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CHAPTER EIGHT

“ G iven our circumstances, it seemed a logical decision,” Diana said, finger trailing the brass pins forming her initials on the trunk that would soon accommodate her modest trousseau.

“After careful consideration, I find our match prudent. Yet, it is a resoundingly daring undertaking as well. Don’t you think? ”

Lillian was packing her portmanteau for Chamberly.

Nearly a year had passed since their roles were reversed.

When Lil had helped her pack that very same portmanteau and then pinned Diana’s hair and tied the ribbons on her bonnet tightly so it couldn’t fly off her head in a gust from the sea.

The post-chaise Mother hired had spirited Diana to the Cornish port of Falmouth, where she boarded the packet Swiftsure for her journey across the ocean in a vessel intended to deliver mail rather than passengers, though Father had acquired a compartment for her private use.

Her sister’s voyage would commence in just over a week’s time. Much as she had tried to deny it was truly happening, Diana would soon see her sister off to the hired coach taking her to Dover. Her group planned to take supper and stay the night before catching the ferry to Calais.

From there, they would head directly to the medical unit outside the heavily guarded gates of Chamberly.

The danger she would soon face hardly seemed to faze her sister. But when Diana told her she was going to marry, Lillian’s hands dropped to her side and the cloak she’d been clutching tumbled to the worn carpet.

They stood in what had once been their nursery.

Decorative fabrics lined the walls depicting beatific mothers tending to their babies while children toddled about happily, a reminder of a brief period when their young lives had been idyllic.

Outside the window, birds chirped and whistled high in the trees while a stray cat half-hidden behind a nearby hedge chittered in frustration.

In addition to the customary gowns, toiletries, and life’s necessities, Diana had already stowed away a few treasures to bring with her as she began her new life with Albie.

A crystal brooch that had belonged to her maternal grandmother.

A looking glass she had purchased in Philadelphia, adorned with red, white, and blue ribbons.

It was shocking how little she packed, really.

She neither needed nor wanted to bring much with her, primarily since Albion had assured her he would lease a furnished townhouse and happily purchase anything else she might need afterward.

He would have a set of rooms for his personal use and an equally extensive suite for her.

That should have made her lighter, freer.

Instead, she only felt vaguely melancholic that a woman grown should have so little to show for two and twenty years on this earth.

Well, that would change soon enough. Her marriage to Albie would be a grand undertaking. She’d make sure of that. It was a swift decision, to be sure, but one in which she felt confident.

Lillian gnawed at her cuticles, a habit she hadn’t indulged in for some time. “I wasn’t aware a gentleman was courting you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her sister had once divulged even the smallest of details from her courtship with Nigel Halman.

Diana had not shared a single detail about Albie.

Lillian didn’t know of their extraordinary meeting at the Wayfarer’s Respite, for Diana hadn’t found the right words to relay the conversation without making it seem brash and irrational.

“It happened quickly. Lord Albion has proven himself an honorable gentleman and a loyal friend. It is not a traditional sort of arrangement. I confess when he first proposed, I could not accept. However, upon further consideration, I realized it would be a useful partnership. Most sensible.”

“A sudden change of heart? Shouldn’t you take more time to consider this proposal? What is the saying? Marry in haste, repent at leisure?”

Diana understood how impulsive this seemed. She still couldn’t quite believe it was happening herself. Yet she’d no intention of changing course.

“Can’t you wait until I’m back? A late summer or autumn wedding could be lovely.”

She wanted Lil to understand without telling her why she was in a hurry.

Without revealing that she was doing it in part for her sake, to heal her reputation—which Diana herself had been responsible for damaging in the first place—in which case Lillian would do everything in her power to stop Diana.

And her powers of persuasion were no small matter.

“Trust me on this, Lil. My bridegroom is wealthy and well-connected. It will be a fine match, and I wish to make it sooner rather than later.”

Lillian worried her velvet necklet. “You mention nothing of affection.”

“As I told you, we are friends.”

“Friendship hardly seems sufficient. Spend more time with this gentleman before committing.”

“Blazes!” Diana had grown fond of this term, having picked it up from Albie. “Once I set my mind to something, have you ever known me to back down? We are alike in that way.”

“Do you know his family? Does he live in London? Does he plan to call on Father?”

“Albie will certainly do so.”

“Ah! So this scoundrel has a name, after all.”

“He’s not a scoundrel. You sound like Mother after a few glasses of Madeira.”

Lillian’s shoulders relaxed a bit, which made Diana feel better.

“I should invite this Albie to supper. After all, if he is to be my brother by marriage, I want to see him with my own eyes.”

Diana nodded, knowing she should elaborate but unsure where to start.

She supposed she could have begun the story by telling her sister that her fiancé was an orc, but the words never made it to her lips, and the more she talked, the more difficult it became to summon them.

Given how soon Lillian was leaving, Diana doubted they could wrangle a supper together beforehand.

But Lil would want to meet him upon her return.

“And his family?” her sister asked.

“He is from a well-respected family.”

“By the name of?”

Diana turned away, distracting herself with a pearl necklace on the walnut burl dresser. “Higgins. My understanding is that this is an English name his family chose for ease of pronunciation. Albion did not ask Father first because that is not a custom in the Hidden Realm.”

