Page 26 of Taken by the Icy Duke (Marriage Deals #3)

Chapter Twenty-Six

D iana paused in the foyer, bonnet in hand, as the footman swung the door shut behind her. She had just returned from an outing with Alison selecting ribbons and trimmings for a new bonnet in preparation for Lord Crayford’s upcoming dinner.

A swirl of masculine laughter echoed from the drawing room at the corridor’s far end. She recognized Gilbert’s low, controlled chuckle, mingled with Leopold’s unexpectedly bright laugh and Victor’s more booming mirth. The sound was jarringly companionable. Over the last few days, the discord at home had weighed on her, yet at this moment, the men sounded perfectly at ease. A pang of disquiet made her stomach contract.

“Welcome back, Your Grace. Shall I have tea sent up to your chamber?” Hollings asked, stepping forward.

“Not yet, Hollings. Thank you. I shall see if—” She broke off, glancing down the corridor at the closed drawing room door. Laughter rose again, Victor’s voice layered over Leopold’s. She braced herself. “I believe I shall join them for a moment.”

Hollings bowed. “As you wish, Your Grace.”

She handed over her bonnet and gloves, then smoothed down the sleeves of her traveling gown. Nothing to worry about, she told herself. Gilbert is with friends; there is no cause to dread an argument. Yet her heart thumped uncomfortably as she approached the door.

Light spilled into the hall from beneath it. She caught murmurs interspersed with low amusement. Steeling herself, she turned the handle and stepped inside.

Victor had perched himself on a high-backed chair, one leg crossed over the other, swirling a glass of port. Leopold lounged near a side table, his arms folded, while Gilbert stood by the hearth, brandy glass in hand. At the soft click of the door, all three men looked her way.

Gilbert straightened, his brow lifting in a gentle curve. “Diana,” he said in a welcoming tone. “I was not sure when you would return. How was your outing?”

She mustered a polite smile. “It went well,” she replied, turning her gaze momentarily on Victor. “Good day, my lord. I had not realized you would be visiting.”

Victor rose to greet her with an amiable bow.

“Your Grace, I seized the chance to see my old friend while business keeps me in London. And, as fate would have it, Lord Leopold joined us. We have been sampling some new vintage.” He gestured to a decanter. “Care to partake?”

Leopold inclined his head but said nothing. Diana felt his subdued scrutiny land upon her, as though he was trying his best not to intrude.

At least he is being polite.

He had been nothing but civil for days, but she still found it difficult to forgive him.

She forced her lips into a delicate smile. “I am not in the mood for port, but thank you.”

Gilbert examined her face as if searching for any sign of discomfort. “Perhaps you would prefer tea?” he inquired.

“I am all right, truly,” she told them with a shake of her head. She inched further into the drawing room, the crackle of the fire and the tang of liquor both thick in the air. “Alison found a bonnet she liked, so that was a small success.”

Victor grinned. “Shopping adventures. Did you choose anything for yourself, duchess?”

“I only chose to offer opinions,” she said, letting a faint laugh escape. “I have plenty already.” The realization stung more than it should; so many dresses, all purchased at Gilbert’s insistence.

Gilbert gestured to an empty seat near him, concern still etched in the subtle lines of his expression.

“Sit with us, if you wish. We were just discussing a bit of boundary business between me and Camburn.”

Victor added, “indeed, a mild dispute that I shall have sorted by next week. Nothing too harrowing.” He chuckled. “But brandy helps the thinking process, or so we say.”

Leopold’s quiet laughter joined his. Diana noticed that Leopold’s posture seemed less guarded than before, as if he had eased into a calmer, more amiable mood. Perhaps the brandy contributed to that.

She inhaled slowly, settling into the chair Gilbert had indicated. “Boundary lines and brandy aside, I hope it is a pleasant conversation.”

“It is,” Leopold spoke up cautiously. “We have not argued once this evening.” He paused, glancing at Gilbert with a subdued smile. “I might not be an expert at estate matters, but listening in helps me learn.”

Gilbert nodded as something like guarded approval flashed across his features. “We must all begin somewhere.”

Silence stretched for a moment, punctuated only by the crackle of the fire. Diana forced another polite smile.

“I am glad you are all having a fair time.” She folded her hands in her lap. “Leopold, I trust you have found your room comfortable?”

