Ok I know Diana's life seems depressing at the moment, but, I PROMISE that it will get better!
Thank You for Reading and Please Review!
Chapter 6: Secrets
London, September 1843: 9:00 o'clock that Evening.
He walked down the dark street, pulling his collar up against the drizzling rain.
His clothing didn't mark him as anything remarkable. It would have been easy for a passerby to distinguish him as a sailor and if they were knowledgeable a captain, but nothing more.
That suited him.
Drawing attention to himself, especially at this time of night, would not be advisable.
A notion lost on the well-dressed gentleman on the opposite side of the street.
A portly man with a thick mustache. He was wearing a fine waistcoat and top hat.
That alone marked him as a man of means, but the real tell was that he would stop every block or so to check that his gold watch was keeping time.
A more sensible person would be more careful where he flaunted his wealth. This poor fool seemed oblivious to the area he was in.
Most likely new money.
Bruce trudged along at a slow pace.
Even more proof of the man's lack of awareness. He had failed to notice that he was being followed and that he had been for the past hour and a half.
Bruce had been following him up and down various streets at a discreet distance since he noticed him. Attempting to save the misguided buffoon from his own folly.
The gentleman may have missed his presence, but Bruce knew any would-be muggers would not. So, he had offered invaluable protection for the arrogant sod. Determined to see him safely home.
Even the wife of a fool deserves a living husband.
The gentleman climbed the steps of a rather gaudy townhouse in a newer section of the city.
Bruce watched from the street as the door opened and light flooded the sidewalk.
A short woman with a double chin and mousy features opened the door and smiled at the man. He kissed her on both cheeks before pulling a parcel from his coat pocket and depositing it in her chubby hands.
With a squeal, she threw her arms around his neck and assaulted his face with kisses.
The man laughed and freed himself from her choking embrace. She ushered him inside with all the fuss and care of a mother hen. As the door closed Bruce could hear her chastising voice.
"Really Peter Dear! Don't wear your boots in the house! Your slippers are by the fire."
Her words echoed down the street which was once again returned to darkness.
He stood there for a moment. Watching the closed door. Almost hoping it would open and a kind motherly voice would beckon him in, scolding him for wearing boots on her carpet.
He moved on.
The detour had put him off course and Bruce Wayne was a man who didn't waste time.
Quickening his pace he wove his way through the streets with the ease of a native.
As he walked his thoughts turned to Diana.
He felt guilty over leaving the way he did but believed it was for her own good.
She would never give them a chance as long as she had him to hide behind. That became clear the moment she met Lois and Clark.
What a disaster.
No, what they all needed was some alone time. That was the only way they would start getting to know one another.
The image of the tearful 15-year-old begging him to stay came to mind but he banished it.
He had come to care for Diana over the past 3 months. View her as a little sister, someone he wanted to protect and shelter.
He had never had any siblings of his own. During their time together he had transferred all the loyalty and protectiveness he would've given a brother or sister to her.
But now that delightful fantasy was at an end. She was in England now with her family, and although his feelings of brotherly affection remained as fierce as ever, he did not wish for them to hinder her connection with her real relations.
But I will make sure you are safe Diana.
It was this mental promise that drove him through the rain to a rather modest dwelling of red brick.
He knocked and the door, pulling his hat down still further against the increasing rain.
It opened.
A man with wasps of grey hairs springing from his head stood in the doorway.
Seeing his visitor the man jumped and motioned him inside out of the rain.
Closing the door the man lit a candle and beckoned his guest towards the study.
Once inside the man lit various lamps and candles.
Indicating a chair for Bruce he took a seat behind an impressive oak desk.
Now seated the man smiled, his white teeth gleaming against dark skin.
He addressed his visitor as an equal of intelligence and status.
"It's good to see you, Bruce. And what brings the Duke of Gotham to my door?"
"It's good to see you too Lucius. I'm afraid I have come with a request."
"Don't you always."
The older man chuckled.
"But after what you've done for me how could I refuse? What do you need this time?"
Reaching into his pocket Bruce pulled out a folded slip of paper and slid it across the desk.
Lucius accepted it and put on his reading spectacles as he opened the paper.
Upon reading it he bolted upright in his chair and pulled the lamp to his face to be sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him.
"You can't be serious!"
"I'm always serious."
"Yes but, what on earth is it for?"
"Nothing that concerns anyone else."
