Page 44 of An Earl Unmasked
Minerva smiled. “You marrying Lord Chestwick would make me very happy.”
“But to marry before you seems wrong.”
“Not when you will be marrying the gentleman fate intended for you.”
“You have spent too much time with Mama.”
Minerva touched the back of her hand to her forehead. “Mayhap. But regardless, Isadora is never wrong about these things. But you have to choose for yourself.”
“Choose?”
“Yes, regardless of how things appear, you have the power to choose your future for yourself.” Minerva squeezed her hand. “Choose—happiness, Diana.”
Did she really have the power to choose? Would choosing Chestwick result in happiness?
Chapter Twenty-Five
The deep rumbleof male voices was punctuated with the pounding of booted footsteps carried down the hallway. Only the Malburys were capable of causing such a commotion to his normally tranquil existence. A red-faced Kent stormed into Randal’s study, accompanied by a very serious, grim-looking Greg.
Randal stood and buttoned his waistcoat that Cartwright had insisted gentlemen wear even in leisure at home. “Kent. Greg. What brings you to Chestwick Hall?”
Both brothers sank into the chairs on the opposite side of Randal’s desk and crossed their arms, and stared at him until he, too, sat. Randal rested his forearms on the wood and clasped his hands together and surveyed his guests’ appearance. From their rumpled clothing to the dark circles under their eyes, it appeared as if neither had slept before arriving.
Greg let out a long sigh. “We have come to discuss our sister’s future.”
Dealing with the Malburys required patience that Randal no longer had. “Which sister would you be referring to—Lady Minerva? Lady Isadora or Lady Diana?”
“Diana, of course.” Kent ran his fingers and thumb along his jawline until they met at his chin. “Unless you have also managed to compromise our other sisters—in which case you may choose which one you shall marry.”
“Ignore my brother, he hasn’t slept. None of us have had sleep in days.” Greg unraveled his arms and leaned forward with his elbows settled upon his knees. “We are here to settle the matter of you taking advantage of our sister.”
Randal, too, was sleep-deprived. He switched his gaze from Greg to Kent. “Out!”
Neither man flinched nor even moved a muscle to obey his command.
Kent rose and stood behind his chair, placing even more distance between himself and Randal. “Diana confessed that the two of you had shared a kiss…she would neither confirm or deny if you had taken other liberties.” Kent’s fingers pressed tightly against the wood until the tips went white. “Our sisters claim that it unfair of me to demand you do the honorable thing and offer for Diana if I am incapable of doing the same.”
Kent’s emphasis on sisters, as in multiple, not in the singular sense, meant nothing was kept secret amongst the Malbury siblings. A weird sensation of longing mixed with anger settled in Randal’s heart. How could Diana have shared their private moments with her brothers and sisters? Simultaneously, it would have been rather nice to have someone to confide in or assist with muddling through a week of roiling emotions and volleying thoughts. Randal stood and walked over to the sideboard. He needed a drink. They all needed a drink.
The French brandy he had smuggled home would help. He poured the amber liquid into three tumblers. Picking up the glasses, he offered them to his guests.
Kent met Randal eye-to-eye, and with a nod, accepted the offered beverage. “I find myself in a conundrum. I have no intention of relinquishing my bachelorhood, yet I cannot simply ignore the facts.”
Interesting that Kent hadn’t simply dismissed his sisters’ arguments. Randal’s ears rang, picturing the Malbury siblings ensconced in a room debating the issue. He brought his glass to his mouth. Randal didn’t regret the kisses he stole. And even after Diana’s rejection, he still longed to have her lips against his. Randal lowered his drink and asked, “What are Diana’s wishes?”
Greg stared down at his glass. He swirled the liquid around and around. “Our sister did not share with us her preferences.” He tilted his glass in Randal’s direction. “Do you intend to seek out Diana’s hand in marriage?”
“I’ll admit, during her stay, there were moments when I could have replied in the affirmative. However, it matters naught what my intentions are. Diana made it abundantly clear that she had no intentions of marrying before either of her sisters and that she had no interest in becoming the next Countess of Chestwick.”
“I beg to disagree. Diana has not been herself since leaving Chestwick Hall.” Greg frowned into his empty glass. “It is as if Malbury Manor is no longer home to her.”
Had Diana been as miserable as he during their time apart?
Randal noted Kent’s tumbler remained untouched as his guest paced. “Although Diana remained encamped in the drawing room with Mama and Minerva rather than wandering off.”
Greg traded glasses with his brother. “True. She did ignore every opportunity to venture over here, which is highly unusual.” Greg sipped rather than gulped down the contents this time. “Leaving a mystery unsolved is rather unlike Diana. Patience is not her strong suit.”
“Mayhap she is merely no longer interested,” Randal repeated.