Leopold gave a slight bow of his head. “Yes, thank you. It is more than I deserve…”

He hesitated as if he was trying not to bring up the scandal. Diana felt her anxiety rise once she realized they were doing their utmost to tiptoe around the topic.

Victor cleared his throat, sensing the shift.

“Lady Diana,” he said, mild curiosity in his tone, “I heard your father might soon host a dinner? Perhaps Lord Crayford is entertaining again?”

She blinked, momentarily startled. She had meant to mention it to Gilbert.

“Yes. He extends an invitation to us… end of the week, I believe. Alison reminded me earlier, and asked me to confirm.”

Gilbert arched a brow. “Ahh, so that was the errand?”

“Partly. Alison needed a bonnet, at which time we spoke of Father’s dinner. I planned to tell you, but I came home to find you engrossed in port and brandy.” Her words emerged with a hint more sharpness than she intended, and she quickly schooled her expression. “In any case, Father hopes we can attend.”

Leopold fiddled with the cuff of his sleeve, looking uneasy.

“I suppose I am not invited,” he remarked in an attempt at wry humor. “Lord Crayford likely does not wish to see me.”

Diana folded her hands tightly, unsure how to respond. While he was not wrong, polite manners demanded a more delicate approach.

“I—I do not know if Father included you in the invitation. I can ask, if you wish.”

“If Diana’s father wishes a small gathering, we shall not impose, but let us not trouble ourselves about that tonight,” Gilbert shot Leopold an admonishing glance then shifted his focus to Diana.

Victor, no doubt sensing the undercurrent, forced a cheerful note. “In the meantime, we have enough brandy for four, and a particularly fine vintage your husband has decanted for us.”

Diana gave a polite half-smile, but her attention was captured by Leopold, who studied her with what looked like genuine repentance. She braced herself for him to speak, but he only took a sip of brandy and remained quiet.

Seconds passed in awkward quiet. She decided to break it with safe conversation.

“Did the boundary matter resolve itself, or must you ride out tomorrow?”

Gilbert replied. “Victor and I planned to see it ourselves. I may be gone for part of the day.” He hesitated, then added, “Diana, if you should like to come along, we could arrange a gentler route, though it might be tedious.”

She shook her head, offering another small smile. “No, I have tasks here. But I appreciate the invitation.”

“All right,” he murmured, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.

Victor cleared his throat again, valiantly keeping the conversation afloat. “Leopold was describing a new scheme for stable improvements; some notion of reorganizing the farrier’s schedule. Quite practical, I must say.”

Leopold scratched his neck, as if embarrassed. “I mostly repeated ideas gleaned from old acquaintances. But I would be happy to help if… if Gilbert is open to it.”

Gilbert gave a curt nod. “We can discuss it further. A more consistent approach to the stables would not hurt.”

Diana realized how surreal it felt: the four of them, almost comfortable, yet beneath the surface it remained uneasy.

A footman entered with a small tray and an additional glass, presumably for Diana. She declined with a subtle shake of her head, and the footman withdrew. The men exchanged glances, as though waiting for some sign she might linger.

Diana rose instead, smoothing her skirts. “I am pleased to see you all in good spirits,” she said, mustering some composure. “But, if you will excuse me, I would like to freshen up from the outing. Hollings can send word if you need me.”

Victor set his glass down. “Of course, Duchess. Please do come join us again, if you would like.”

“We would enjoy your company,” Gilbert added, the look in his eyes conveying sincerity.

“Perhaps, let us see. I am indeed tired.” She inclined her head to Leopold. “Lord Leopold.” Then she nodded politely to Victor and turned to go.

Once in the corridor, she let out a long breath. The oppressive warmth in the drawing room was replaced by the cooler air in the house’s wide hall. She headed upstairs, a swirl of conflicting emotions pounding in her head.

The men looked so comfortable and… natural together.

She once again felt like an outsider in her own home; a bitter reminder of her first few weeks after marrying Gilbert.

Halfway to her chamber, she spotted Ruth pulling linens from a closet. The maid paused upon seeing Diana’s troubled face.

“Your Grace?” she asked. “You have returned earlier than expected from your errands. Shall I bring tea or help you dress?”

Diana hesitated, then quietly said, “Ruth, I… I might need a moment. Could you come in and close the door behind us?”

