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“Oh, I do. Especially now that I know Dee was never a friend of yours butyou.” Florence glanced at the letters. “I was quite surprised, but not as much as I was when I saw the scandalous things the duke wrote you.”
Diana took a step forward, but her cousin quickly held the stack close to the flames again. “What do you want?” Diana asked.
“The duke asked me questions that only Dee would know, and I answered them well. He believes me entirely, and I want to maintain that.”
Diana was puzzled by that. “How did you know…” she trailed off when she glanced at the letters. “You found them earlier, did you not?”
Florence grinned. “Indeed. Now, I want you to make a painting for me that I can give to the duke. He appears to be fond of receiving paintings.”
“And what will you do when he discovers you are not Dee?” Diana challenged her.
“I will ensure he does not until we are married. You will help me attain him.”
“Or what? You will burn my letters?” Diana asked innocently.
“Precisely,” Florence hissed.
Diana had committed every word Matthew had written her to memory. She could trade them for an opportunity to stop her cousin and aunt’s schemes.
“Burn them,” she said. “I will not help youattaina duke.”
Her cousin’s eyes widened then. “You will regret this, Diana.”
“What I regret is asking you to be Dee.” She shrugged, now understanding that Florence needed the letters and, thus, she might not lose them after all. “Burn them, and when you are finished, get out of my room.”
She turned and walked to her bed. Florence opened her mouth to speak but closed it, seemingly thinking of what to say. Diana turned her attention to pulling back her bed covers and climbing in.
“You cannot stop me,” Florence said at last. “You do not deserve his fortune.”
“And you do not deserve his good heart.”
Florence stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut. Diana flopped onto her pillows, sighing deeply. How had her life descended this far into chaos?
Dear Mother and Father,
I hope you are in good health and living well. It has been two months since my last letter, and although I do not expect you to respond, I wanted to tell you that I am well.
Father, Aunt Margaret informed me of your wish for me to find a husband. Please do not be disappointed if I am unable to find a gentleman willing to marry me, and I promise you that I will not be a burden to you if I become a spinster. I will find something to do with my life.
I am still hoping you will reply to my letters so I know that I have not lost you.
Yours,
Diana
She folded the letter and sealed it before staring at it, contemplating whether posting it would be wise. She had written over twenty letters to her parents and they had never replied to a single one. She was sure they would not respond to this one but she had to subtly tell them to stop hoping she would ever marry well.
They were aware of her inheritance, and perhaps that gave them a measure of reassurance that she would not be destitute if she did not marry. Deciding that she would post the letter, she stood.
When she went downstairs, she heard voices coming from the drawing-room and thought at first that it was only her aunt and cousin. As she neared the room, she heard Crawford’s voice and tensed. What was he doing here?
Diana quickly turned and started to run up the stairs.
“Oh, there you are!” Margaret called, and Diana silently cursed. “Lord Crawford is here, and I was just coming to find you.”
Diana turned to face her. “Must I join you?” she whispered.
“Yes, you must. He is a lord and you would do well to consider his suit.”
