Page 49 of The Duke of Ruin
That was one word to describe it. Many others crowded Diana’s mind: desperate, exciting, disastrous, astonishing to name just a few. Life changing was perhaps the best.
“Just a moment.” Diana was rather famished, so she wolfed down a cake in a manner she never would have done at home. Taking a sip of tea, she set her cup down and began to speak.
“As you know I was engaged to the Duke of Kilve.”
“Yes. But you arrived with the Duke of Romsey.” Verity flinched and held up her hand. “My apologies. I did say I wouldn’t interrupt.”
Diana smiled. “You said you’d try. I know better.” People found the two of them reserved or perhaps even aloof in Diana’s case, but together, they were animated and talkative, as if they couldn’t possibly say everything they wanted to. Perhaps they saved it up for when they saw each other, despite the fact that they corresponded regularly. It certainly felt like that to Diana. With her cousin, she could be absolutely herself, in a way she couldn’t with anyone else.
Verity laughed softly, her eyes glowing with warmth. “It’s sogoodto have you here.”
“It’s good to be here.” And it was. Oh, how she wished that staying here—away from her parents, away from the pressures they placed upon her, away from Society, away from scandal—was a choice she could make.
“So tell me about Romsey.” Verity picked up another cake and winked at Diana. “If I keep eating, I can’t talk.”
“The story is more than just Romsey,” Diana answered. But he was a central part of it. Without him, things would have gone very differently. He’d promised Kilve he would look after Diana and protect her from scandal to the best of his ability. She’d believed in his promise, but now, after what had happened in Brereton, scandal would find them.
Diana worked to start back at the beginning. “The Duke of Kilve is in love with someone else and is going to marry her instead.”
Verity’s jaw dropped. “What? The scoundrel!”
“Try not to blame him—it was my idea to marry, not his. And I believe I caught him at a rather vulnerable time.”
Twisting her lips into an unsatisfied grimace, Verity grunted softly. “I will still blame him. A little.” She took a breath. “So how did Romsey become involved?”
“They are friends, and he delivered the news to me.”
“Kilve didn’t even have the grace to face you himself?”
“Apparently, Lady Pendleton—the woman he’s to marry—had an accident, and he was anxious to reach her. And before you say anything against her, don’t. I’ve met her, and I actually like her very much.” Truly, Diana wanted them to be happy. They certainly deserved to be. “Looking back, it seems obvious to me now that she and Kilve were in love. And they have been for quite some time. In truth, it’s a rather sad story.”
Verity shook her head. “I’ll trust you—perhaps you can tell me the details another time, if you wish. So Romsey took on the unenviable task of messenger.”
“Yes, but also savior. He offered to help me in any manner I required, in order to mitigate the scandal.”
Verity’s eyes narrowed. “And why did he do this?” Like Diana, she’d no reason to trust a man. Her father and Diana’s were brothers and very alike. Their example hadn’t exactly recommended the males of their species. Furthermore, Verity had married a cold autocrat who saw her as little more than a broodmare.
Simon was, however, different. “Because he possesses a kind heart.” And was perhaps looking for absolution.
“I should say so,” Verity murmured. “He possessed no ulterior motive whatsoever?”
“Not that I can tell.” Diana shook her head firmly, certain of him—at least about this. “No.”
“Remarkable. However did you end up here?”
“My choices were few,” Diana said. “I could do nothing and suffer Father’s wrath.”
Verity winced. “You thought running off with Romsey would help you avoid his anger?”
“No, but it gave me time to think about what to do. Romsey suggested I could disappear, that I could start my life over in some village using a different name.”
“An intriguing idea, but you’d have to turn your back on who you are. We wouldn’t be able to see each other.”
“Perhaps not right away. But after my father gave up looking for me, I could find my way to Blackburn and we—”
“If you think my father or your father wouldn’t hear of that, you’re deluding yourself.” Verity’s tone had gone cold, making Diana shiver. She was, terrifyingly, correct.
“I know,” Diana said softly. “It was sophistry.”
