"I am not certain I understand." Diana was truly confused now. "What does this have to do with Lord Hallstone?" If anything, for she could not see how it was possible.
Settling more firmly onto the bed, Ursula let go of Diana's hand. "When I was a young girl, my life was not easy. My father, though he was titled, was a wastrel and a gambler. He wasted the family's fortune and married my mother when his funds ran out. After all, she was very wealthy in her own right, as she was the daughter of a duke. But my father did not love her. Then again, theirs was not a love match, nor was it meant to be one."
Ursula looked off into the distance as if seeing back into the past. "After their wedding, my father was wealthy once more, but he did not change his ways. Not even a little bit. He continued to spend funds we did not have and would have run us all into the poorhouse had he not died just before I was to have my come-out. It was an unsettling time, but we managed, my mother and I. Still, I never forgot the fear I felt deep inside of me each night as I went to bed. Fear about what would happen to me and my mother."
She turned to look at Diana. "I vowed then and there that should I ever have a daughter, I would raise her to be strong, not weak like my mother was. Like I had started out to be. At the same time, I also vowed that I would not be a fool for any man, not like my mother had been for my father." She swallowed hard. "Then I met the Duke of Hathaway."
"Adam's father." Diana knew there could be no other and thus far, her mother's story only confirmed what Diana herself had long suspected.
Ursula gave a humorless laugh as she stroked the strand of heirloom pearls around her neck. "I was infatuated with him. He was all I desired in a man. And he was a duke. Wealthy and settled. Secure. He seemed to favor me as well, but I could not act on those feelings. I did not know how. In many ways, I was too frightened to do so. Then, when my best friend Mary saw him, she was just as captivated as I. But she was not afraid. After all, she had not endured life with my father."
"And she won the duke's heart." Diana felt that had to be the case. After all, Mary and the duke had married. And Ursula had wed Diana's father.
"It was not quite that simple." Her mother shook her head, lost in her memories. "In truth, the duke was more fascinated with me than with my friend, but politics were involved and he was forced to wed Mary in order to save the dukedom, as he was not nearly as financially secure as I had initially believed. Theirs was, as you might guess, a political match and neither one was very happy about it. Mary had always hoped to marry for love, as had I. She was devastated that she had been given the duke on a silver platter when she did not want him or love him. And she knew that I did."
Diana nodded in understanding as her mother continued. "That day was when we made the pact that our children, should we be blessed enough to have any, would marry. It was our way of righting this wrong, as it were."
"That is why you insisted that I wed Hathaway, that no other man would do." Diana was not quite certain she fully understood the enormity of her mother's lost love, but she was beginning to, especially considering how bereft she herself felt without Lachlan. "You wished for me to have what you never could."
"Something like that," Ursula admitted with a shake of her head. "However, I think in time that Mary did fall in love with Hathaway, just as I had so long ago. And I knew it as well, even if I never could admit it. So I kept pushing for your match with Adam, praying that I was wrong and that some day, my beloved daughter would have what I never could."
"A love match." That was something that Diana understood all too well. "But I do not love the duke. Adam is not the man for me. He never was."
Her mother nodded her head in acceptance. "And I should have realized the truth of that long ago. I raised you to follow your heart, to seek out a real and true love, the sort of love that I was denied. I did not raise you to seek out only security for your future. If that had been the case, I know you would have wed the duke long ago." Then she shrugged. "All of what I have raised you to be is at odds with the marriage I was attempting to force you into. I am only sorry that it took Lord Hallstone's arrival for me to understand that I was at cross-purposes where your happiness was concerned. I was not truly doing what was best for you at all. Merely what I wished I could have had."
Now it was Diana's turn to squeeze her mother's hand. "I am to blame as well, Mama. I sat by and did nothing while the idea of some distant wedding to Lord Hathaway was pushed at me. I could have spoken up. I could have demanded that other men be allowed to court me. I think we both know that Father would have agreed to such a proposal." She grimaced. "I just did not want to hurt you. I love you far too much for that."
Ursula wiped at her suddenly teary eyes. "And I love you, Diana. All I have ever wanted was for you to be happy." Then she cleared her throat and straightened, squaring her shoulders like a general about to march into battle. "Which is why I am here. I need to know. Does Lord Hallstone make you happy?"
"I thought he did," Diana admitted softly, twisting her hands in the bedsheets. "He was so good and so kind. He was everything I wished that Lord Hathaway could be. From the moment I met him, something shifted inside of me. I cannot explain it, but it was as if a part of me suddenly began living. A part that I did not even realize had been dormant all this time."
"That was how I felt when I first met Adam's father," her mother admitted softly, her eyes taking on that dreamy, faraway look once more. "It was love at first sight. There is not another way to explain it."
"Lachlan does not believe in love. At least not for himself. He has told me as much. Many times." Diana probably should have worried that she had slipped up and used the marquess' Christian name but she could not quite bring herself to care at the moment.
