The Price of Pride
7
Diana did not wander far outside. An hour touring the grounds was enough to tire her a little. She did not come across Mr. Wayne or his godson, though she suspected both were locked up in the former's office. She headed straight back to her brother's room. Jason was awake and speaking with Io in soft tones. They both turned silent when she entered.
At first, she felt nothing but relief at seeing him aware and moving. Then, the reasons for her mood returned full force and she scowled.
"So, when am I to be married?" she snapped immediately, else she was certain she would never broach the subject.
Her twin gave her a stare of disbelief.
"How should I know?" he retorted. His voice was weak but his eye spry. He may be physically tired, his mental was perfectly alert. Good. "Have you found a beau yet?"
"No, but hearsay you did."
His face turned even blanker, betraying his confusion. Diana felt her temper rise slightly, so she gave another nudge:
"It seems my behavior has turned for the worse, and the best way to rein me in is to find me a husband. According to Luthor, I am to expect an offer from him and agree."
She noted the moment realization dawned upon him. Jason turned very white, and then very red.
"For heaven's sake-" he started and glared at her. "And you believed them?"
"I have heard those rumors from two different sources now. They must have come from somewhere," she pointed out dryly.
"It was a jest!" he protested. "I indulged a little at my club the other night and we spoke of women and other things...I may have hinted that I was watching out for a match for my sisters, but by God, you of all people should know I would never make a match in your name before speaking to you first! Especially someone like Luthor. He is not a good man, and I would not yet sell my own sister's soul to that bastard!"
He sounded hurt by her accusation and his glare made her feel guiltier.
"Understand me, Jason, I had to ask," she retorted quietly. The young man huffed and crossed his arms. She took the two letters she had received earlier and handed them to him. "Read these. You will understand…I believe you, but I had to ask nonetheless."
The glare didn't lessen, but he took the letters and started. Fury grew as he read Lyla's input, but nothing was more flagrant when he finished their father's letter. His face turned white and unreadable. With unusual calm, he folded the letters, and put them on his lap. Then, he slowly looked her in the eye.
"You have no idea how much I wish you have been born a man," he spoke so coldly she felt the chill down her spine. "I knew father wished I was more like you, though he never told me directly. But this," he nodded towards the papers. "This is…" Another pause. "Get out of the room Diana. I have to think."
Had he sounded so ever arrogant like he occasionally did, Diana would have slapped him hard and without thinking twice. Instead, his expression turned grim and his voice defeated. She turned around and left the room, eager to give him the space he needed. As she stepped in the corridor, she felt the weight of her upcoming responsibilities crashing on her shoulders like a heavy wave. She nearly tripped, leaned back against the wall instead, closed her eyes. The sigh she expired left her body empty and cold.
I knew father wished I was more like you…
Diana had always envied her brother for his position; she had never suspected he envied her back. The need to move urged her feet to guide her outside, back to the gardens where she and Mr. Wayne had walked together. She spotted the bench hidden away in the bushes and sat there. The weather was clear and warm, the spot soothed her. Her eyes closed as she breathed in and out slowly. The scent of nearby flowers enveloped her in a gentle cocoon; the sun warmed her skin.
Time seemed to flow as she basked in the solitude of the moment. As long as she stood there, she could forget her worries.
"Are you alright?"
Mr. Wayne's voice interrupted her woolgathering, but she did not mind. She snorted in a very unladylike manner before turning bright. It seemed that whether he annoyed her or not, she let her guard down around him. That, or the exhaustion of the previous days was growing on her.
"I do not know," she replied honestly. "My brother is angry and envious of me, my sisters have been holding off a most disagreeable man away and not telling me, and I do not know what to do."
Mr. Wayne remained silent. While she had kept her eyes closed, she could feel his stare on her. Much to her surprise, it did not bother as much as it ought to.
"May I sit?" he asked eventually. Diana nodded her agreement and shifted on the side to give him space. She opened her eyes, watched him take place by her side, closer than propriety would allow. They were hidden by the bushes though, and she looked more kindly on him after the past week. He suddenly reached for her hand and took it between his owns. The boldness of his gesture surprised her at first, but was soon replaced by a different sensation. His hands were strong and warm, and Diana somewhat felt secured with his touch.
"Richard has told me what he knew," he began. "Your father wrote to me as well. He is in no state to direct his business, and in spite of what he may believe, neither is your brother. I know your family is standing at crossroads as of now and will heavily rely on you."
His words were nothing knew, but hearing the blunt description of her situation made it even more real.
