Page 47 of Duke of Myste (Braving the Elements #3)
The Duke of Storme might be a man of considerable standing, but Diana was under the protection of two dukes and a marquess who took their responsibilities seriously.
As the dance concluded and the Duke escorted Diana back to their group, Jane noted the becoming flush in her sister’s cheeks and the way her eyes seemed brighter than they had been all evening. Whatever had passed between them during their dance had clearly been more than mere social politeness.
“Thank you for the dance, Your Grace,” Diana said as they rejoined the group, her voice steadier than it had been earlier. “You were quite right about the beauty of Scottish music—it tells stories in a way I hadn’t expected.”
“Perhaps,” the Duke replied, the slight softening of his vowels fully betraying his heritage, “ye would allow me to share more of those stories with ye in the future? If yer family would permit it.”
The formal request, delivered with perfect propriety, nevertheless carried an undercurrent of genuine interest that made Jane’s heart skip with excitement for her sister.
“We would be delighted to receive you, Your Grace,” Richard responded with ducal authority, while Jane tried not to smile too obviously at Diana’s expression of mingled terror and anticipation.
As the Duke took his leave with promises to call within the week, Jane felt a familiar surge of protective affection for her twin.
Diana deserved someone who would gently peer past her shyness to the warm, intelligent woman beneath—and perhaps, just perhaps, they had found him in the most unlikely of places.
“Well,” Marian said with barely contained excitement as the Duke disappeared into the crowd, “that was certainly interesting. Diana, you’re positively glowing!”
Diana’s cheeks, which had only just returned to their normal color, immediately flushed bright pink again. “I am not glowing. I am simply… warm from all the dancing.”
“Of course you are,” Lydia drawled with the sort of innocent expression that fooled no one. “Though I must say, the Duke seemed quite taken with your conversation about Scottish ballads. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man listen so intently to a discussion about musical compositions.”
“He was merely being polite,” Diana protested, though her voice lacked conviction. “I’m sure he dances with many young ladies and shows the same courtesy to them all.”
“My dear sister,” Jane said gently, “I watched that entire interaction, and it was rather plain that the Duke of Storme was not merely being polite. He was genuinely interested in what you had to say—and more importantly, in you .”
Nicholas cleared his throat. “While I hesitate to involve myself in matters of the heart, I feel compelled to point out that His Grace’s request to call on the family was phrased with particular specificity.
He didn’t ask to call on the Brandons generally—he specifically requested permission to continue his acquaintance with Diana. ”
“Did he?” Diana asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as though she were afraid that speaking too loudly might somehow make the entire evening evaporate like a dream.
“He did, indeed,” Richard confirmed, his tone carrying the authority of someone who had listened to such requests many times.
“And Diana, as someone who is well aware of the obligations of a duke, I can assure you that the Duke of Storme would not have made such a request lightly. Dukes, as a general rule, do not waste time on social pleasantries that serve no purpose.”
Elias nodded in agreement. “Richard is quite right. A man of Storme’s position could have any number of social obligations at any given time.
The fact that he specifically sought an introduction to you, engaged you in substantive conversation, and then requested permission to continue the acquaintance…
these are not the actions of a man simply being polite or fulfilling a social obligation. ”
Diana looked around at the assembled group, her expression caught between hope and terror. “But surely you’re all reading too much into a simple dance and polite conversation? I mean, what could a duke possibly see in someone like me?”
“Someone like you?” Jane repeated, her voice sharp with reproach.
“Diana, you are intelligent, kind, well-read, and possess a gentle warmth that draws people to you. What’s more, you have the strength to remain true to yourself, despite Society’s pressure to conform to some artificial standard of vivacious charm.
Those are qualities any sensible man would value. ”
“Jane is absolutely right,” Marian chimed in. “Diana, I saw the Duke’s face during your conversation. He was deeply engrossed. You made him smile genuinely—not the practiced smile most of us wear at these events.”