Ursula snorted and waved away Diana's words as if they were nothing. "Posh! He does love you. Both your father and I saw it that first day he called upon you. Why do you think your father granted him leave to court you so easily? It was not because Lord Hallstone was charming and handsome. Though he is both of those things, I grant you," she admitted. "It was because your father could see the man's love for you in his eyes and in his actions. As could I. I just did not wish to admit it. For then that dream of mine would be well and truly dead." She shrugged. "Sometimes, dreams like that are difficult to let go of. Even if they are not the right ones to have."
"Are you really that unhappy with Papa?" Diana asked, the answer suddenly important. Given that she would most likely no longer make a love match of her own, she felt that she had to know for her own peace of mind, if for no other reason.
"No, my dear, I am not." Her mother's face softened. "I did not love your father when we wed. In fact, I hardly knew him at all, really. But he is a good man and while I cannot say that I love him deeply even now, I do care for him a great deal. I hold him in great affection and he does the same for me. And for both of us, that is enough."
Diana gave that some thought for a moment. "But my situation with Lord Hallstone is very different. I saw him with his stepmother, Claire. She came to me at Madame LaVallier's. Said things. Horrible things."
"Did you ever consider that she, too, wishes to be the next Marchioness of Hallstone after her current husband passes?"
"Well, yes," Diana admitted with a laugh, the first time she had done so in days. "I am not so foolish, Mama. You did raise a reasonably intelligent daughter, after all."
Ursula gave an indignant snort. "I should hope so."
"I told him that I loved him, Mama," Diana sighed, dropping her eyes once more. "He did not even acknowledge those words. He acted as if he did not hear them. I know that he does not think himself capable of love, but..."
"Men are often foolish, stupid creatures, my darling," Ursula replied knowingly, and suddenly Diana had the feeling that her mother knew all about the night her daughter had spent in Lachlan's bed. "They believe we are the weaker sex, but it is they who are often blind to the world around them. I have seen you and Lord Hallstone together. He might not belie
ve it, but he is in love with you. And I know that you are in love with him." Then she patted Diana's hand. "If he never says the words, can you live with that? Can you forgive him for what you think you saw? For perhaps your friend Eliza is correct when she says that what you think you saw might not have been reality at all? The girl really does have an uncanny knowledge of such things."
Diana mulled that over for a minute, taking in all that her mother had said, from the revelations of her own past to the way she had felt compelled to press Diana into a marriage of security and not love. The very marriage Ursula herself had been denied.
Diana had been hurt deeply when she had viewed Claire's hand on Lachlan's face. She had reacted without thinking, more out of a sense of anger and betrayal than anything. Once she stopped to consider things, however, she realized that there was a chance that what she thought she had observed was not the truth at all. Lachlan's lack of reaction to Diana's declaration of love had hurt her, more than she had cared to admit. She had wanted him to hurt as well, to feel the pain and uncertainty of not knowing whether or not that love was returned.
There was still a chance that Claire had been telling the truth, of course. Diana knew she would be a fool if she did not consider that possibility. Still given all that she and Lachlan had shared, she knew she owed it to him to hear him out, give him an opportunity to explain.
Then her eyes drifted downward and she prayed that her mother did not follow her gaze. There was also a very real possibility that Diana was, even now, carrying Lachlan's child. That night in his bed, they had done nothing to prevent that possibility. Until this very moment, she had not even considered it. But there was a very good chance she was already with child. His child. Lachlan's child.
Lachlan had come to her family's door at least twice a day since the incident, pleading for an audience with her, begging to be allowed to speak with her and explain. He wanted a chance to offer his side of the story. Every time, he had been turned away. Diana had watched him leave, his shoulders slumping deeper in defeat with each rejection. Perhaps it was time she gave him a chance to explain. It was the fair and right thing to do. She would have expected him to give her no less of a chance, had the roles been reversed.
And Diana knew she had to think about the future of this child she might be carrying, for a little voice inside of her whispered that she was not wrong in her assumptions. She was most likely pregnant.
"He might be telling the truth," Diana admitted, keeping her eyes on the floor, not wanting to look at her mother just yet for fear that all of her emotions and thoughts would be written there. "I owe it to him, to any future we might have together, to give him another chance. Or at least, a chance to explain what I witnessed."
When Diana looked up, however, her mother was watching her daughter with knowing eyes. As usual, she should not have underestimated her mother or her mother's instinct for somehow knowing what Diana often left unsaid.
"It has been three days," Ursula said briskly, reaching out to squeeze Diana's hand. "You have been out of society long enough, I think. The Devonmont musicale is tonight." She rose from the bed with a plan clearly in place in her mind. "I will send notes to your friends Sophia and Eliza. They will, I think, be happy to accompany you to the Devonmont's for support. I will also make certain that Lord Hallstone is made aware of your plans for the evening." Then she moved towards the door, but not before she took one last look at her daughter. "The rest, Diana, is up to you. I will make certain you and Lachlan get your second chance. The second chance I never had. Please make the most of it. Whatever happens after this evening? We shall deal with it as a family. Just as we always have." Then she was gone, presumably off to send the aforementioned notes.
