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Chapter 6
The days that passed since her father told her of the news and what the Duke had written to him about, Diana had been plunged into a world of uncertainty and worry. Sometimes she would push the fear out of her mind, telling herself that she was only overthinking the situation because nothing had become official yet.
She didn’t know if the Duke would choose her out of the number of agreements he’d received from other eager fathers. She reasoned with herself that she wasn’t a likely choice and therefore had nothing to worry about.
Other times, Diana would hope that the Duke would choose her for a bride because she knew that it would mean an end to all her family’s financial worries. She certainly wouldn’t have to think about money ever again as Duchess. With such a high-ranking title, it was sure to come with a large yearly sum that she would have access to. And with her allowance, she would take care of her parents and make sure they lived the rest of their lives comfortably.
Diana did her best to think positively, to see how this arranged marriage would work well in their favour. She didn’t let her mind think too much about the Duke, of the fear of him being old and ugly, or anything to do with the death of his previous wife. She instead tried to think of him in a kinder way, that he was actually giving her family a large gift and therefore she should feel gratitude towards the man.
But no matter how hard she worked around the house or outside in the garden to cultivate all manner of vegetables that Cook could use, she still found herself worrying. That no matter how much the Duke gave her for an allowance, it wouldn’t ever make up for being married to someone she might not even like in the slightest.
How much was she willing to bear if only to have financial stability and to watch her parents being taken care of. And she was certain to bring Mrs Merriweather with her as her only lady’s maid. She would not turn her back on the few servants she had left to keep things tidy around the small manor.
With each passing day, Diana waited for any sound or announcement that post had arrived at their doorstep. She’d written to her siblings once more, pleading more than normal that they would send money to help support them.
She wondered if one of them would come to their rescue if she’d need to accept the Duke’s offer. Could any of them start to really care about her or their parents? After years of pleading with them, Diana knew that the likelihood was very slim. Therefore, she waited for some sort of letter from the Duke either confirming her fears or letting them know that he’d chosen another.
A knock on the front door one day brought Diana out of her deep thoughts. She’d been sitting in the drawing room, mending a muslin shirt for her father and a dress for her mother. She set her needlework aside and quickly went to the door because she knew her parents were resting, and Mrs Merriweather had gone into the village to barter with the butcher for some meat that could be used as a roast.
As Diana opened the door, she was surprised to be faced with a finely dressed footman with a uniformed vest and matching trousers. She eyed him, wondering who would send their footman personally to her doorstep.
The footman dipped his head and handed her a letter as he said, “The Duke of Chatham requests this letter be delivered to Lord Casey at the earliest convenience.”
“Thank you, sir,” Diana replied as she curtsied. The footman then turned on his heels and made his way back to the carriage. The four-horse carriage was waiting for him in the lane outside the front gate of the worn path that made up the front yard. She looked at the elegant carriage with fine mahogany wheels and trimmings.
The horses also seemed to be of great quality as their coats looked to have been polished that morning. She could tell that the Duke was wealthy just by observing his carriage and horses, as well as the servants he’d sent to deliver this letter to her father.
Diana stepped back inside the house and shut the door firmly. The last thing she wanted was a draught and to leave her parents chilled despite the warm weather outside. She looked down at the letter in her hands as she made her way back to the drawing room. She took up her position on the settee amongst all the mending and simply stared down at the letter in her hands.
The address to her father was elegantly written, much like the letter the Duke had previously written. She could tell that the letter itself was short because it only contained one sheet of writing paper. She wondered if the short message would mean anything of particular importance and had trouble trying to decide if it meant that the Duke had accepted her as his bride, or not.
Diana terribly wanted to open the letter, even though it might upset her father. She knew how much he enjoyed trying to read the post that came each day, even though it was difficult for him. And after he was done with the task, he’d happily hand them over to Diana to process. More than that, she was certain her father would like to know first what the Duke had replied with before making the announcement to the family. Even though Diana kept a close eye on their finances, her father was still the head of the household.
Setting the letter aside, Diana returned to her mending. She tried to become lost in the work, focusing more on the best stitches she should use to make the material appear as though it had never been mended. But from time to time, Diana’s eyes wondered back to the letter, desperate to know what was written inside.
Diana strained her ears, trying to listen for any clue that her parents had risen and readied for the rest of the day. She tried to listen to the sounds of footfall along the upper level hallway, but no matter how much she tried, she heard nothing but the call of the birds outside the windowpanes as they flew through the garden.
Normally, Diana would have enjoyed listening to the birds sing to one another while she worked, but today she was more eager for her parents to rise from their afternoon nap so her father could read the letter immediately.
Once the mending was done, and her parents still having not arrived in the sitting room for afternoon tea, Diana put away all of her minding things, her needle and threads, before moving around the room to see if anything needed dusting. Since their furniture was scarce, and very few possessions were in the room, Diana did not have much cleaning to do in this particular room. Though the carpet was older and worn from use from her parents raising five children, Diana thought it was a pleasant enough room. She’d taken down the draperies and washed them last week so that the room smelled of spring and fresh laundry. She parted them then, letting in the light and allowing herself the opportunity to gaze out of the windowpane to see the garden outside.
Diana heard the sound of the back door opening and closing, knowing that Mrs Merriweather had returned from her task. Not having the motivation to do anything else, Diana weaved her way through the house till she reached the kitchen and saw that the housekeeper was carrying a very small bundle in her basket.
Mrs Merriweather was handing it over to Cook, who looked in the basket and parted the layers of cheesecloth to reveal the piece of meat that had been purchase for a meal. Diana could clearly see that the meat wouldn’t last more than a meal or two, and in that time, she’d have to find another way to come up with an idea to get more food on their table.
“I tried my best,” Mrs Merriweather spoke up, seeming to notice that Diana had come into the room.
Diana forced a pleasant smile as she said, “I know you did, Mrs Merriweather. I’m sure the butcher was just being a brute today.”
“Men are often stubborn, but the butcher is a beast of a man,” Cook said as she took the basket and began to salt and season the meat. Diana couldn’t help chuckling, thinking Cook’s description was accurate from the few times she had to deal with the man.
“Come, Miss Casey. Let us prepare a tea tray for your parents,” Mrs Merriweather suggested.
“They have yet to rise from their afternoon nap,” Diana informed. Mrs Merriweather stopped and looked at Diana, concern on her aged face.
“In that case, I shall go upstairs and check on my mistress,” Mrs Merriweather said as she handed the kettle to Diana. She was thankful for the housekeeper’s help in the matter, and Diana went outside the kitchen door and fetched some water from the well. Once the kettle was full, she dropped the bucket back down below and made her way back inside. There, she set the kettle on the open stove and coaxed the coals underneath to heat the water.
By the time Diana had finished fixing the tea tray, she could hear the chatter of her parents as they came down from upstairs. Diana wiped her hands on her apron and left the kitchen, eager to show her father the letter that had arrived earlier that day. She entered the drawing room just as her parents were getting settled into chairs by the fireplace with the help of Mrs Merriweather easing her mother into hers.