“An orc!” Lillian gasped. “What will Father say?”

“He’ll be happy enough to see me off and married and freed from any responsibility to keep me.”

Lillian straightened her shoulders so that her neck gracefully lengthened. And just like that, she was the wise elder sister once more. “Father cares what the peerage thinks.”

“Of a charming man who is influential in London? Whose brother is the Duke of Barrington? Albie is close to His Royal Highness, no less. He refers to him as Prinny.”

“Prinny?” Lillian scrunched her nose as though she’d smelled something foul.

“I know,” Diana said. “But it is by the Prince Regent’s own request. Can you imagine? I doubt Father will object to our family allying with a cherished friend of His Royal Highness. Marrying into an Orcan family may seem bold, but they are a respectable part of our Society.”

And anyway, she added in her mind alone, while their father might have towered above his daughters, both literally and figuratively, he was no match for Albion in terms of either presence or vivacity.

Albie, Diana mused, was a different sort altogether.

Tobias Stewart would neither intimidate nor vex him.

The matter would soon be decided and proclaimed in the Society pages, and the banns read aloud at their local parish.

All of which should further mentions of her past unsavory association with Nigel Halman.

“I only wish you had told me when you first contemplated this idea. Did you think his provenance would put me off? Do you know of their customs? What to expect after the two of you wed?”

“I’ve a lively curiosity, Lil. I’m sure I shall learn forthwith.”

“Even about matters between men and women?” Lillian grabbed a decorative pillow from the bed and kneaded her hands in it like a nervous kitten.

Learning more about Albion’s proclivities in the bedroom wouldn’t be objectionable. After all, there had been those whispers about his relationship with the widow. Were there additional ladies? Would news of their nuptials set London to weeping?

“As I’ve explained, this shall be a practical arrangement.” Diana flicked a bit of lint from her day gown to avoid meeting her sister’s eyes.

“Love might follow eventually, I suppose. Wasn’t Mother always saying words to that effect regarding marriage?”

Diana cared not one whit what their absent mother said about marriage. “I have learned an Orcan custom: to rename brides at the wedding for a flower. To honor the woman’s beauty.”

“How extraordinary!”

“Albion asked me to take the name Daisy.”

“And you agreed?”

“Why not?” Diana prided herself on being named after a Roman goddess, the great huntress no less. But the more she thought about it, the more she imagined her mother choosing one at random from a book. “Perhaps I should start calling you Lily. That way, we’ll both be flowers.”

At that, her sister managed to smile. “Nonetheless, are you sure you know your mind on this matter? You’re not letting some fanciful notion carry you away?”

Only Lillian could ask this question without rousing her anger, for Diana knew she wanted nothing but the best for her.

“It is a grand undertaking, but hardly comparable to your upcoming voyage to Chamberly in terms of any risks involved.”

Lil bowed her head. “I suppose I cannot criticize you too heartily when I decided to travel to Chamberly without discussing it with you.”

“And so I ask for the same grace. Rest assured. Like you, I embark on this journey willingly.” “It’s not a holiday, Di,” Lil said softly.

“Granted, there is little pleasure in Chamberly these days. But I wish there was a way I could join you. Keep an eye on you.”

“No doubt you would embrace the adventure of it.” Lillian bent to scoop up the riding cloak she had dropped earlier and folded it in her hands, knotting and then unknotting the ends.

“The Sisters will look after me well enough. Though I confess, I am not looking forward to the ferry crossing. Once we dock and are safely on the continent, I shall feel more secure.”

The crossing was the least treacherous part of the journey. Still, Lil had been worried for days about taking sick. And as it was too late—not to mention pointless—to persuade her not to go, Diana simply nodded and said, “Write to me every single day. So that I feel as though I am at your side.”

Lillian laughed softly. “I must post correspondence to your new address, then. Tell me you will remain in London.”

“Women are not allowed at the Albany, where he currently resides, so Albie intends to lease a townhouse until we settle on a permanent situation. Once you return, we will see one another every day.”

“How can I possibly doubt you? I can only hope you find time for me. After all, you shall be a splendid lady. Of the Hidden Realm, no less.”

“We shall visit as often as you please.”

They pressed their foreheads together, as they used to do when young, dreaming of the future.

“As long as this Albion Higgins makes you happy,” Lil said. “I support your decision.”

Diana imagined herself as the mistress of a grand house, accepting Lil’s letters from a tray sparkling with Orcan sapphires.

She‘d wear the finest gowns and partake of the most delicious cuisine from France and Italy. And she would read as much as she pleased and write to politicians at her leisure. Albion’s wealth granted her all of that.

“I shall be marvelously happy,” Diana said, pulling away as Lil placed a soft hand on her cheek. “Overwhelmingly happy. Positively drowning in happiness. I only hope that you find the same. It is difficult to imagine when you insist on voyaging to what is, in effect, a zone of war.”

“Try not to worry too much about me,” Lil told her. “While I’m in Chamberly, I might encounter the Benevolent Phantom himself. If I run into any trouble, he can come to my rescue.”