Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
Handwritten Notes
T he moment Diana stepped through the front doors of Westall Estate, she ran. She ignored the startled look from the footman, the way Elizabeth called after her. She didn’t stop. Not until she was in her chambers, the door slammed shut behind her.
Her breathing was ragged, her chest aching as she pressed herself against the door, her fingers trembling at her sides. She took a few steps, only to collapse before she reached the bed, gripping the covers and taking them down with her.
She let the tears run down her cheeks, hot and burning, born out of fury and something that was brewing deep in her soul. She sobbed and didn’t even bother to stop or cover it.
“Diana?” Elizabeth was at the door.
“I…” No other words came out of Diana’s parched throat.
“Diana!”
“Go away!”
She heard footsteps retreating and sighed in relief. She wanted to be alone for good. She had no power to do anything but cry.
“I love you…”
Diana squeezed her eyes shut. No. She wouldn’t think about it. Wouldn’t think about him. But her treacherous mind refused to obey. She could still feel the warmth of his hands on her waist. The way he had sounded so certain.
He was lying. He had to be. James Bolton did not love. He moved through life as he pleased, indulging in games and pleasure and wicked amusement. And she had simply been another diversion.
Diana let out a strangled breath and dug her nails into the sheets as if she could claw the memory out of her mind.
“Diana, I brought tea, and I am coming in.” Elizabeth was back at her door.
“No,” Diana tried.
But it was too late. The door opened a fraction, and Elizabeth came in bearing a tray. The moment she saw her in that condition, she set the tray on a side table and fell to her knees beside her. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around her. And Diana let her.
A fresh wave of tears flooded her. She gripped Elizabeth’s sleeves, holding onto them as if she could anchor herself to the world again. Her body was shaking, and she sobbed in Elizabeth’s arms.
Elizabeth held her, allowed her to let it all out. No judgment and no questions.
After a while, Diana’s sobs ebbed. The storm had passed, but the clouds were still looming in her soul. Softly, Elizabeth took her by the hand to guide her to the small sofa and rubbed circles on her back, still not prying. She poured her a cup of tea and patted her hand, before stroking her hair.
“I was such a fool,” Diana said as she wiped her tears.
“I am sure you were not.” Elizabeth smiled. “I’ve known you for a while, Diana. And there are many things that I would call you, but fool would never cross my mind.”
Diana looked up at her sister-in-law with a grateful look.
“Now, will you tell me what happened?”
“I… James…” Diana said simply as if that would explain everything.
“Yes, I gathered as much. I had to rush down to prevent Stephen from going straight to him. I found him in the armory.”
Diana looked up in shock. Elizabeth was smiling.
“This is not a joke,” Diana sighed.
“I assure you it is not. Just some embellished truth. I mean, I didn’t find him in the armory, but he was asking for his coat.”
Diana shook her head.
This was a mess. And it was all her fault. She should have known better than to make a deal with a rake like James. How did she think she could protect her heart from him? She was a novice, and he was a master. She was doomed the moment she stepped onto that wretched balcony.
“I bought us some time,” Elizabeth continued, sipping her tea calmly. “I told Stephen it is not prudent to kill the man his sister loved.”
Diana’s head snapped toward her so fast that she felt dizzy. Elizabeth gave her a warm look, knowing and soft.
Diana felt tears well up in her eyes again. Was it that obvious?
“I… Oh God.” She couldn’t bring herself to say it.
Elizabeth was waiting patiently, still rubbing slow, comforting circles on her back.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” Diana shook her head.
“I do not believe we have any control over such matters.”
“How could I have fallen for a man like him?”
“Diana, you didn’t fall for a man like him,” Elizabeth said with the wisdom of a woman who had been exactly where Diana was. “You fell for him .”
“I did. I love him,” Diana said, looking out the window as if wishing that the tight feeling in her heart would evaporate.
“But he…?” Elizabeth trailed off.
“I love you…”
Diana closed her eyes at the memory. A man like him must be mistaking passion for love.
“He said he loved me,” she muttered.
“Excuse me?” Elizabeth was obviously not expecting this.
“He said he loved me. Twice, I believe.”
“Twice?” Diana looked at Elizabeth to find her gaping in shock. “I am sorry, Diana. I had mentally prepared a list of appropriate names that I would call him after you told me he let you down gently.”
“What does it matter what he said?”
“What does it matter? It does matter!”
“Then if what he says matters, then let me tell you that a few days ago, he said, ‘So, we had some fun, a mutually entertaining agreement, and you thought you had any claim on me?’ Which versions of him should I believe?”
“He said what? The heartless scoundrel!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Oh, I am so glad I prepared all those names.”
