Page 49 of Duke of Storme
Then she was gone, leaving Finn alone in the blue drawing room with the afternoon sunlight slanting through the windows and the echo of her words ringing through the halls.
CHAPTER 15
“Will our lessons continue today, Your Grace?”
Diana stood in the doorway of the estate study, watching as Finn’s dark head remained bent over the endless correspondence scattered across his mahogany desk.
He didn’t look up immediately. His attention was apparently absorbed by whatever missive lay before him. But Diana caught the slight tension that crept into his shoulders at her question and she saw the way his fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around his quill.
“Ye’re improving,” he said finally, still not meeting her gaze. “But ye’re no’ ready yet.”
“Not ready for what, precisely?” Diana moved into the room uninvited. Her pale blue morning dress rustled softly against the leather-bound volumes that lined the walls from top to bottomas she walked past their shelves. “Yesterday you said I was better. Today I’m somehow insufficient again?”
Finn set his quill down with deliberate precision. The small sound it made echoed in the quiet space. When he finally looked up, his gray-blue eyes carried that shuttered expression she’d come to recognize well – the look of a man preparing his defenses.
“Ye’re sufficient for Highland society,” he said carefully. “But London… London requires nothin’ less than perfection.”
“Does it?” Diana settled herself in the chair across from his desk, noting how his jaw tightened at her presumption. “Or is it thatyourequire perfection from me?”
“I require competence.”
“No.” Diana’s voice remained gentle, but there was grit beneath the silk. “You require flawlessness. There’s a big difference, Your Grace, and we both know it fully well.”
Finn leaned back in his chair, his expression growing more guarded with each word he spoke. “Ye don’t understand the stakes.”
“Then explain them to me.” Diana folded her hands in her lap and studied his face with the careful attention she usually reserved for her sketches. “Why does it matter so much to youthat I perform perfectly in public? Why are you so determined to transform me into something I am not?”
“I’m not transformin’ ye into anythin’. I’m simply… refinin’ what’s already there.”
“Like polishing silver?”
Something flickered across his features – surprise, perhaps, or reluctant amusement. “Aye. Something’ like that.”
“How flattering,” Diana’s tone carried just enough dry humor to make his mouth twitch. “But you realize you still haven’t answered my question, Your Grace.”
Finn blinked at her. “Which question?”
“Why does my potential failure terrify you so completely?”
The word ‘terrify’ hit its mark. Finn’s expression hardened instantly, his military bearing reasserting itself like armor sliding into place.
“I’m no’ terrified of anythin’.”
“Aren’t you?” Diana leaned forward slightly. Her brown eyes never left his face. “Because from where I sit, you seem absolutely convinced that I’m going to embarrass you. That I’m going to prove inadequate to the task of being your Duchess.”
“‘Tis because appearances matter.” The words came out sharp and clipped.
“Do they? Or is it something more than that? Help me understand.”
Finn stood abruptly then retreated to the window with that controlled stride she knew so well. If not for the rigid set of his shoulders, his pose might have looked casual.
“Ye don’t know what ye’re askin’.”
“I am asking my husband to trust me enough to tell me the truth.” Diana’s voice remained soft, coaxing rather than demanding. “I am asking you to explain why my triumph or failure matters so much to a man who claims our marriage is nothing more than a convenient arrangement.”
“It is a convenient arrangement.”
“Then why do you care what anyone thinks of me? If this marriage truly means that little to you, if I am truly nothing more than a social necessity, then why does the prospect of me making a misstep keep you awake at night?”
