wineglass down, her fingers curling slightly around the stem. “Well, Canterlack was certainly not my dream, Father.”
George’s face darkened. “You insolent child!”
He drew breath, his features twisting with rising fury.
“First you shame me, then you dare speak back as if you have done no wrong!” he barked. “You bring disgrace to my name?—”
“Perhaps it was your name that brought disgrace to me,” Fiona said, her heart pounding.
