Page 52 of Duke of Storme
“Diana! Diana, where are you hiding?”
The familiar voice echoed through the castle corridors, and Diana felt her heart leap with sudden joy. She dropped her embroidery hoop and rushed to the window of her sitting room, pressing her face to the glass like a child at Christmas.
Below in the courtyard, Jane was stepping down from a travel-worn carriage. Her dark hair escaped its pins after the long journey from London. Lydia followed more slowly, stretching her back with the careful movements of someone who’d endured hours of bumpy roads.
“Jane! Lydia!” Diana called from the window, waving enthusiastically.
Both sisters looked up. Their faces broke into similar grins that made Diana’s chest tight with emotion. How long had it beensince she’d seen them? Weeks that felt like years, during which she’d changed in ways she was barely beginning to understand.
She lifted her skirts and ran down the corridors, her slippers echoing against the cold, hard stone floors. Mrs. Glenwright emerged from the kitchens, shaking her head with fond exasperation.
“Your Grace! A Duchess doesn’t run through–”
“Today she does!” Diana called over her shoulder.
The old Diana would never have interrupted the housekeeper, would never have claimed such bold disregard for propriety. But something had shifted inside her during her time at Storme Castle. Some fundamental understanding of her own worth now made her feel less apologetic about doing what she wished.
She burst through the front doors just as her sisters reached the top of the stone steps, and suddenly she was enveloped in familiar warm embraces that smelled of lavender and home.
“Oh, how I’ve missed you both!” Diana said, squeezing them tightly. “But where’s Marian? I thought she was coming too.”
“Too heavy with child to travel comfortably,” Lydia explained with a fond smile. “She sends her love and about seventeen different pieces of advice for Highland living, along with threats of dire consequences if we don’t report back every single detail of your transformation. The men are settling our things withyour staff. Richard insisted on inspecting your library, and Elias is probably interrogating your stable master about Highland horses by now.”
“My transformation?” Diana asked, stepping back to look between them.
“Well, yes! Look at you,” Jane said, pulling back to study Diana’s face with sharp, assessing eyes. “You look… different.”
“Different how?” Diana asked, though she was smiling too broadly to feel defensive.
“Not in a bad way,” Jane added quickly. “Just… steadier. Like you’ve finally stopped shrinking.”
Lydia nodded in agreement as her own gaze catalogued the changes in her youngest sister. “There’s something in your eyes that wasn’t there before, dearest… a confidence. You’re standing differently too.”
“Am I?” Diana glanced down at herself, then straightened her spine with the automatic response Finn had drilled into her through countless lessons. “I suppose I have been working on that. My husband has very particular opinions about how a duchess should carry herself.”
“Did I hear you interrupt the housekeeper?” Jane asked with amusement. “The old Diana would have apologized for breathing too loudly in her presence.”
“Mrs. Glenwright isn’t so fearsome once you get to know her,” Diana replied, then paused at her own words. When has she become someone who ‘got to know’ people instead of simply enduring their presence?
“Well,” Lydia said, linking arms with both her sisters. “We want to heareverything! Starting with how you’ve managed to transform from our shy little sister into someone who looks like she could command an army.”
“Hardly an army,” Diana laughed, but she felt a flutter of pride at the observation. “Though I am planning a formal dinner for twenty-four Highland landowners by the end of the week!”
“You what?” Jane’s eyebrows shot up. “Diana, you once hid behind potted plants to avoid conversing with Lady Ashford at tea.”
“Lady Ashford is insufferable,” Diana replied with a firmness that surprised all three of them. “Highland society is… different. More direct. They say what they mean instead of wrapping everything in pretty lies. It’s most refreshing, really.”
The sisters exchanged a meaningful look over Diana’s head as they climbed the castle steps together.
“And how is the Duke treating you?” Lydia asked gently. “We’ve heard such conflicting reports about his… temperament.”
Diana felt heat rise to her cheeks at the mention of Finn. “He is… complicated. Not what I expected.”
“Complicated how?” Jane pressed with the persistence that had always made her the most formidable of the Brandon sisters.
“He challenges me,” Diana said carefully. “Expects more from me than I thought I was capable of giving. But he also…” She paused, searching for the right words. “He sees me. Really sees me.”
“And do you like being seen?” Lydia asked carefully.
