Page 41 of Duke of Storme
“Is this your way of offering me a lesson?”
Diana lifted her chin. “It is not an offer, Your Grace. It’s a neccecity.”
“I see. And what makes it a necessity?”
“Because a Duke of Storme requires the social skills to match his title when he’s in London. Because I’ll not have you retreating to the edges of ballrooms when you should be commanding them. Because you are far more capable than you realize, and it’s time you learned to show it, Your Grace.”
“How presumtious. Your confidence in my… social abilities is overwhelming.”
“My confidence in you isn’t the issue. It’s your comfort with London’s expectations that need work. Especially since I suspectwhen confronted with the ton’s scrutiny, you’ll retreat behind that wall of Highland indifference again.”
The comment stung like a wasp’s bite, sharp and unexpectedly painful.
“Ah. I see.” Finn tried to keep his voice level despite the hurt that flared in his chest. “And how do you propose to remedy that?”
“By teaching you what it truly means to be a London duke in society. Starting with hosting.” She moved to the desk and retrieved a folded paper. “Here’s the guest list for a formal dinner we should host before we depart for London. You’ll help me plan it. All of it.”
Finn took the list with reluctant fingers, scanning the names with wariness rather than confidence. “How many courses?”
“What?”
“How many courses would be appropriate for guests of this caliber? And what topics of conversation would ye avoid with Lord MacPherson? He barely touched his food at the Inverthistle ball when someone dared to mention cattle tariffs.
Diana’s eyebrows rose slightly, genuine surprise flickering across her features. “You noticed that?”
“I notice a great many things, Wife.” He moved toward the writing desk, making notes. “What about wine pairin’s? Scottish whisky with the final course?”
“Whatever you think best.”
“And the seatin’ arrangements – Lord MacKenzie and Mr. MacTavish had quite the heated discussion about cattle breedin’. Should I separate them, or place them together? Sometimes allowin’ men to debate can be entertaining to the other guests.”
“Youwant to seat them together. Deliberately?”
“Why not? If they argue anyway, we might as well make it entertainin’. Besides, Lady MacKenzie finds her husband’s agricultural opinions tedious, if I recall. This would free her for more… stimulating conversation, do ye not agree?”
Diana simply stared at him, studying his face with the careful attention usually reserved for her sketches. But there was something in his expression – a curious concoction of uncertainty and something else that she couldn’t quite identify – that made her suddenly feel more confident.
“Have I said something wrong?” Finn asked.
“No.” Her voice carried a warmth neither of them had heard before. “No, you haven’t. Quite the contrary.”
“I hope I haven’t overstepped, Your Grace.”
“Not at all,” Finn said, his voice soft.
“Then why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’ve never seen me before.” The morning light streaming in through the salon windows caught the silver flecks in his eyes, and Diana found herself unable to look away from the intensity burning there.
Finn was quiet for a long moment, his eyes studying her face with an intensity that made heat crawl up her neck. The space between them seemed to crackle with unspoken tension as though the very air had become charged with an electrical current somehow. “Maybe I haven’t”
The words drifted through the air between them, heavy with implication and possibility, until Diana forced herself to look back at the guest list. Her fingers trembled slightly as she picked up the quill again. “Well, I should see to these arrangements.”
“Aye. Ye should.” His voice was softer now.
Neither of them moved to leave. The silence stretched and ebbed between them, filled only by the distant sound of Highland wind against the windows and the rapid beating of Diana’s heart.
