“There was a fire at Brokerwood in Frome.” Diana’s voice grew quiet at the end of her statement, noting the way Gilbert looked up sharply at her words, turning to rest his eyes on her at last. “People were hurt.”
“You thought it would interest me?”
“Doesn’t it?” Diana asked, frowning at her husband. “That is three fires in our area. Two of which were your tenants, were they not? Is it not worrying to us that there are arson attacks on our land –”
“What did you say?” Gilbert’s voice was quiet but sharp. The words made any confidence Diana had felt before wither inside her. She hung her head a little, listening to Owen’s footsteps as he walked into the room.
“Your port, Your Grace,” Owen spoke quickly, apparently trying to interrupt the conversation.
Gilbert took the glass from his hands but said nothing, not even a nod of courtesy or a thank you.
“You may leave us.” Gilbert pointed to the door, yet Owen didn’t leave straight away. It captured both Diana’s and Gilbert’s attention, looking at him in surprise. “Is there a problem, Mr Arnold?”
“I was just going to ask if there was anything else you need, Your Grace.” Owen’s voice was calm, though Diana could read him quite well by now. There was a tenseness to him that he was keeping at bay. “Perhaps a drink for Her Grace.” He turned to Diana, but before she could say anything, Gilbert spoke up.
“That will not be necessary. Thank you. You may go.” Gilbert gestured to the door again. This time, Owen had no choice but to follow the orders. The door closed behind him as he left, but Diana didn’t hear his footsteps leaving across the hallway. Even if they were there, Gilbert talked before she could hear anything. “How do you know what lands I own, Diana?”
She realized her mistake, lowering her hands down to the settee beneath her. She had only learned that Haymarket and Avon Acres were owned by Gilbert thanks to Owen’s questioning.
“People talk,” she said, attempting to brush it off as gossip, yet her smile didn’t last long to make it convincing. “Our servants often gossip. I heard one of them say it was your land.”
“Let us understand something, Diana.” Gilbert gulped his port and abruptly placed the glass on the table nearby, hearing it chink and echo around the room. “What did I ask of you when we married?”
“Obedience.” She practically whispered the word.
“What was that?” Gilbert asked, crossing the room towards her so fast that she leaned back in her seat.
“Obedience,” she said, louder this time.
“That starts with not pushing your nose into my affairs.” Gilbert reached for her wrist, snatching her hand off the settee and gripping it so tightly that her hand instantly ached.
“Gilbert, you’re hurting me –”
“I do not want you mentioning the fires again, nor my tenants, Diana.” He leaned down over her, using the grip he had on her wrist to make sure she couldn’t escape and wriggle away. She backed as far away as she could, sinking into the cushions of the chair.
“I was only asking. I was worried about them – Gilbert, they’re hurt –”
“Then that is their own problem, not yours. You will not mention any of this again. You will keep yourself to this house, you will not ask about my business, and you will not talk of these fires.” He practically spat the words, dragging her off the chair with her wrist making her yelp in pain.
She fell to the floor as he released her, landing with her forearms on the hard wood, creating long bruises spanning the lengths of her lower arms. “To think I have returned to this house, to you. It’s not the marriage I hoped for.”
“Nor for me,” she whispered so quietly that he could not hear her.
He walked across the room, striking the floor so loudly with his heels that the first tears Diana shed were muffled by the sound. He strode out the door, clattering the wood shut behind him, leaving Diana to pull herself forward on the floor, cradling her arms in her lap and wincing against the pain.
She was not sure how long she had been sitting there, but it couldn’t have been for long, for the door crept open, and someone tiptoed into the room. She looked up, blinking past her tears to see Owen was approaching her.
“Owen?” she whispered. “If he sees you here –”
“Right now, after hearing all of that, I’ll take the risk.” He sank onto the floor beside her and reached out for her, pulling her into his arms. Diana wrapped her arms around his neck, wincing against the bruises she could feel developing there. With her head nestled in his shoulder, she cried softly, praying the sound of her tears would keep Gilbert away all evening.
It must have worked, for she and Owen sat there together for what had to be an hour at least, with him comforting her as she shed tears intermittently.
“He arranged for the fires, didn’t he?” she said, sniffing and trying to stop her tears.
“It would explain why he doesn’t want you asking about them. That’s not just control, Diana. It’s fear too. He doesn’t want what he’s done to be discovered.”
“Wh-what has he done, though?” she asked, stammering through her tears. “Why burn down his own tenants’ homes?”