For a moment, Diana could do nothing but draw in a series of deep breaths. In truth, she was afraid. What if she did all of this only to discover that Claire had been telling the truth? What if Lachlan preferred the bed of his stepmother to the one he had shared with Diana? If he did care for Claire, what would Diana do if she was carrying his child?
Then she shook her head, a little disgusted with herself. She was getting ahead of herself and that was unlike her. Whatever happened at the Devonmont's this evening, she would weather it with the support of her family and friends. In her most secret of fantasies, Lachlan would be at her side and all would be forgiven - on both sides. But she would never know if she could obtain that dream unless she acted.
A lifetime of inaction had led her to this point in her life. It was time to be bold. It was time to be Lady Diana Saintwood, the woman she had always been deep inside. She needed to set foot upon a new path, one that would either take her towards Lachlan or away from him. But whatever path she took, she would be moving forward. She would no longer be standing still while she helped others fix their lives. It was finally time to fix her own.
Quickly, Diana hurried over to the bell pull and rung for Marie. She wanted to truly sparkle tonight and that would require nearly every beauty weapon in the maid's considerable arsenal. They only had a few hours to get her ready and Diana's best dress, the deep plum one that made her eyes deepen to a midnight hue much like Lachlan's own had not been pressed yet. Not to mention that her jewels had to be located and her slippers cleaned if necessary. And a bath, of course. It would not do for her to appear rumpled and at anything less than her best.
If she was going to win back the heart of her marquess - forever - then Diana knew she still had work to do. However she was determined. She loved Lachlan. She thought she had from the moment they had met. She was not about to let him go without a fight.
Chapter Nineteen
Lachlan stared at the piece of paper in his hand that had been delivered to him in his second floor library mere moments ago. It was not written by Diana. Of that much he was certain. Yet it still bore Lord Westfield's seal and was written in a decidedly feminine hand. That left the most logical of suspects to be Marie, Diana's maid, or Ursula Saintwood herself. He thought he had a better chance at becoming the next Prince Regent than he did at winning over the heart and mind of Lady Westfield. However there could be no other explanation. He sincerely doubted the maid would be so bold.
The missive indicated that Diana would be attending Lord Devonmont's musicale that evening. Lachlan had not planned to attend the fête, instead thinking that Diana would choose a far less scandalous and public location for the evening. After all, the Devonmont musicale did have something of a reputation for creating scandals. Given that most everyone was still gossiping about his little spectacle with Claire outside of Madame LaVallier's shop the other day, he would have thought she would be keen to avoid a place where she might be whispered about.
That seemed not to be the case, however.
Well, if that was where Diana would be, then so would Lachlan. He loved her. He wanted her back. And he would fight whomever he had to in order to win her heart once more.
His thoughts were interrupted by Roberts, who cleared his throat rather loudly, making Lachlan turn. "Lord Candlewood to see you, my lord."
Lachlan was not at all surprised to see the notorious duke lounging in the doorway behind the butler, looking rather bored and studying his fingernails as if they were the most fascinating things he had ever beheld. By now, Lachlan had decided that much of Candlewood's behavior was all an act. The duke's goal was to pretend he didn't care - about anyone or anything. Except that Lachlan suspected the man did care. Very much.
"Thank you, Roberts," he sighed and waved the duke inside. He had to prepare for the evening. He needed to gather his thoughts so that he might somehow manage to win Diana back. He did not need another dressing down from the Bloody Duke to make him feel worse than he already did.
"Very good, my lord." Then the butler was gone, leaving the two men alone.
Candlewood, it seemed, was anxious to get directly to the point. "I have news of your erstwhile stepmother. She is not, I can say for certain, the motherly sort, if you take my meaning."
"Do
tell." Lachlan waved Candlewood into a seat as he poured them both a good, stiff scotch. "I cannot wait to hear what sort of devilry she is up to now. Let me guess. It involves Lord Fontaine? The man does seem to get around rather a lot."
The duke shrugged as if the man involved did not matter and perhaps it didn't. "Close. Lord Meriweather." He took the glass from Lachlan with a nod of thanks.
"That old lecher?" Lachlan thought that even Claire had some standards. "That man must be older than my father."
"He is a marquess." Candlewood took a sip of his scotch, savoring it for a moment with a small, satisfied smile. "He is old. He is wealthy. And he is not likely to die before your father, despite his advanced age. If she is careful, she might be able to wed him just after she is out of mourning and a few weeks before the old man dies himself." Then he raised his glass to the light. "Excellent scotch, by the way."
"If you help me fix this with Diana and get rid of my stepmother, I shall send you an entire case. Several, in fact." If Candlewood could do something about Claire, Lachlan would gladly hand over all of the scotch in Scotland.
"The chit has been a pest, I take it?"
Lachlan grumbled into his own glass. "Every day she beats on my door, begging to be allowed inside to see me. So Roberts allows her in, mostly to get her to quiet down for a time, and then the footmen escort her right out the back door and into the mews. It's either that or allow her to continue to cause a scene." He shook his head. "I am uncertain why I fascinate her so. I am a marquess, but there are others." He inclined his head. "I am not even that handsome, really."
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