"As you may know, I lost my parents at a relatively young age," he went on. The sardonic smirk did not hide the painful irony: everyone knew about the tragic encounter his parents had with highwaymen. "I did not have relatives, close or distant. My inheritance was closely overviewed by my butler and my father's former personal assistant. I had to fight to keep my right as my father's heir. Fortunately, I was not alone." His thumb caressed the top of her hand. "And neither are you. Your sisters might not be of great help, but they will support you in a personal matter while your father's assistants will in his business." He paused, met her eye again, and held her stare. "I have faith you will prevail."
"Tis kind of you," she replied blankly. "But you don't know my brother like I do. He has his pride, the family pride." She looked at him straight in the eye. "Mr. Wayne, my father mentioned you had suspicions about something. May I inquire what is it about?"
He blinked slowly, clearing considering her request.
"At this point, my suspicions are just conjuncture. I have nothing to prove what I believe to be true." He looked at her in the eye and added softly: "Do watch yourself around Mr. Luthor the next time you meet him. Give him absolutely no reason to encourage him to discuss with you or your sisters. I believe him to be dangerous to your family."
He sounded genuinely worried. All Diana could do was to nod her agreement. A moment passed before she finally regained her mind and whispered:
"I should return to Jason's room."
He said nothing. Instead, he brought her hand to his mouth, pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. Diana quickly stood and headed back inside, heart beating fast. She needed to stay away –better, to return to Themyscira. The damn man was too charming for his own good. Yes, Themyscira was a reasonable direction. Lyla had asked for her return and she wanted to discuss things further with her father. She would not be escaping his presence, just…retreating. Yes indeed, retreating, because now she had responsibilities to endorse, and staying here would not help matters. Definitively not running from the intensity of his eyes and the heart pounding in her ears…
Now if only she could make it true…
POP
Donna stormed down the staircase when she spotted the carriage entering their garden. Diana had barely set a foot down that she threw her arms around her elder sister and held tight.
"I am so very happy to see you," she blurted immediately. "You have been sorely missed here."
No more aggressive Artemis to fend off, no more inquisitive enquiries from Alexa. Persephone had returned in the middle of the afternoon the previous day and relieved her duty of greeting guests. As the eldest and only member of the family available, Donna had often been requested to oversee some tasks –and she promised herself to get more involved in the household management, because she would not be caught unaware again. They were far more numerous than she believed.
"Thank you Donna," her sister replied with a tired smile. "Tell me, how is father?"
She stepped aside, took her arms and pulled her straight towards the house.
"He will want to see you after you have freshened up," she informed her. "How are you? How was your stay in Gotham? Please tell me you explored a little. Many people know about Wayne house in town, but nothing about the country home!"
As she intended, Diana smiled, amused by her question.
"I did, and the manor is a very pleasant place." She turned more serious. "How much do you know about the current situation?"
Donna rolled her eyes –has she even read Lyla's letters?
"You mean do I know father nearly passed with the news of Jason's accident? I was there when he collapsed. Do I know Mr. Wayne is aware of everything? Yep. Do I know Jason is close to make an enemy out of Mr. Luthor? I spoke to Luthor, rather rudely at that, so I suspect he will not keep me close to heart either. Do I know Mr. Wayne suspects Luthor wants to kill our dear brother? I-"
"What?" Diana blurted, interrupting Donna's speech. "Mr. Wayne thinks-" she looked upset. "He didn't tell me."
"Mr. Grayson admitted it to me," she cut quickly, not wanting to linger on the matter, and felt herself blushing a little at the mention of the handsome young man. Lately, when distraught, Donna's thoughts had turned to remembering his handsomeness, his manners and kindness. After the interview with her father, she had been upset enough to shed a tear –she had not expected him to be so weak of health. And Mr. Grayson had attempted to comfort her with kind words, even succeeded in making her smile.
Thankfully, Diana was lost to her own thoughts and failed to notice her momentary silence.
"Mr. Wayne strongly recommended avoiding Mr. Luthor, he did not tell me how far his suspicions stretched!" she sounded upset, but Donna thought it might be Mr. Wayne not sharing his thoughts with her instead of the actual matter.
"They are mostly suspicions," she said in attempt to sooth her sister. "You have enough worries on your mind as it is."
"Such as?"
"Visiting your dear friends and tell them our family is in no danger of collapsing. I had no idea Alexa could be ruthless in her inquiries! Is she truly enamored with Jason?"
