Richard,
I received your letter about the truth behind your attachment to Lady Herbert, and I must say, cousin, that I do not know whether to call you uncommonly stupid or uncommonly brave. That you were willing to give up a love I know you have not forgotten to this day is indeed beyond my comprehension.
However, your explanation puts many fears to rest. Elizabeth and myself were both unwilling to abide by Aunt Alexandra's plan, since from all I knew of Lady Herbert I felt it would be uncomfortable for you if she and Elizabeth were to grow close. Frankly, I confessed myself troubled with her as well, though on that respect I suppose my mind is now at ease. I will only say, cousin, that you should think long and hard about what you want to do now, since you are only fooling yourself if you think her company does not affect you in a way that you are perhaps unable to describe fully as yet.
I will address all further correspondence to Fitzwilliam House in town. I look forward to seeing you in London soon.
Yours, etc.
Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Richard put the letter down and sipped his tea, unwilling to dwell on the last part of the message. Instead, he breathed a sigh of relief when he realized he had done the right thing by writing to Darcy before he left Fitzwilliam manor. His cousin's loyalty knew no bounds, and he had no doubt he would have shunned Diana and her help completely if he felt it to be insensitive to Richard in any way. On that point, he was glad they were accepting her help: he had heard from the butler that there was scarcely anything on the minds of the ton except the future Mrs. Darcy. Caroline Bingley, who was to be the sister-in-law of the elder Miss Bennet, was certainly not helping matters, her tone malicious as ever when she spoke of the Bennets and their lifestyle. Wickham's name had not yet appeared, though Richard supposed it would not be long before Lydia's elopement would also be brought into the mix.
His mind went to his plans for the day. He had delivered his mother's instructions to the housekeeper, and other than overseeing some minor changes to the spare rooms, he had not much else to do. The letter and wedding invitation were still in his pocket-book, and he realized he would have to depart soon and deliver them. The thought of seeing Diana in her new home with the finery he knew she deserved made him uneasy. He had left willingly, knowing that that was to be her future, and yet the thought of her eight years in the company of a man he suspected, nay, hoped, she did not love was something he would never be able to come to terms with.
!
Diana had barely been awake for a few hours when a visitor was announced. Within the confines of her own home, she was known to prefer things a certain way. The maids murmured that their mistress slept at odd times, often reading late into the night. She had a habit of hiding in her private sitting-room at the back of the house when guests came to call. Her hair was wild and free more often than it was not, and she was wont to sit in the parlour, in her best dress, barefoot. Of course, none of it was confirmed since Diana was the picture of elegance when they fluttered past her in the corridors and on their way to the kitchens. To be sure, she smiled more than the other ladies, and was known to pop a half-crown into the hand of anyone who so much as curtseyed to her in the hallway, but her public exhibitions of strangeness ended there. The housekeeper and her personal maid were the only two who saw her peculiar habits more often than not, but old Mrs. Hull was loyal to the bone and would do nothing but sing praises of the woman her master had married, and Sarah was too timid to speak at all, so gossip was at an all time low in the Herbert household.
On this morning, Diana had just washed her hair and was letting it dry naturally as she lay on the divan in her sitting room, which seemed worlds away from the formal parlour she knew her mother was entertaining in. Diana had told the maids to say she was ill, and to strictly keep all visitors out of her way. So, when a sharp knock sounded on her door and her own ladies' maid, Sarah, poked her head in, Diana knew something was wrong.
"Come in, dear," Diana sat up wearily and ran a hand through her damp tresses. "I suppose you've come to put that wretched cap on my head, have you?"
"Only to make you presentable, mum," said Sarah, and Diana noticed a small pile in her arms.
She frowned as Sarah hurriedly began to put her hair up in a loose bun. She slipped her feet into her shoes and accepted her shawl from the girl, raising her eyebrows when she finally came into view again. "Well, child, what is it? Has my mother found me out?"
"No, mum, Mrs. Harris is still in the parlour. A gentleman is here, mum, and he sent in a letter and would have left but Mrs. Harris saw him from the window and bid him enter. He's waiting in the hall for you, mum."
"A gentleman?" Diana frowned, getting to her feet and making her way towards the door. "I fail to understand you, Sarah. I did not want to be disturbed."
"Please, mum," Sarah hesitated, and Diana almost rolled her eyes, turning to face her in annoyance. Sarah had been a housemaid at her old house, before she was married, and had willingly volunteered to leave with her when she had left for Herbert Manor. Diana loved her immensely, but the girl's timidity had not ended despite the long association. "Its –"
"Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam," announced a footman loudly, his voice shocking Diana out of her wits. She jumped a foot in the air and turned around sharply, only to see Richard enter the room looking entirely uncomfortable and slightly annoyed. She froze for a second, and it was only Sarah's bobbed curtsey and hasty exit from the room that made her come to her senses. She returned the colonel's bow shakily, and indicated for him to sit, which he did.
