Chapter Three - Life & Death
Looking at herself in the mirror, Diana stared at the pale creature she saw there. Dressed in black from head to toe, her white skin in stark contrast to the gloom of her gown, her gloves, her scarf, her hat, she felt as though dead.
Had she died and no one had told her?
For a moment, her lids closed and then opened, and her gaze focused on the pale blue colour of her eyes, the only colour in an otherwise colourless apparition.
No, it was her husband who had died, and yet, she could not say she knew how. No one had told her. After all, she was a woman, and women were shielded from the ugliness of the world. They were not strong. They could not bear the weight of knowing the truth.
At least that’s what she had been told.
Not in such direct terms, of course, but Diana had understood nonetheless. What she also understood was that it was a lie.
A lie that was not meant to protect her, to shield her, but instead to protect her late husband’s reputation for although no one had breathed a word of the circumstances of his demise in her presence, Diana knew very well why that was the case.
Her husband had died in the arms of his mistress.
And although rumours probably already ran rampant, Diana knew that once the initial shock had died down, it would not be her husband who would be held accountable. If the past few years had taught Diana anything, it was that blame was rarely bestowed where it was deserved.
Even today, the day of her husband’s funeral, Diana knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that she, his widow, would not receive sympathy for losing him, for the circumstances of his death. She would not be pitied. She would not be comforted and consoled.
No, eventually she would be blamed. Maybe not for causing his death outright, but for driving him into the arms of a mistress, for not being the kind of wife whom her husband would have deserved, for failing him.
Diana’s heart sank at the thought of what awaited her.
Would it ever end?
Or would only death set her free?
Not her husband’s.
But her own.
***
Returning home from the funeral, Diana realised she had barely heard a word that had been spoken, barely remembered a face she had seen. It was as though she saw everything through a black veil. Faces looked distorted and indistinct. Voices sounded muffled and dulled in comparison to the constant thoughts coursing through her head.
All she could focus on was: what now?
“Are you all right?”
Lifting her head, Diana blinked, turning toward the familiar voice. A moment later, Rose’s face came into focus, her brows drawn down in concern. “Do you need to lie down?”
Diana took a deep breath. “I’m fine,” she whispered, wondering what that meant.
Glancing at the other mourners, Rose drew her aside and led her into the library where they were out of earshot. “Please, Diana, tell me what I can do to help you.”
Forcing her thoughts to focus, Diana looked at her cousin, noting the signs of honest distress and concern, and a slow smile came to Diana’s face. “Thank you, dear Rose.” Then she shook her head. “But there is nothing you can do. My fate is sealed. It has been these past four years. Nothing will ever change.”
Rose swallowed, her eyes slightly narrowing, and Diana could see that her cousin had meant something else. “You were referring to my husband’s death?”
Rose nodded. “How do you feel?”
“You know better than anyone that I did not love him,” Diana said, her voice slowly growing stronger as a sense of impatience washed over her. For the past four years, she had done her best to appear the devoted wife, and yet, it had done her no good. Would she now have to continue as the devoted widow for the rest of her life?
Rose sighed. “I do know, yes. But lately, you seemed less…displeased with him,” she stated carefully, her bright green eyes searching Diana’s face. “At first, you were so forceful in your rejection of him, that I had hoped you would have come to care for−”
“I gave up!” Diana interrupted, surprised by her sudden outburst and the one lonely tear that spilled over and slowly ran down her cheek. Swallowing, she held her cousin’s pitying gaze. Maybe pity was worse than blame after all! “I gave up,” she repeated quietly, stepping back as Rose reached out a comforting hand toward her. “I do not know how to live this life as I am forced to pretend from sunup to sundown.” She shook her head in resignation. “I didn’t have the strength to hold on to the woman I once was and still attempt to please my husband. At some point, I suppose I stopped caring. Or at least, I tried to.”
“Oh, Diana, I’m so sorry,” Rose exclaimed, her arms once more rising with the intention to comfort. However, when she saw Diana’s rigid posture, she let them drop once more. “I had no idea you felt that way. How could I not have seen it?”
A wistful smile came to Diana’s face. “Because you’re happy,” she said, remembering the blissful ignorance of those early days when she had believed herself in love. “You married the man I wanted. He refused me, but he chose you.”
“I’m so sorry,” Rose whispered once again, tears brimming in her eyes as she wrung her hands, desperate for something to do, to help, and still knowing that there was no such thing.
“It was not your fault,” Diana said, wondering when she had come to that conclusion.
In the first year after Rose had married Lord Norwood, Diana had despised her with all her heart for her betrayal. However, slowly over time, Rose’s gentle insistence to remain in Diana’s life had worn her down, had breached her defences…and today Diana was glad for it for Rose was the only one she dared to speak to and hold nothing back.
“It was not your fault,” she repeated. “It was mine. I know now that I acted wrongly, and yet, I still feel that the punishment I suffered was too severe. It still is.” Diana drew in a deep breath. “You know how he did, do you not?” she asked, noting the slight paleness that came to Rose’s cheeks as she averted her eyes.
“What he did was far worse, and yet, it doesn’t matter. Soon, it’ll be forgotten. Maybe referred to here and there as a hushed whisper, but people will not think less of him. Not truly. Not the way they think less of me.” Shaking her head, Diana fought down the urge to grab a book off the shelf beside her and hurl it at the wall with all her might. “Tell me that’s fair! Tell me that I deserve this! Because the more I learn about the life I am forced to live, the less I understand it. And I don’t know what to do next. I simply don’t know. Tell me, Rose, what am I to do?”