Page 17 of The Duke and the Hellion Bride (Duchesses of Convenience #7)

Chapter Seventeen

T he Dowager Duchess collected Diana the following morning, as promised. It took them over an hour to travel into the city, a ride that was pleasant while also unremarkable. They kept the conversation civil and surface level, filtering between musings on the weather and books they had read and random bits of gossip from about the ton .

One notable exception to this was the Dowager Duchess’ insistence that Diana address her by her first name, which in Diana’s eyes was a huge deal.

“We are family now, dear,” she said. “Calling me anything other than Ophelia is just so impersonal, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I could not have said it better myself...” She hesitated. “Ophelia.” It sounded strange to say but the satisfied smile that Ophelia offered in return solidified the experience as the right one.

It wasn’t until they arrived at the seamstress and Diana began to sample various cotton and silk swatches that the conversation turned toward what Diana had been expecting and dreading in equal measure. She was under no false illusions as to why Ophelia was so insistent on the two spending the day together, and the proof of this finally became realized.

“So, you and Magnus,” Ophelia began pleasantly. She was sitting on a stool in the store’s center, one used primarily for taking measurements when the time came. “Now that we are alone, tell me the truth of it. How goes the marriage?”

Even expecting it as she was, Diana was caught by surprise.

She pretended not to be, feigning an over-interest in a buttercream-colored silk that allowed her to keep her back to the dowager.

“It is as we said,” she explained vaguely. “The marriage has been pleasant.”

“I thought you described it as wonderful.”

Diana cursed herself silently, still focused on the swatch. “Yes, that too. It has not even been a full week yet, but so far, I dare say it is going as well as I could have hoped.”

Ophelia said nothing to that, and Diana breathed a sigh of relief as she continued about the store. With her light brown hair and deeper brown eyes and milky skin, green was a color that she wore well, so she found herself by a wall of various green colors and shades and materials. Growing up with four older sisters and a mother who believed that how one dressed was a statement of utmost importance, she was used to the process of selecting fabrics and having dresses made for her, but her concentration was preoccupied, and she found it impossible to focus.

“I take it that the two of you speak little then,” Ophelia said suddenly.

Diana turned about without thinking. “What do you mean?”

Ophelia smirked. “If you did, I doubt you would describe the marriage as wonderful. Unless you take pleasure in the misery trodden, like caring for a wounded pup.” She shrugged. “Some women do.”

“I...” Diana’s frown deepened. “I do not know about any of that.”

“Ah...” Ophelia’s eyes flashed understanding. “Then it is the other side of the coin. My grandson has chosen to give you nothing, creating a facade of ease which you have happily bought into.” She cocked an eyebrow at Diana. “Unless I am missing something.”

Diana felt her face turn red because Ophelia had hit the nail right on the head. She spun back, pretending to find interest in a forest-green silk. “It is as I said... we are... we are perfectly happy.”

Ophelia tittered. “I know my grandson, Diana. Better than you, I would wager. And while I love the man to death and would kill for him was I put up to, I am only too aware of how closed off he can be. Why else do you think he has remained single all this time?”

Diana could see where this was going. Oh, how she could. The question was, did she wish for it?

Indeed, so far in this marriage, Magnus had been as closed off as a locked chest, and just as difficult to open. Diana knew next to nothing about the man’s past, who he was, what he wanted. And the few times she had tried to breech these guarded secrets, he had firmly pushed her away.

But he had also promised to try harder. He had admitted fault, a huge step forward which Diana was eager to exploit. A few more days and she was certain she would be able to coax out some answers from him, pry him apart at the edges, make him understand that she was not his enemy, and sharing was not only healthy but necessary.

However... she then remembered where she was and the reason for it. The upcoming ball, one which Magnus would not be attending. If he truly meant to try harder, why had he denounced the possibility of joining her? Was he all talk and no action? Had he tricked her once again?

Her ears began to burn and her curiosity began to tingle...

“I don’t not wish to gossip about my husband,” she said in half-defense.

“Nor do I,” Ophelia agreed. “But there are some things a wife should know about her husband. Not to use against him, of course. That is not why I ask these things. I only want the best for the two of you, and I believe that you are the same.” She paused and Diana turned around, saw Ophelia eyeing her, and nodded. “If you wish for this marriage to work, these first few weeks are imperative. How can you grow close if he keeps you at arm's length?”

It was as if she was reading Diana’s mind.

The swatches of fabric forgotten, Diana found herself crossing the store to where Ophelia sat. She wore a resigned expression, as if she had no desire to speak of what she was about to.

