Page 59 of Taken By the Icy Duke

Gilbert rose from his chair and walked over to the window. “Diana is not petty; she will not wish you turned away. But keep clear of fresh scandals, and help where you can. When you inherit one day, you had better know how to manage more than your amusements.”

Leopold offered a faint, earnest smile. “I promise. And… thank you. For letting me remain, and for not shutting the door on me as I had feared you might.”

Gilbert paused, then gestured to the breakfast tray. “Have you eaten? If not, take something. I have lost my appetite in any event.” His tone was dismissive but not hostile. “But if you hear more of these twisted rumors, I want to know who is behind them. The nonsense you have gathered does not match the likes of anything I have heard in London.”

Leopold nodded, relief mingling with determination. “I will ask around. Someone is fueling this gossip. I will see what I can learn.”

Gilbert muttered a terse thanks and turned toward the window.

“Good. Let that be your first responsible act; sorting out who dares spread these lies. I have no desire for more talk of curses or forced marriages.”

Leopold dipped his head in acknowledgment, then moved to the door. “Understood. I will not let you down this time.” With that, he took his leave and departed the study.

Gilbert remained silent, gazing out at the hedges swaying in the gentle morning breeze. He exhaled when he heard the door close, his mind digesting Leopold’s words. For all their friction, there was a wary hope in knowing his brother had returned with genuine remorse.

But the rumors Leopold mentioned left a bitter taste, and an uneasy thought gnawed at him:

Who would want to paint my marriage as a misery?

He glanced at the tray again, but his appetite was still absent. Whatever trials lay ahead, Gilbert only knew he needed to safeguard Diana from the spiteful whispers that once drove her to near ruin, and ensure his brother’s reformed intentions did not prove to be fleeting.

Diana stepped into the dining room, her heart compressing when she saw Leopold seated alongside Gilbert. A single place setting awaited her at the long table, which felt far too expansive for only three people. She summoned a poised smile, though her stomach knotted.

“Good evening,” she managed, inclining her head. “I trust I have not kept you waiting long?”

Gilbert immediately stood, his expression protective. “You are just in time. We have only just begun.” He gestured to the chair across from Leopold, then resumed his seat with a subtle frown.

Leopold rose more slowly, bowing to the duchess. Diana struggled to hold his gaze. Despite Leopold having been home for a few days, Diana tried her best to avoid him. She barely knew him, but her first impression was that he was a drunken fool; a buffoon that could have ruined her life. She felt that she finally had a tentative hold on happiness, and any interaction with him risked losing it.

“Your Grace,” Leopold said quietly, a contrite note in his voice. “I hope the day finds you well.”

She nodded briefly, aware of Gilbert’s eyes flicking between them. He also seemed wary and on edge, even though they had gone through their usual routines despite Leopold’s presence.

“As well as can be expected,” she replied, carefully unfolding her napkin. The hush that fell felt as thick as wool, and when a footman approached with the first course, no one spoke.

At length, Leopold ventured, “It is a fine evening. The sunsets here are still the best I recall.”

Diana forced a polite smile and accepted the dish the servant offered. “Yes,” she said in clipped syllables, “the house offers exceptional views to the west.”

She glanced at Gilbert, hoping he might steer the conversation, but he only lifted his glass of wine to his lips without meeting her gaze.

A few minutes ticked by, the room silent except for the scrape of utensils on porcelain. Finally, Leopold mustered the courage to speak again.

“Your Grace,” he said sheepishly, “I want to apologize for my part in the debacle. My recklessness put you in a terrible position.”

She stiffened, her fork hovering above her plate. “I appreciate the sentiment. However, the past cannot be undone.”

Leopold lowered his head. Despite appearing genuinely contrite, Diana felt that his apology stemmed only from a desire to relieve the awkwardness between them.

“True. But perhaps I can now make amends. If there is anything I can do…” he continued.

Gilbert set his glass down with a controlled clink. “Leopold, this is not the time?—”

“No,” Diana interrupted softly, meeting Leopold’s earnest gaze across the table. “Let him speak.” She swallowed, forcing herself to remain calm. “What do you wish me to say? That I forgive you? Perhaps I do, in a sense, but it does not make me more comfortable to have you here.”

“I know,” he murmured regretfully. “I see how you would rather avoid me, and I do not blame you. Yet if I left now, I would remain the coward who ran away. I would rather stay and show you I am no longer the same fool you once knew.”

Gilbert glanced from Diana to Leopold and back, apprehension etched in his brow. “I told him he may remain,” he said, trying to catch Diana’s eye. “But if it burdens you…”

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