She was tongue-tied for a moment, but fortunately he broke the tension. "I apologise, my lady, I did not mean to impose," his tone was so stiff and formal that Diana looked up in surprise, a look she knew he had caught before she could school her expression. Other than a softening of his eyes, he gave no indication that he had noticed. "Your mother saw me as I left and insisted that I come inside."
"Its no trouble. I was merely reading," she gestured to the abandoned book lying by her side, picking it up and fiddling with the cover nervously. "It is good to see you," she blurted out, cursing herself for not thinking when she saw surprise flicker across his face. "The weather is uncommonly fine. Did you just reach London?" she asked quickly, hoping he would ignore her slip.
Richard took her hint and nodded at her question. "Only just. My mother entrusted me with a letter for Mrs. Harris and a wedding invitation for you both."
"Wedding?" asked Diana, a little too sharply. Had her mother not been wrong, then, when she had spoken of Anne de Bourgh and Richard's apparent engagement?
His eyebrows shot up at her tone. "Yes, between my cousin and Miss Elizabeth, of course."
"Oh," Diana blinked, the rushing thoughts in her head immediately calming at his statement. "That – that is very generous of Miss Elizabeth."
"Indeed. As of yet, nothing is confirmed but I am in town until then and I will be travelling to Hertfordshire in advance of the wedding. Miss Elizabeth has already made arrangements for you and your mother to stay in Mr. Bingley's home and I will accompany you, if you should wish it."
"That is very kind of you, Colonel, thank you." It was kind. Diana had no doubt that her presence, and that of her mother, brought about memories Richard would rather forget, yet there was nothing in his tone that even suggested the idea made him uncomfortable. She smiled slightly, and the slight twitch of his lips and further softening of his eyes told her he appreciated her recognition. They would never be as free as they once were with each other, but the small feeling of happiness Diana got just by being around him was back, as if he had never left.
They lapsed into silence at that, and the entrance of a footman with tea finally gave Diana something to do. She sent a quick prayer of thanks to Mrs. Hull and had barely taken a sip from her cup when her mother walked in. She winced, an action that did not go unnoticed by the colonel, though her mother was blissfully unaware.
"Richard! How delightful to see you," her mother's voice was kinder than it had ever been, and Diana knew Richard had noticed. Suddenly, she felt like a seventeen-year-old child again, anxious for her mother to approve of the man she had fallen in love with. She was still anxious, but she realized she no longer wanted her mother's approval. Indeed, at that moment she wanted to be anywhere but in the room with the woman who had ruined her chance of happiness with the only man she would ever love.
!
"You were uncommonly quiet," commented her mother as they sat at dinner. Diana did not respond, merely ate another mouthful and kept her gaze fixed on her plate. It was a vain hope that her mother would simply stop speaking. "He came to us as soon as he reached London, you know."
"I know," said Diana shortly.
"And he offered to take us to Hertfordshire in his carriage as well!"
"Yes, he did."
"Are you not glad, my dear?"
"It does not matter."
"Don't be ridiculous, child," huffed her mother. "You say you love him, and yet his attentions do not make you glad at all!"
Diana snorted, pushing her plate away and meeting her mother's gaze head on. "I am neither glad nor sad, mother. I am mourning my husband, the man I lived with for eight years without being able to feel anything except a vague contentment. Now, the man I was in love with has come back into my life, and you seem adamant at making him stay there. Pray, what is your motive? Has Richard come into a fortune since I last saw him? Is the viscount dying, and he is now heir to the earldom? Or perhaps the military is now a respectable career choice for your daughter's suitor, now that she is five and twenty and a widow with more money than she can spare?"
She did not wait for her mother's response, merely pushed herself away from the small table they had been eating at and departed from the room, ignoring the curious looks from the footmen outside the door. The room was soundproof, and she had not raised her voice, so she knew she was safe. Her relationship with her mother was tense at best, and she had never cared what gossip was said on that front since it was all true. She could not stand Mina Harris, not because she was materialistic and proud, but because Diana knew she was proud of her and materialistic for her, and that had always made her uneasy.
Not the confrontation we were all hoping for but I assure you it will happen eventually. I received a review saying this story had a very Persuasion feel to it and I just realized it does! I can't complain, of course, but I aim to make Diana as little like Anne as I can, but Richard and Wentworth can have EVERYTHING in common as far as I'm concerned ;)
Much love! Hope you enjoy this short addition, see you next week! x