"It does if you expect me to agree to this! Now explain."
Bruce straightened in his chair. He may not have had a spoiled upbringing but he was still a Duke and was accustomed to receiving what he asked for.
"If memory serves Mr. Fox I am allowed control over 10% of my inheritance until my 30th birthday."
"Yes but…"
"And according to your last report, the amount written on that paper is far from the full 10%."
"Well it certainly won't bankrupt you by any means, but my job…"
"Your job is to advise and control the remaining 90%."
"But how am I supposed to advise if you don't tell me what's going on!?"
"Have I ever given you a reason to doubt my judgment?"
Lucius let out a deep sigh and slouched in his chair.
"Be at the bank tomorrow at six."
"Thank you."
Diana,
She sat in the window seat, knees pulled to her chest, watching the rainfall gather on the pane and run down in streaks.
Her black dress lay crumpled in a heap on the floor. She had ripped it off the moment Beth left. Though she had been careful not to pull out any buttons this time.
Hideous though it was, it was the best she had.
Resting her head on her knees she glanced around the room…her room.
Trying to distract her brain from replaying the evening's events over again; as it seemed so willing to do.
Standing, she stood on the edge of the rug, crinkling her toes into the warm fibers.
It was pink, white, and gold. A design that was trying to imitate the elaborate majesty of the carpet designs of the Persians.
Hunching down she ran her hand across the flowery pattern. Feeling a small amount of smug superiority.
She doubted an ignorant Englishman would know the difference, but the inferior quality of the rug was obvious to her.
Straightening she took in the rest of the room.
It should have been a freeing size after the confined space of the ship. But her room in that wooden hull had come to feel secure and safe. Making this room feel too large and empty. She could rattle around like a pebble in a bucket.
Odd, this room could fit in a corner of her chambers back in the palace, but it hadn't felt too large.
The bed was of dark wood with a canopy of pink damask that matched the bedding. Across the room was an armoire, also of a dark glossy wood. There were a full-length mirror and an ornate dressing screen with gold gilt and pink upholstery.
The walls were white, a somewhat boring color, with elegant molding around the ceiling. A variety of charcoal drawings of nature scenes and animals hung on the walls.
The fireplace was across from the bed.
There were two large windows looking out over the street. They had thick drapes of pink and white, and one had a window seat that overflowed with pillows.
Moving her eyes back to the foot of the bed she found at its base her trunk.
Kneeling down she undid the latch and pushed back the lid.
Digging through her other dresses and layers of underclothes, that she had never worn, she searched for her nightgown.
Finding the sleeve she pulled put the fabric wouldn't move.
She tried again but only heard the sound of seams beginning to pull.
Letting go she began to yank articles out of the trunk. Throwing them across the floor. Marring the pink perfection.
Her nails scratched against something as she removed a petticoat from the box.
It was the jewelry chest.
She ceased the destruction.
Putting both hands into the trunk she lifted out the chest and placed it in her lap.
The firelight reflected off the jewels, making them winked at her.
Reverently, she caressed the case. Outlining the flowers and gold trimmings with her fingers.
This was her last link to her mother, to home.
Closing her eyes she saw her homeland. Vast sweeping deserts, waving palm trees, the endless blue of the sea. The laughter of her sisters as they played in the garden. The calming sound of her mother's voice drifting through the marble halls. Sweet scents of Jasmine and frankincense that clung to linen curtains as they billowed in the breeze.
Tears leaked beneath her closed lids as her heart ached to be there.
To go home.
She was from another world.
One of beauty and grace.
A place that those who she must now call her family would never see, but only hear of through story and song.
She might as well have been something from myth or a legend.
"I may have to live here…but I will never forget those who raised me."
Lifting the chest she placed it back inside the trunk and began to bury it beneath layers of clothing.
She wanted to hide it from the world. To hold on to this last piece of her past as selfishly as she could.
Let them make her over in their image. She would learn their ways, adopt their customs and dress, and even speak their hateful language. But this…..this was hers…and she would never share it with anyone.
A small piece of her hoped that one day she would come to care for these people. Hoped that they would care for her….but a part of her would never belong here.
"I am Lady Diana Princeton, but I am also Princess Amira of Dagra. And I will never forget that."
Hiding her treasures she put on her nightdress and crawled into bed. Burrowing beneath the covers, wishing she was anywhere but there.
I wish Bruce was here.
She fell into a dreamless sleep.