“Is there anything imperative that I must know?” Diana asked. “For... for the sake of our marriage.”

“You are no doubt wondering why Magnus is so hard on the girls – why he is so strict when it comes to their upbringing? An uncle who wishes the best for his nieces is one thing, but my guess is that he treats their raising as a mandate, of sorts.”

“He is rather firm with them,” Diana agreed. “And the truth is, when he asked for my hand in marriage, they were his primary concern.”

“How much do you know of his brother?” Ophelia asked.

“Not as much as I would like,” Diana admitted. “I know that he died not long ago, but apart from that...”

“I am afraid it goes back much further than that,” Ophelia sighed with regret. “It might surprise you to hear, but when Magnus was born, he was a weak, sickly thing. Stricken by an ailment which even to this day I do not know the name, such that the first ten years of his life saw him confined entirely to his bed.”

“Oh my.”

“He grew out of the ailment, clearly,” Ophelia continued. “And by the time he reached his teens he was as strong and robust as you now know him to be. Alas, those early years never quite left him, the scars they have left riddled his confidence so much that they will be there forever. Couple this with a mother who died of the pox when he was but eight and a father who was an abusive alcoholic and I doubt there are many who had a harder upbringing than he did.”

“And his brother?” Diana asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“He was perfectly healthy, and he worshipped Magnus. Their father, however...” She shook her head. “The influence he left meant that Magnus never wished to be a duke, although I believe deep down he didn’t think himself strong enough. It was for that reason that when he was older enough, he left for the Americas. He claimed it was to prove himself capable and worthy, but I knew...” Another shake of the head. “I knew the idea of becoming a duke, being saddled with the responsibility that led his father to the drink, terrified him.”

“Victor became the duke instead?” The pieces started to fall into place for Diana, but still, she could not see the bigger picture.

“Regrettably so,” Ophelia said. “As with their father, Victor took to drinking, a little too well.” She pursed her lips. “The years hit him harder than they should have, he became terribly sick, and that was when I reached out to Magnus to return. Which he did do, but by then it was too late. The damage was done and within a year of his return, Victor died.”

“Oh no...”

“Magnus blames himself for Victor’s death,” she said. “He blames his past. He blames that he ran. He blames that he didn’t do enough when he returned. He considered the entirety of it to be his fault, as if he was too weak to stop it. For that reason, he has taken the raising of Josephine and Adeline as a personal challenge, as if doing right by them will somehow absolve him of this guilt.”

“Surely, he must know it is not his fault?” Diana said. “If anything, it is his father’s. Although even then I hesitate...” She clicked her tongue. “In my experience, some tragedies are simply unavoidable.”

“Oh, I agree. My point in telling you all of this is that Magnus is special. Hard at times. Closed-off, as you no doubt understand. But he does not do it out of spite of disinterest, and I ask that the next time you find him pulling away...” She smiled softly. “Know that the very fact he has not turned tail and ran entirely is because he does care for you. I know that he does.”

The tale was heart wrenching but in that final plea, Diana felt herself grow warm. Knowing what she now knew of Magnus, the fact that he was willing at all to try and open to her spoke volumes about how he must feel.

She did feel a tad guilty, however. First, for pushing him as she had. Second, for this conversation right now. It was a betrayal, she realized, going behind his back and learning what, in hindsight, was his secret to share. She shuddered to think what he would say if he found out, and she resolved to not use it against him.

“Thank you,” she said to Ophelia. “All of this is...” She exhaled and offered a grateful smile. “It is revealing, but the sense it makes explains quite a bit.”

“I am glad,” Ophelia said. “I only want the best for the two of you. A marriage that will last a lifetime and hopefully will produce a few little offspring of your own.”

“Yes, well... hopefully.” Diana’s chest tightened. The second time now the mention of heirs had been brought to her. It still felt too soon to discuss such a thing with Magnus, but now that she understood what she was dealing with, perhaps it wasn’t so far away as she thought?”

“Now...” Ophelia clapped her hands together. “Enough melodrama for the day, don’t you think? I saw you looking at wall of green. See anything you like?”

“Oh, yes...” Diana turned back. “Only about a dozen.”

Ophelia laughed. “Let us call for some help and see which one’s fit best. The gown you must wear to the Truscott Ball needs to turn heads and drop jaws. And most of all, it needs to make my grandson understand how lucky he is.”

“But he will not be joining me,” Diana said.

To that, Ophelia smiled coyly. “He says he will not, but we shall see. As I said, I know my grandson. Even better than he knows himself.”