Chapter 36
“Lyle Grant—that damn bastard must’ve been running his mouth all over the place.”
The Marquis ground his teeth in anger as he muttered.
This was something only he and Duke Grant had known. If rumors were spreading, it meant one of them had spoken carelessly—and since he himself hadn’t, the culprit was obvious.
“If you offered that much of a dowry to the Grant family, surely you’ll prepare an even larger amount when arranging a marriage for our family?”
The young men they had met today had all demanded sums ranging from five to ten times higher.
The Marchioness, having come to her senses, instantly turned sharp and cold.
“Don’t be ridiculous. The money that went to that lowly girl was the last of it.”
“I agree. I’ve no intention of spending another coin on her.”
Even hearing the word money made the Marchioness tremble with fury.
“At this rate, we should do as I said before—send that girl off to a convent!” she shouted at her husband.
If Diane’s marriage required more money, that meant less inheritance for her sons.
“I won’t stand for this, so you’d better handle it yourself. I swear, you people are trying to drive me mad!”
Bang!
The Marchioness stormed out, slamming the door so hard it nearly broke, and stomped off to her room. The Marquis let out a long, weary sigh, his face twisted in irritation.
By afternoon, the Marquis had told his wife to take Diane along to the afternoon tea party she was attending.
At that, the Marchioness looked appalled.
“Why on earth should I attend a tea party with her? Have you lost your mind?”
“I said take her.”
“I refuse! I told you already—send her to the convent tomorrow!”
The Marquis scowled.
“Think before you speak. Do you want to make a scandal out of this family?”
“What scandal? What do you mean?”
“Word must have spread all over the capital that nearly twenty suitors came to our estate today! How would it look if we sent Diane to a convent now?”
The Marchioness fell silent.
He was right. With nearly twenty men proposing, there was no justification to lock Diane away.
“But we can’t possibly spend that kind of money.”
“I know. I’ll think of a solution. For now, just take her with you. Tell people what happened today—it’ll make a fine story. Having Diane there will look good for the family.”
Nearly twenty suitors! Even without mentioning the dowry issue, that alone was something to boast about. The Marchioness’s eyes glimmered slightly.
Among noble ladies, raising a daughter well was considered a great virtue. She had never given Diane love, but twenty proposals? That was as dazzling as a fine jewel or a luxurious gown.
“…Fine.”
Pretending to give in, the Marchioness nodded.
Diane fidgeted with her hands. Going out with the Marchioness was unusual—normally, she was warned well in advance. This sudden outing made her nervous.
“Hurry up and get in the carriage, will you? We’ll be late because of you.”
From inside the carriage, the Marchioness glared down at her impatiently.
Startled, Diane climbed in quickly. Even after the carriage began to move, the Marchioness’s sharp tone continued.
“You.”
“Y-yes?”
“Lift your head and stop fiddling with your skirt. Do you think I’m going to eat you? Honestly, such fussing. Are you planning to act like that in front of others too?”
“N-no, ma’am. I’m sorry. I won’t.”
Diane smoothed out the wrinkles in her skirt. The Marchioness clicked her tongue.
“Even fine clothes look cheap on you. I suppose breeding really can’t be hidden. Now you see why I hate spending money on your dresses?”
Her eyes narrowed as she delivered her usual threat.
“If you say anything foolish today, you can forget about dinner.”
Diane nodded, a faint, almost invisible smile touching her lips.
No dinner tonight?
It was a worn-out threat she’d heard since childhood, and today it sounded almost laughable.
Skipping one meal was hardly a punishment anymore.
The Marchioness still thought such a thing could scare her—proof that she’d never truly paid attention to Diane at all.
“I’ll be careful, Mother.”
The word Mother made the Marchioness’s face twist in disgust.
She was burning with the urge to get rid of that girl entirely. How had things come to this? Not wanting to exchange another word, she turned her gaze sharply to the window.
“Oh my, Marchioness of Redwood! You’ve arrived!”
Countess Diber’s overly enthusiastic voice rang out as she hurried forward to greet her.
With a sweet, practiced smile, the Marchioness replied warmly—her venomous expression from the carriage vanished as though it had never existed.
Playing the part of a doting mother, she took Diane’s arm affectionately.
“I brought my daughter with me today. I hope that’s all right?”
“Oh! Of course, how lovely! The more, the merrier at a tea party. Wait just a moment—I’ll have the butler bring another chair!”
“Oh? You must have quite the crowd today,” the Marchioness remarked politely.
Countess Diber’s voice practically glowed with pride.
“Indeed! Do you know who’s come? The Duchess of Winchester herself! Can you believe it? The Duchess, at my tea party—what an honor!”
Her hands clasped together as her face took on a dreamy, ecstatic glow.
“The Duchess of Winchester?”
The Marchioness stared, dumbfounded.
Why?
Why would someone like the Duchess attend such a small gathering?
Of course, the Marchioness herself had come because she knew Countess Diber personally—but the Duchess? That was far beyond the event’s usual rank.
Still, she couldn’t ruin the host’s excitement, so she forced a pleasant smile and offered polite congratulations.
Beaming with pride, the Countess led them inside.
As they walked down the corridor, the Marchioness’s mood had soured again.
The Duchess of Winchester! With someone of that stature present, all attention would be drawn to her, not anyone else.
When they entered the room, the Duchess immediately caught the eye—sitting at the head of the table, surrounded by ladies leaning close, eager to speak to her.
The Marchioness frowned slightly. So much for bringing Diane.
But then, something unexpected happened.
The Duchess met their eyes—then rose from her seat to greet them.
“Oh my! Marchioness Redwood, you’re here! And with your lovely daughter, I see.”
The startled Marchioness quickly curtsied.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Your Grace.”
“There’s no need for such stiff formality. Ladies, could you make room, please? Marchioness, Lady Diane—come, sit here, beside me.”
The other ladies hurriedly shifted, opening the seats closest to the Duchess—an unmistakable sign of favor.
Though slightly taken aback, the Marchioness couldn’t hide her satisfaction. Sitting beside the Duchess, under so many admiring gazes, gave her a rare sense of pride.
Diane and the Marchioness took their seats and joined the refreshments.
“I’ve been meaning to meet you, my dear. We haven’t been introduced, have we? Your name is Diane, yes?”
“Yes, Your Grace. Diane Redwood.”
“My daughter speaks very fondly of you. Elaina says she’s made a sweet and graceful new friend—so kind and mature that I remembered your name right away.”
Diane’s face flushed pink. She wasn’t used to such praise, especially not in public—and coming from a woman who looked so much like Elaina, it made her feel shy and overwhelmed.
“How delightful. Truly, what loving parents you must have to raise such a lovely young lady.”
The other ladies chimed in with soft laughter and approving remarks.
As the Duchess’s gaze lingered fondly on Diane, it slowly shifted—to the Marchioness sitting beside her.