"I do not wish to entertain such thoughts at the moment," Diana retorted dryly, but Donna could sense her uneasiness. The matter had occurred to her before, then. Blast it! She was hoping not to have further visits from her older sister's friends. And Jason would have either ignored her or basked in her attentions. Although Alexa was a quiet girl, still waters ran deep and…She could not remember if her brother had the slightest inclination towards the handsome redhead.
"But you will visit them? Today?" she added pressingly. Pleasepleaseplease, she did not want to have to deal with another impromptu visit. How her elder sister could befriend such ladies was beyond her comprehension.
Diana sighed warily.
"I shall as soon as I meet with father. Do not fret Donna, my friends' bark are worse than their bites."
"Perhaps to you," Donna muttered under her breath. "Off to changing you go. Cook made your favorite pie. Shall I have some brought to you?"
Diana smiled, thanked her and told her she would wander down herself. So Donna left her to her own devices, wandered towards Lyla's bedroom instead.
Her younger sibling had received another handful of letters this morning. She sometimes disclosed information on their content, mostly to amuse her siblings, sometimes when gossip was at play. Her family indulged her as a pastime, but now, information from her various could prove to be valuable.
She found her sister in her bedroom, sitting at her desk, going through a stack of papers. The paper for her letters awaited on her desk, near her pen and ink.
"So, what is the news from your friends?" she inquired lightly, thought her question had nothing innocent.
The blonde shrugged in return.
"Nothing concerns us in the town gossip yet. Barbara claims her father has been investigating a group of con men. They have arrived straight from the colonies and been actively acting by businessmen and young traders, selling partials drawings of uncompleted engines and promising to deliver the rest once the investment has been made." She paused. "Do you still study the making of engines on your spare time?"
"I lost my portfolio at Mrs. Beaumont' teashop," she admitted, displeased at the memory. The loss had stung; many of her sketches and drafts would never be recovered. "Carelessness on my part, I left quite abruptly one day. I suppose a young lady took it, though she would have little use for it. My drawings are not good enough to pass as real plans, if that is what you were asking."
Lyla huffed.
"I was merely inquiring." She returned her attention on her letters. "Do you believe we could return to London one afternoon?"
Donna hummed, thinking.
"You ought to ask Persephone, but I assume there will be no trouble. Do you have an errand?"
Her sister pinched her lips guiltily.
"I have begun a correspondence with a girl from the colonies, Miss Kent. She invites me for tea in her house in London." She added softly. "I really want to go."
Donna raised an eyebrow.
"Your health is still precarious," she pointed out. "And London is not an ideal place for you. Why don't you invite her-" she paused and recalled the situation of her family. "Never mind. You still need to ask Persephone if she is willing to let you go one afternoon. I will volunteer to accompany you, if that is agreeable to your friend. Perhaps Diana will want to go too, if only to visit father's office."
Lyla nodded, though she looked quite unconvinced.
"I wonder what father and Diana are speaking of," she said. "I hope the situation isn't as dire as I think it is." She met her eyes. "Can you truly not tell me anything?"
Donna lowered her eyes, considering her sister's request. Her health was poor enough, she did not need more distressing news. Unfortunately, withholding information seemed to upset her just as well. She moved to sit on the bed, wondering how much her sister ought to know, and deciding that as she knew very much already, she might as well know all.
POP
The clock chimed twice when Mr. Fox pushed the door of his study open. The arrival of Miss Lois Lane was expected. The arrival of a Mr. Kent was not. Bruce stood and kissed the back of the hand of his longtime friend. Her male follower was approached with much more caution. Clark Kent was tall, perhaps as tall as he, dark-haired and of pleasing disposition. They respectively bowed cordially, although he thought the man might have narrowed his eyes at the familiarity he showed the lady.
Before he could explain his presence, Lois spoke up:
"Well Bruce, please meet Mr. Kent, my fiancé."
Had Bruce not known Miss Lane never joked about the marriage state, he might have sniggered. Instead, he considered the newcomer with a different eye. The groom-to-be was definitively frowning. Whether it be at the use of his first name and the suspicion of the degree of intimacy between them or her introduction, he was not certain.
"Lois and I have been acquainted ever since she made her debuts," he said lightly before turning his attention back to the woman. "I am surprised you are to be married. Allow me to guess, you were caught in a compromising position and Mr. Kent here had to step up?"
The man flushed red wile Lois rolled her eyes. Her own cheeks had tinted pink.
"I was investigating the comings and goings of Lady Isey. She has been suspected of poisoning her husband with her own plants."
"And?"
