Page 48 of The Duke and the Hellion Bride

“I think I will go,” Diana said predictably. She then looked at Magnus, raising an eyebrow. “That is, of course, if my husband does not object?”

“Not even a little,” he said stiffly.

“Wonderful,” his grandmother said, looking mighty pleased with herself. “I was hoping you would say as much, for now my plans tomorrow will not go to waste.”

“Plans tomorrow?” Magnus’ stomach twisted, sensing a new scheme.

“Shopping, dear,” his grandmother said with a satisfied smile and a triumphant look in her eyes. “If Her Grace is to attend the Truscott Ball, her first outing as a duchess, she ought to look her best. And I intend to ensure the fact. Your Grace...” She shifted forward in her chair, looking directly at Diana and cutting Magnus out entirely. “Will you join me on a trip into London tomorrow so we might purchase a new gown for the evening.”

“I would love that,” Diana said with a little too much excitement. “Of course...” She then looked at Magnus, a smirk because she knew the answer to her coming question. “If my husband does not mind?”

Magnus suppressed a groan. Diana going to the ball without him was one thing, but spending a day alone with his grandmother was another entirely. He knew his grandmother well enough to know that this was about more than shopping, that she wanted to size Diana up and see what she was made of. Further to that point, she would want to ensure that Diana properly knew the man whom she had married.

It would be a day of gossip and personal revelations and all of Magnus’ efforts to conceal his past would be for nothing. Maybe it would have been best if he’d just agreed to going to this ball in the first place?

“I welcome it,” he said with a forced smile. “It will be good for the two of you to better know one another.”

“I could not agree more,” his grandmother said.

ChapterSeventeen

The 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 theton.

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?”

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