Ruth’s eyes widened, but she nodded. “Of course, Your Grace.”

Once inside Diana’s bedchamber, Ruth set the linens aside, turning to her mistress with genuine concern.

“Is everything all right, my lady?” she asked gently.

Diana walked to the window, gazing at the modest view of the courtyard below, where a groom led a horse across the gravel.

“Leopold is settling in more comfortably than I anticipated,” she said in a muted tone. “He, Gilbert and Lord Camburn were laughing together just now. I cannot blame them, they are all close still. And I…” She pressed her fingertips to her temple. “I just cannot say I feel at ease with him here.”

“I see,” Ruth agreed politely. “You must still carry memories of the scandal, I suppose.”

“Yes,” Diana nodded slowly. “He has apologized, and seems genuinely remorseful. But I simply cannot banish the hurt. And I cannot help wondering if his presence is straining everything between me and Gilbert.”

“His Grace is a fair man,” Ruth reminded her. “He protects you, does he not? He would not let Lord Leopold bring new troubles.”

A small, pained laugh escaped Diana. “Perhaps. But I know I am not ready to forgive him. Thank you, Ruth.” She forced a steadier tone. “I think I just need to gather my thoughts, and perhaps rest a while.”

Ruth dipped a quick curtsy. “Let me help you dress, then I shall leave you to rest.”

Diana exhaled, letting her resentment furl and unfurl in her chest. Her mind spun with visions of Leopold’s integration, Gilbert’s courtesy, and her own uncertainty. Even Victor’s presence—a figure of easy camaraderie—could not dissolve her discomfort.

Pressing her palms against the smooth wood, she whispered more to herself than Ruth, “I will not be shut out of my own home.”

Ruth reached into Diana’s wardrobe but stalled for a moment before asking, “The lilac gown, then?”

“Yes,” Diana said assuredly. The conviction in her voice steadied her. She might feel unsettled, but she refused to vanish into meek silence each time Leopold disrupted her day. The vow provided her with a small measure of strength.

Once dressed she ventured downstairs, determined not to hide away. As she drew closer to the drawing room, the conversation became clearer, and she thought she heard Victor mention her name.

“…my advice did seem to work, it appears,” Victor said.

“What do you mean?” Diana heard Gilbert ask.

“Your duchess has very much come into her own with her wardrobe. She is the talk of the ton with her impeccable fashion sense,” Victor continued.

Diana paused before she reached the open door, obscured by the corner of the frame. A footman passed her and she gave him a signal not to betray her presence.

“It is true,” Leopold added. “I have heard in countless circles of Lady Diana’s improvement. Many men at White’s are perhaps even grumbling how their ladies are begging for the same generosity you have bestowed upon her.”

“It is no less than I should be doing,” Gilbert mused.

Diana peered around the edge of the door to get a glimpse of the men’s expressions, but she only caught a view of Gilbert’s back.

“Yes, but the state of her clothes before were barely fitting a baron’s daughter, let alone a duchess,” Victor argued. “You have definitely attired her according to her station.”

“She did look quite fetching in her outfit today,” Leopold noted politely, almost reserved in his compliment.

“Come now, you must have noticed how much she improved,” Victor said to Gilbert, his voice impatient. “It certainly helped to quell some of the scathing gossip about her.”

“Do not speak of my wife so,” Gilbert warned.

Diana leaned back against the wall as reality sunk in. Gilbert had been showering her with gifts, or so she thought. Now, she realized those gifts were not tokens of affection, but rather necessary replacements to her wardrobe. Her chest tightened as her world view suddenly shifted. She had thought Gilbert was being kind, generous and doting, but in reality he had taken advice from Victor, as they had all found her lacking.

Tears welled in her eyes. She could not join them now, not after overhearing this revelation. Turning back toward the stairs, she headed up to her room again, shame and embarrassment gripping hold of her. Just as she reached her chamber doors, the tears began to stream down her face.

Thankfully, Ruth had already left. Diana fell onto her bed, sobbing into her pillows. She felt foolish, wondering why overhearing the conversation troubled her so. Of course, her marriage to Gilbert was just an arrangement, it always had been. She had been a fool to let herself believe that Gilbert was gaining affection for her. He only wanted to show a united front to the ton by having her dress as any duchess would.