"And I would love it better if I had more evidence. Cla- Mr. Kent and I sneaked into her greenhouse to find the plant responsible for Lord Isey's death. Unfortunately, her groomsman found us and…"
"You had to improvise." He smirked. "I have always wondered how you would ever be pushed to the altar. Your uncle must have not been happy."
Lois snorted again and her fiancé's expression softened.
"I never believed a man could turn such a shade of purple," she said blankly, and this time, Bruce laughed. As Lois did not appear worse for wear, he deduced she could not be too upset about the final arrangement. "You asked for my presence in your manor," she went on. "I am here and listening."
He gestured to the seats across his desk. The two visitors sat. Tea was offered and declined, so they approached the business at hand.
"What do you know about Luthor?" he asked directly.
His friend immediately peeked up and the same dangerous sparkle light in Lois' eye. Mr. Kent seemed suddenly far more interested.
"Do you have anything to say about him?" the man finally spoke calmly. Bruce was not fooled for a moment. He recognized the same eagerness for information that his fiancée possessed. Perhaps it was not a bad thing that Lois had ended up tied to a man who shared her qualities.
"He may have attempted to kill a direct competitor over a business over," Bruce said slowly. "An offer that, may I add, is very likely to be a sham."
"Do you have any evidence?" Mr. Kent asked, eyebrows frowning. Lois waved her hand to silence him.
"The name of the schemers please," she demanded.
Bruce pulled a paper where Dick had written the three names and addresses he knew of, both from his own experience and from Jason's.
"The names may be fakes," he went on. "Richard met the two first. The unfortunate competitor met the third."
"Murder is a serious accusation, Mr. Wayne," Mr. Kent went on. "You are giving very little to get on with."
Once again, Lois tapped his forearm.
"Bruce would have never called me if he only had names. What else?"
"There is a ball upcoming at Fitzroy's Town house next week. Luthor, the competitor and myself will be present; I am hoping to trigger a reaction then." He smirked as he pulled two invitations and put them on the desk. "If you could witness and report, I would be truly grateful."
Mr. Kent's eyes popped wide open. Lois merely laughed.
"I genuinely hope you were not expecting to invite me as your escort," she said with a grin. "I have my own partner."
"Why would a Lord give another invitation to a private ball to someone like you?" Mr. Kent blurted quite straightforwardly.
The woman rolled her eyes –yet again. Bruce leaned back in his seat, amused.
"Clark," and the man blushed at the use of his first name in company. "You have recently arrived from the colonies. You truly need to get acclimated to the inside working of English wealth system. My dear Bruce here," she pointed at him, "is one of the wealthiest men of England –and he is no aristocrat! Many Lords and Dukes and other titled ones hate him for that."
"I do possess a lucrative business," Bruce replied with false modesty. Mr. Kent's frown reappeared. Bruce thought he might enjoy riling him up in the future.
"So if he wants Lord Fitzroy to issue an extra invitation for his particular friend, Lord Fitzroy will issue an extra invitation for his particular friend and give it to him in person."
"Actually, they came through express this morning," Bruce retorted with a hint of a smile. "I believe Lady Isey is also invited."
He had Lois right there. The possibility of following up two scandals was too great of an opportunity to pass off. He could have added that Oliver Fitzroy was a genuine friend and loved inviting scandals-in-the-waiting amongst crowds in hope of a fabulously distracting evening. Lois would smell a huge opportunity to attend the best gossiping events –and harass him until he sought invitations in her name. While a great ally, the enthusiastic investigator could be a little too…enthusiastic.
His friend took the invitations wearing a Cheshire cat grin. Mr. Kent looked a little less certain.
"I shall see you next week, Mr. Wayne," she said as she stood up. "Do you intend to come alone or bring Miss Troy? Rumors say Miss Kyle is distraught to have been replaced."
And that was exactly why he both admired and stood wary of Lois Lane. Her contacts and skill for fishing out gossip were unparalleled. Instead of hiding the sudden unease the question brought, he replied:
"Who knows what might happen, one week is a long time."
It was not an answer but for Lois, an answer enough. She had suspected his interest the moment he had spoken of Ludendorff's outrageous behavior towards her. Though his intimate life was not a subject she tended to linger over, she never missed the opportunity to guess who his next paramour might be. It could have been amusing, had he not actually held Miss Troy in a complete different regard.
Lois left, quickly followed by Mr. Kent, and Bruce lost his smile. His guest was still recovering in his room. He would soon need a conversation with the Troy heir and convince him to go along with the upcoming plan...