Page 98 of Her Lion of a Duke
“Right then,” he said briskly. “Diana, my dear girl. Congratulations are in order.”
Diana blinked. Her teacup hovered halfway to her lips. “Congratulations, Papa?”
“You are to be married!” Lady Brandon announced, her voice bright with satisfaction. “To His Grace, the Duke of Storme. Is that not the most wonderful news?”
The teacup slipped from Diana’s fingers, hitting the saucer with a sharp crack. Around the table, her sisters painted a tableau of shock: Jane’s face went pale as she held her bread frozen halfway to her mouth. Marian’s fork clattered against her plate, and Lydia closed her eyes for one long, telling moment.
“Married?” Diana’s voice emerged as barely more than a whisper. “But I… that is to say… we only met once! At Jane’s ball. We danced, but surely that hardly constitutes–”
“On the contrary,” Lady Brandon replied with evident satisfaction. “His Grace was quite taken with you that evening. The arrangement was concluded swiftly thereafter. The Duke’s representative approached your father with a most advantageous proposal, specifically requesting your hand.”
“Advantageous,” Diana echoed. The word felt strange on her tongue. She looked around at her sister’s faces, searching for some sign that this was just some elaborate jest.
Jane found her voice first, sharp with protective indignation. “Surely there has been some mistake, Mama. Diana is only twenty, and one dance is hardly–”
“Diana has had quite enough exposure to society,” Lady Brandon cut in smoothly. “At twenty, she is certainly of age to marry advantageously. The Duke of Storme is one of the most eligible men in England. This is precisely the sort of match that secures a family’s position for generations.”
“And what of love? What of courting?” Marian asked quietly. “Surely Diana should have some affection for the gentleman she’s to marry?”
Lord Brandon shifted uncomfortably. “Love is a luxury, my dear. Compatibility and mutual respect are far more reliablefoundations for a marriage. His Grace appears to be a man of honor and substantial means. Diana will want for nothing.”
Diana felt as though she was drowning in honey. Every part of this conversation was slick, slow, and impossible to navigate. “When?” she managed. “When is this to… when would the wedding take place?”
“Soon,” Lady Brandon said with satisfaction. “His Grace is most eager to conclude the arrangements. You will likely be leaving for Scotland within a few months.”
“Scotland?” she squeaked. Diana had never been further from London than Richmond Park.
“Storme Castle is His Grace’s primary residence,” her father explained. “You’ll be a Duchess, Diana. Do you understand what that means for this family?”
She did understand, distantly. Her sisters’ marriages had elevated the Brandon family’s standing considerably. Diana had always known she would be expected to marry well, but she had imagined it would happen naturally – a courtship stretched out over garden parties and balls and shy conversations over tea.
“I see,” she said softly, folding her trembling hands in her lap. “And His Grace… what is he like?”
“Distinguished.” Lady Brandon said promptly. “Well-respected, though he keeps somewhat to himself. A military man – served in the Navy with honor. Inherited the Dukedom five years ago following a tragic accident. And he is also quite handsome.”
“He’s Scottish.” Lord Brandon added, as though this was merely another qualification.
Jane leaned forward. Her eyes flashed. “Has he expressed any particular desire to marry Diana specifically, or would any eligible young lady have sufficed?”
“Jane!” Lady Brandon’s voice carried warning. “His Grace’s representatives were very specific. They sought a young lady of good breeding, pleasant disposition and appropriate accomplishments. Diana fits those requirements admirably.”
Pleasant disposition.Bitter laughter caught in Diana’s throat. She supposed those terms described her habitual quietness and tendency to fade into backgrounds at social gatherings. After all, where her sisters commanded attention, Diana had always been the one who listened and observed from ballroom edges.
“When will I meet him again?” she asked, surprised with how steady her voice sounded.
“Soon. His Grace will be arriving in London within the week to finalize the arrangements. There will be a small engagement dinner. We want to present you in the best possible light.”
Lydia spoke for the first time. Her voice was gentle but concerned. “Diana, dearest, how do you feel about all this?”
All eyes turned to her, and Diana felt pinned – like a beautiful butterfly to a collector’s board. Howdidshe feel? Terrified, certainly. Overwhelmed by marrying a complete stranger and moving to Scotland. But beneath the fear was a strange, numb acceptance.
“I… I’m honored, of course,” she said carefully. “It is a very advantageous match.”
Jane’s eyes narrowed with the particular look that meant she was reading between diplomatic lines. “But what doyouwant,Diana? Not what’s advantageous or proper or expected… but what do you actually want?”
The question hung heavily in the air. Diana stared at her hands, trying to formulate an answer that would satisfy her twin’s fierce protectiveness without causing a scene.
“I want to do my duty to the family,” she said finally. The words were like stones in her mouth. “And I trust that Mama and Papa have my best interests at heart.”
