Chapter 4 – Confrontations and Confessions

Diana’s steps halted just outside the lounge.

Inside, she recognized voices all too well: a group making a ruckus on sofas. Center stage: a man she knew.

“Lady Wellington may be quite pretty—but we nobles don’t choose life partners based on looks alone.”
“Especially House Crawford evaluates partners thoroughly. Not even knowing that is shameful,”

Carmine Pierce and Mio Campbell—well-known socialites, and their voices cut sharply.

Diana clenched her jaw as gossip tumbled. When she stepped in:

“Please explain precisely what you meant about my father.”

Silence descended as she crossed the doorway. Two or three young ladies turned pale.

Carmine and his fiancée tried to play it off with sneers, but Diana calmly confronted them:

“How shameless—eavesdropping and gossiping, hoping I’d just ignore it?”
“Laughing about my father so loudly you might break the window—were you counting on silence?”

Carmine seethed, Mio fumed. Diana’s gaze held steady as her words pierced.

“We’ll never know what’s beneath appearances. But families like yours seem to learn mockery before honor.”

Her final jab left them speechless. Carmine leaned threateningly close.

“Miss Wellington, you should learn when to stay quiet—before beauty becomes careless.”
“Need me to teach you first-hand?”

Just as tension peaked, a calm voice interjected.

“Excuse me… Dinner is served downstairs. You may wish to join the banquet hall.”

Standing nearby was the Valentine Viscount, blond and impeccably suited. His tone cool but courteous.

The lounge emptied quickly as Carmine and others slunk out. All that remained was Diana and the Viscount.

He took a step forward:

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Her answer firm: “Yes, I’m okay.”

He offered quietly:

“If you’d like, you may rest upstairs—the second-floor lounge is rarely used and quiet.”

Diana softly accepted.

Upstairs, she sank into a small, dim lounge. Relief washed over her—

She was tired. Exhausted by preparation, social acting, confrontation, and smug onlookers.

Why does Mio Campbell always pick fights with me? she wondered, sniffing at the lingering perfume.

She rose and walked onto the balcony. The fresh evening air cleared her head.

But then came hurried footsteps below—and a desperate voice calling:

“Young Duke!”
“I waited until you contacted me—now nothing is resolved!”

And then she realized: the speaker arguing with Ian was none other than Ian himself.

She froze.

Back in the present moment.

Ian turned to her with dark red eyes like a predator.

“Did you hear our earlier conversation?”

Diana felt like she could vanish.