Page 84 of Duke of Storme
“Have I?” Diana closed her book with deliberate care, setting it aside like discarded armor. “How gratifying to earn such confidence from someone who married me specifically for my ability to remain quietly unobtrusive.”
“That’s not–”
“What I was acquired for?” Diana rose with fluid grace, silk skirts rustling softly against upholstered furniture. “Forgive my confusion, Your Grace. Perhaps you could clarify exactly what role I’m meant to play in your absence.”
Finn’s jaw worked silently, internal struggle visible in every tense line of his powerful frame. “Ye know what yer role is.”
“Do I? Because it seems my understanding changes depending on your mood. Sometimes I’m competent enough to plan formal dinners and manage Highland politics. Other times I’mapparently so lacking that you can’t bear sharing the same castle.”
“Diana, that’s not–”
“Not what? Not accurate?” Diana stepped closer, close enough to observe the way his knuckles whitened around his crystal tumbler. “Then explain to me why every moment of progress between us is followed by days of retreat.”
“There’s been no retreat. I’ve simply been... busy with estate matters.”
“Estate matters.” Diana’s voice carried bitterness. “How convenient that these urgent concerns always arise after moments of genuine intimacy.”
Finn set his whisky down with enough force to make crystal sing against wood. “Ye’re imaginin’ intimacy where none exists.”
“Am I? How fascinating. Then perhaps you could explain what happened in the garden the other night.”
“Nothin’ happened.”
“So when you pulled me into your arms and kissed me like a man desperate for salvation, that was... nothing?”
“We were caught in the rain. Circumstances made us... careless.”
“Careless.” Each repetition of his dismissive words struck like hammer blows against anvil. “And when you said my name like a prayer? When your hands shook as you held me? All just... carelessness?”
Finn’s breathing had grown shallow, his carefully maintained control fraying like rope under strain. “Ye’re readin’ meaning into somethin’ that was purely physical.”
“Am I? Then why are you fleeing to London like a man escaping execution?”
The question hung between them sharp as Highland wind, impossible to dismiss or deflect. Finn’s mask was slipping, revealing glimpses of the desperate man beneath his ducal armor.
“I’m not fleein’ anywhere. I’m attendin’ to Parliamentary duties that cannot–”
“That mysteriously became urgent three days after you confessed you wanted things you had no right to want?” Diana moved closer still, near enough to catch the subtle scent of sandalwood and something uniquely masculine that belonged to him alone. “After you told me I was beautiful and strong and real in a world full of pretense?”
“I never said–”
“You did. While sketching me by candlelight, while looking at me like I was something precious you were afraid to break.” Diana’s voice dropped to barely above a whisper, forcing him to lean forward despite his obvious desire to retreat. “Before you kissed me like you’d been starving for exactly that connection your entire life.”
Finn’s composure cracked like ice under spring thaw. “‘Twas a mistake. All of it. I should never have–”
“Should never have what? Shown me who you really are beneath all that careful control? Let me see the man instead of just the Duke?”
“Because the man isn’t worth seein’!” The confession erupted from him with volcanic force. His Scottish accent thickened until it was rich as Highland soil. “Because everythin’ I touch turns to destruction eventually, and I won’t subject ye to that!”
Diana studied his face with the careful attention she usually reserved for her most complex botanical illustrations. “So, you’ll destroyusinstead. Before I can choose whether you’re worth the risk.”
“Aye. Because it’s kinder that way.”
“Kinder to whom?”
“To ye! Ye deserve someone who won’t flinch when ye offer affection, someone who can love ye without reservation,someone who doesn’t carry enough damage to sink a bloody warship!”
“What if I don’t want someone else?” Diana asked quietly, her voice carrying the strength of absolute conviction. “What if I want exactly the man standing before me – scars and walls and stubborn determination to protect everyone from his own heart?”
