Someone that adores him, who would be faithful, who would be true.” She threw down the paper with such vigour that Diana pushed herself off the windowsill with shaking hands, realizing what was being said.
“Are you not the woman sharing my husband’s bed, Jessie?” Diana asked, carefully walking across the room, getting closer and closer to Jessie. “How can you talk of faithfulness when you have seen my own husband being unfaithful? How could you judge me of something you cannot even be sure of when you have committed such a crime yourself?”
“He deserves to be loved! Not betrayed like this!” Jessie’s voice was getting louder, making Diana look to the doorway with nervousness. It showed what Jessie thought. Unfaithfulness wasn’t what bothered her; it was the idea that Gilbert could be married to another woman at all.
“Oh my …” Diana gasped, stepping so close to Jessie that she could see unshed tears in the maid’s eyes. “You are in love with Gilbert, are you not?” she asked. Jessie didn’t answer, but her breath hitched, showing she was on the precipice of giving way to her tears. She latched her hand over her mouth, stopping the tears from falling.
Diana practically shivered at the idea. She couldn’t understand how anyone could fall in love with Gilbert, but the tears Jessie was trying to fight were evident.
“You are in love with the duke,” Diana said again. Jessie went to snatch the sketch she had dropped from the floor, but Diana got there first. She picked it up and held it to her chest with both hands, not bearing the thought of letting the maid touch it another time. It was a sketch done by Owen, from a sweet and kind man. It shouldn’t be sullied by someone else’s anger.
“This ends now,” Jessie said, smiling through her tears a little. “Once the duke knows of what you have done, he’ll have to send you away. Maybe you’ll even get an annulment. Then he can marry again.”
Diana’s lips parted in surprise. Knowing she had consummated the marriage, there was no chance of an annulment.
“Did Gilbert say he wished to marry you?”
“He wishes to! I know he does,” Jessie said, practically stamping her foot like a petulant child. “If it wasn’t for you, we could be happy together. We wouldn’t have to hide in the shadows, as though what we are doing is so wrong.”
Diana knew that feeling, but with Owen, not Gilbert.
“Ever since you were married, he has been with me.Me.Notyou.His cold, unfeeling wife.”
“Cold?” Diana said in surprise. “Have you met Gilbert?” she asked, but Jessie didn’t seem to hear her. Gilbert was the very definition of cold to her mind; clearly, Jessie did not agree.
“We, at last, have a way to be rid of you.” Jessie stepped forward, trying to snatch the paper from Diana’s hands another time, but she wouldn’t let her.
“Do not come near me.” Diana’s voice was shaky, despite finding the courage to give such an order. Jessie hovered back, clearly thinking through whether to defy her duchess or not, then she leapt forward, trying to take the parchment out of her hands. “No!”
Diana ran around the settee and chairs, still clutching the parchment, desperate to keep it away from the maid.
“It does not matter. I will still tell the duke of what you have done.” Jessie’s voice followed her as Diana flung open the door. “When he gets back in a few days …” Jessie paused, making Diana hesitate in the doorway, feeling her own tears prickle at her eyes and threaten to fall. “Trust in that,Your Grace.You will be knocked off your fine perch then. The duke will know all, and you will be thrown out, a ruined woman and a memory of the past.”
Diana tried to argue against her, but Jessie was speaking so loudly that Diana couldn’t argue with her.
“Things will be as they should have always been!”
Diana didn’t let her get any further; she hurried out of the door as quickly as she could, crossing through the corridor and heading for the servants’ staircase. She didn’t care if she was seen anymore. If Jessie knew, then it was highly likely that every other maid and footman in the place would know by sundown.
She took the servants’ stairs two at a time before reaching the bottom floor, only to nearly collide with the cook.
“Your Grace!” He jumped back, so frightened to have done so that he didn’t just bow once to her, but twice. “Your Grace, I am so sorry. I didn’t expect to find you down here –”
“You are not to blame,” she said reassuringly. “I am sorry to intrude on this area. It’s just I …” She hesitated, looking up and down the corridor. It was empty, only she and Tommie were there, but she was nervous now. Asking where she would find Owen would be a revelatory thing indeed.
“I believe you will find him in the wine cellar, Your Grace,” Tommie said softly. “This way.” He beckoned her to follow. Before Diana could ask how he knew, she hurried after him, remembering something of what Owen had said once of the cook suspecting what was between them. “Down there, Your Grace. He is quite alone.”
“Thank you. You are very kind,” she said gently to the cook. He nodded at her and turned to stride down the corridor, whistling to himself.
Diana walked down the steps as carefully as she could, only realizing when she got to the bottom step that she still had Owen’s sketch clutched tightly in her hands. There seemed little point hiding it now, so she kept it between her palms as she stumbled across the stone floor and through the doorway that led to the wine cellar.
“Owen?” she called softly, looking between the vaulted arches. At first, she couldn’t see him, and the memory of what had just happened with Jessie’s threat came bubbling to the surface, making tears fall down her cheeks. As she tried to call for him again, the tears closed up her throat, and she began to cry.
“Diana?” His voice came gently from the other side of the wine cellar before his eyes alighted on her, then it became panicked. “What has happened?” He ran across the cellar, appearing from behind stacks of wine bottles to run to her side. As he reached out to her, she went urgently to him, one hand still clutching the sketch while the other reached for him.
“Sh-she knows,” she stammered through her tears.
“What?” he asked, his handsome face creasing into a frown.
