Page 57 of Duke of Storme
“Ah,” Jane said with satisfaction. “Now that sounds like a man falling in love.”
“Jane,” Diana protested, but her heart gave that treacherous flutter again.
“What? I’m simply observing the evidence. A man who takes pride in his wife’s accomplishments, who trusts her with important responsibilities, and who looks at her like she hung the stars...” Jane shrugged. “If that’s not love, it’s certainly pointing in that direction.”
“And how do you feel about him?” Lydia asked gently. “Honestly?”
Diana was quiet for a long moment, considering the question seriously. “I think... I think I’m falling in love with him. Not the idea of him, not the convenience of the marriage, but him. The real him, beneath all that carefully controlled composure.”
Her sisters smiled at each other, and Diana felt a rush of affection for these women who knew her better than she sometimes knew herself.
“Then perhaps,” Lydia said softly, “the question isn’t whether you’re worthy of love, but whether you’re brave enough to accept it when it’s offered.”
As her sisters prepared for bed, Diana stood at her window looking out over the Highland landscape. In the distance, she could see lights in the estate manager’s cottage, signs of life and warmth in the vast darkness.
What did her sisters see that she didn’t? What transformation had taken place so gradually that she’d barely noticed it herself?
Perhaps the answer lay not in what had changed, but in what had finally been allowed to emerge. Perhaps she’d never been broken at all. Perhaps she’d simply been waiting for someone to see her clearly enough to reflect her own worth.
The question now was whether she was brave enough to trust what she saw in that reflection.
CHAPTER 17
“Tell me everything about Marian’s nursery preparations,” Diana said, curling up in her favorite chair by the sitting room fire. The tea service sat between them, steam rising from delicate porcelain cups in the flickering light.
“She’s driving Nicholas to distraction with fabric samples,” Jane replied with amusement. “Yesterday she changed her mind about the wallpaper for the third time. Something about wanting ‘soothing but not insipid’ colors.”
“Poor Nicholas,” Lydia laughed. “Though he seems to enjoy indulging her every whim. Last week he had an entire library of nursery rhymes delivered from London because she mentioned wanting to read to the baby.”
Diana smiled, settling back into the comfortable rhythm of sisterly conversation. They’d covered the safer topics during tea – London gossip, fashion trends, amusing stories from Elias and Richard’s latest political endeavors. But now, with the servantsdismissed and the castle quiet around them, Diana sensed the shift toward more serious matters.
“The dinner last night was lovely,” Lydia said carefully. “The Duke seems... quite different from the man we met at the engagement dinner.”
“Different how?” Diana asked, though she could guess.
“Much warmer,” Jane said. “The man at the engagement dinner was cold and dismissive, treating you as an inanimate object. Last night, he actually seemed to care about you. Your comfort. Your opinions.”
“He can be very considerate when he chooses to be,” Diana said softly.
“And does he choose to be considerate with you?” Lydia asked with gentle concern. “Because frankly, after the way he abandoned you on your wedding day, we’ve been worried.”
Diana felt her cheeks warm. “Most of the time. He’s... complex.”
Jane leaned forward, her sharp eyes fixed on Diana’s face. “Complex how? Diana, we saw how he treated you during the engagement process. We witnessed him leaving you at the altar, essentially. We need to know you are truly well here. How has your husband been treating you? Honestly?”
The directness of the question made Diana pause, her teacup halfway to her lips. She couldn’t pretend the past hadn’t happened, couldn’t dismiss the legitimate concerns her sister raised.
“He was awful at first,” Diana admitted quietly. “As cold and distant as expected, barely acknowledging my presence. I spent the first weeks here feeling like an unwelcome guest.
Both sisters went very still. Lydia set down her cup with careful precision.
“And now?” Jane asked, her voice carrying an edge that reminded Diana why her sister had always been the most formidable of them.
“Now… he is trying. I think we both are.” Diana set down her own cup, choosing her words carefully. “He’s teaching me Highland customs, trusting me with estate responsibilities. And sometimes, when he thinks I’m not looking, he watched me with something that might be… pride?”
“That’s quite a change from the man who couldn’t wait to escape London,” Lydia observed. “What do you think caused it?”
“I think… we’re both learning that we are more alike than either of us expected. Both outsiders trying to prove we belong somewhere.” Diana’s voice grew stronger. “He may have been cruel in the beginning, but I don’t think it was malicious. I think he was just as frightened as I was, just better at hiding it.
