Page 52 of The Duke of Ruin
“I thought he...” Simon let his voice trail off rather than bring up any unpleasantness.
“I’ve told Beau that his father will likely never come home, but he likes to imagine that he went off to war and is protecting us.” There was a sad lilt to her tone.
“I’m sorry for…you.” He’d been about to say “your loss,” but if the duke was merely missing, even for such a long time, perhaps he would return. It wasn’t the same as Simon’s loss. Maybe it was worse—the not knowing. “That must be difficult. To not know what happened.”
“Somewhat.” She lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “He’s been gone a long time now. Sometimes I wonder if I even remember him. We were married for only a few months before he disappeared—just long enough for…Beau.”
Simon understood. He and Miriam had been wed long enough to make their baby. But not to see her into the world. His throat burned for a moment as he nodded slightly and averted his gaze.
The duchess turned toward a sideboard on the wall opposite the fireplace. “Would you like to have a drink with me?”
“No, thank you. I don’t drink spirits.”
Her eyes widened briefly. “My husband drank to excess. We may not have been together long, but that was one of the things I recall quite clearly.”
Simon could see shehadn’tloved her husband. Or so it seemed based on the derision in her tone. But perhaps it was something else.
“Is there a reason you don’t drink?” She quickly waved a hand. “Ignore my impertinence. I’m afraid I’m rather sheltered here at Beaumont Tower. Sometimes I think my social abilities have faltered.”
“I used to drink to excess.” For some reason, the words fell from his mouth unplanned. “Then my wife tumbled down the stairs, and I’ve no recollection of what happened, just that I was there, cradling her at the bottom of the steps and begging God to give her back to me. I haven’t had a drink since.”
Her forehead creased, and her brown eyes warmed with sympathy. “That can’t have been easy.”
“On occasion, it can be difficult to find an alternate beverage,” he said drily, knowing that wasn’t what she’d meant but wanting to bring a lighter tone.
“I’ll ensure you have whatever you desire while you’re here.”
He appreciated her consideration. “I regret missing dinner and, presumably, the discussion of what Diana wants to do next.”
The duchess gave a slight nod. “Kirwin said the footman wasn’t able to wake you. I’m sure you were exhausted. Diana and I had a small, informal dinner in her chamber. She’s already asleep.”
Damn, there went his hope for seeing her this evening. He couldn’t be sure what Diana had told her cousin, and he didn’t want to reveal anything she wished to keep secret. So he said nothing.
“She hasn’t entirely decided what to do next,” the duchess said. “But she’s going to have to make a decision in the morning because she’s running out of time.”
He had to assume she knew the story of what had happened in Brereton, then. “Because the rumor that we eloped will get out.” Simon didn’t mask his bitterness. If only they hadn’t been seen by Lady Dunford-Whaley.
“Eloped?”
Damn, perhaps she hadn’t known the story. But he couldn’t think of a way to hide it from her now. Anyway, it would soon be common knowledge. “We were recognized in Brereton. I told them we were on our way to Gretna Green and asked the gentleman to keep things quiet for a bit—to buy us some time to get here.”
“Smart. But it’s more than that, I’m afraid.” She winced. “Her father could be here in a few days.”
Damn.“She seems terrified of him.” It sounded like hyperbole, but it wasn’t. From their first discussion in Green Park, she’d been clear that her father’s anger drove every decision she made.
“She has every right to be. He and my father are horrid men.” She said this with an even tone, as if she were remarking on the weather.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He’d loved his father very much. And his mother, but then she’d made things difficult since Father had died. A thought occurred to him, one that had plagued him from time to time whenever Diana mentioned her father. “They didn’t…hurt you, did they?”
“Not physically. Well, that’s not precisely true.” She shook her head. “It’s not my place to tell. My father is maybe not quite as cruel as my uncle. But cruelty is their currency, make no mistake. If he finds Diana here, I worry what he will do.”
Simon’s muscles tensed. “I won’t allow him to do anything.”
The duchess’s face softened. “I was hoping you’d say that. I’m quite concerned about her plan to change her identity. I honestly don’t know what she was thinking. She is who she is, and I don’t think she’d like to be alone without support, regardless of how strongly she yearns for independence.”
“Those aren’t really the same things, though, are they? She could have independence and still have people to support her.”
“You’re quite right. I’ve managed to find that here, managing things in my husband’s absence. But that’s not what Diana would have—she wouldn’t be Diana Kingman anymore.”