Diana smiled the most bitter of smiles, but her heart winced at the little joy and snuffed it out.
“So, you see,” she sighed. “There is no use in taking his word at face value. He doesn’t love me. He is just playing a game.”
Elizabeth frowned, deep in thought. Her romance with Stephen had not been so smooth either—Diana knew well.
“I saw how he looked at you, Diana.”
“Like a hunter circling his prey, I am sure,” Diana scoffed.
“Like a man longing for something.”
Diana got up, upset. Her anger was making her stronger than she expected.
She turned to Elizabeth with fury in her eyes. “Lust. You mean lust.”
“Oh, I know longing from lust, Diana.”
“James… That man looks at anything with a skirt with interest,” Diana said shakily. “Hardly a testament to his devotion.”
“Yes, I know.” Elizabeth sipped on her tea, calm and composed. “Desire can be fleeting, an amusement, as he so cruelly put it. But longing, Diana, true longing, is something else entirely.”
Diana turned her back on her. She didn’t need to listen to that. To any of that. The fact that she had her doubts was proof enough.
“It makes no difference, Elizabeth.”
“It makes every difference!” Elizabeth protested. “Do not let fear?—”
“Of course, I am afraid!”
Diana was trembling from her overwhelming emotions. She was fisting her skirt, which was crumbling under the tension. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her brow furrowed.
“I can’t stand it, Elizabeth. Not another humiliation. I will not be allowed to think that again only to be crushed.”
“Diana, I know, but?—”
“I barely survived the first time.” Diana sat back down, swaying to calm her nerves. “I still remember it. Standing there with the man I thought would be my husband. Then, she walked in, and he looked at her with such…”
“Longing,” Elizabeth supplied.
Diana looked up at her.
Elizabeth just nodded. “I know it must have hurt. But that doesn’t mean you need to keep living in that moment, let one thing define you.”
“It wasn’t a moment.”
“He was a boy who didn’t know what he wanted,” Elizabeth stated bluntly. “You didn’t love him anyway.”
Diana’s jaw dropped.
“You never even once looked at him the way you looked at James, Diana. I know it, you know it, and I am fairly certain that he knows it too.”
“I am not the same foolish girl.”
“You are not.” Elizabeth smiled. “You learned to build walls around your heart.”
“It’s easier this way. I know what I am now. I know that I am no more than a game to him, and I’d rather walk away with my dignity intact than risk becoming the joke of Society again.”
“So why are you crying?”
Diana’s chest tightened, and her breath caught in her throat. She didn’t know how to answer, didn’t know what words could possibly explain how she felt inside. What push and pull had her going mad.
Her pulse quickened as she looked over Elizabeth’s shoulder.
“I do love him. I am not denying that.”
“You are denying him, though.”
“I… I am afraid,” Diana admitted, hanging her head. “Being abandoned by a man I didn’t love hurt me and almost destroyed me. James… If I let myself believe him, if it’s all a lie, then I won’t survive it.”
Elizabeth grabbed both her hands. The two women exchanged a look of empathy and love.
“If survival is what you are looking for, then yes, forget about him. Lock yourself up with your threads and your books. You’ll be safe, I can guarantee that.”
Diana swallowed. That was for the best. It was. It should be.
“But if you are looking to live, not just survive, then you can’t keep running from your heart. Take the risk, Diana.”
Diana fell silent, her hands trembling. She turned back toward the window, watching the gentle sway of the trees in the garden below, but her thoughts were elsewhere.
“I love you…”
What if he meant it? What if he wasn’t just playing a game? Diana thought of the times he laughed— truly laughed. Of the way he could have taken her. God, Diana would have freely given herself to him. But every time, he made it all about her, unhurried, almost like he was cherishing her.
The battle inside her was raging. Fear had the higher ground. It knew the lay of the land, had established its dominion over her soul for years now. But hope… hope was persistent. Like he was.
Diana went through the next days in a haze, mechanically doing what she always did—being in her drawing room, buried in a book. Elizabeth never once mentioned anything to her, quietly waiting for her to make a decision. And all Diana could do was exist in a state of wishing that this all would go away while unwilling to be parted from even a small memory of it.
“Lady Diana?” The butler came in. “An invitation for you.”
He extended the silver tray, and she looked up from her book with utter boredom. Then she saw it. His letter.
Diana’s heart skipped a beat as she took the letter. Her name was written on the front in a familiar hand, the elegant script unmistakable. James’s script.
Her hands shook.
It was an invitation. Simple and elegant. The Pembertons were hosting a ball for the first time after many years. Nothing else. Just her name on that simple piece of paper. But she knew what he meant.
Come.