“Besides,” Lydia added with a mischievous glint in her eyes, “if the Duke of Storme was merely being courteous, why did he look so… annoyed when Lord Finlay approached during your dance, clearly intending to cut in?”
“He looked annoyed?” Diana asked, her interest piqued despite her attempts to maintain modest skepticism.
“Positively murderous,” Nicholas confirmed teasingly. “I thought for a moment he would challenge poor Lord Finlay to a duel for the interruption.”
“Now you are all being ridiculous,” Diana protested.
But Jane could see the warm flush in her sister’s cheeks that suggested she was not entirely displeased by the idea of having drawn such positive attention.
“Are we?” Richard asked mildly. “Diana, I’ve met many men in my social and political circles. I’ve seen how they behave when they’re fulfilling obligations versus when they’re genuinely interested. Surely, our entire group cannot be wrong.”
“Miss Brandon!” Lady Ashford exclaimed, her fan working overtime in her excitement.
“You simply must tell me everything about the Duke of Storme! Where did he come from? Did he request an introduction to you specifically? And, most importantly, my dear, what on earth did the two of you discuss during your dance?”
Diana’s eyes widened in panic at this direct assault of questions, but before she could stammer out a response, Jane smoothly intervened.
“Lady Ashford, how lovely to see you this evening. I believe the Duke mentioned recently returning from Scotland—something about settling his late uncle’s affairs and taking proper possession of his estates.
As for his conversation with Diana, they merely discussed a mutual appreciation for the traditional music of his homeland. ”
“Traditional music!” Lady Ashford gasped, as though Jane had announced they had been discussing ancient Greek philosophy. “How… unusual. I would have expected a man of his sophistication to prefer more… contemporary entertainments.”
“Perhaps,” Lydia said with deceptive mildness, “the Duke appreciates the depth and complexity found in traditional forms. Some people, after all, prefer substance to mere fashion.”
The subtle rebuke was delivered with such perfect politeness that Lady Ashford couldn’t possibly take offense, though her expression suggested she had caught the implied criticism of her preference for superficial entertainments.
“Yes, well,” she said, clearly struggling to maintain her composure, “I suppose there’s something to be said for… educational pursuits. Miss Brandon, you must be quite proud of your scholarly interests.”
“I am,” Diana affirmed with quiet dignity.
Jane felt a surge of pride at her sister’s refusal to apologize for her intellectual curiosity.
“I find that music, particularly traditional compositions, tells us so much about the cultures and people who created it. It’s rather like reading history, but through melody and rhythm instead of words. ”
“How fascinating,” Lady Ashford returned in a tone that suggested she found it anything but. “Well, I do hope you’ll share more of your… insights with the Duke if he decides to call on you.”
As the woman scurried away to spread gossip to other interested ladies, Marian linked arms with Diana protectively.
“That woman is a menace,” she declared. “Pay her no attention whatsoever, Diana. She’s simply jealous that you managed to capture the attention of the most interesting man at the ball, while she’s been throwing her daughter at every cravat in London with no success whatsoever.”
“Marian!” Diana sputtered, though she was clearly fighting back a smile.
“It is true,” Elias said matter-of-factly. “Lady Ashford has been attempting to secure advantageous matches for her daughters for three Seasons now. The fact that you’ve succeeded where she has failed, and without apparent effort on your part, is probably driving her to distraction.”
“I haven’t succeeded at anything,” Diana said firmly. “The Duke asked to call, nothing more. It is entirely possible that he has no intention of actually following through.”
“Diana,” Jane said gently, “I understand your caution—I truly do. But sometimes we have to allow ourselves to hope, to believe that good things can happen to us. You deserve to be appreciated and loved for the wonderful person you are.”
“And,” Richard added with the authority of someone who understood the obligations of aristocratic courtship, “I can virtually guarantee that the Duke of Storme will call as promised. Men of his position do not make casual commitments, particularly not in front of witnesses. He will call, Diana, and when he does, I suggest you allow yourself to enjoy his company rather than spending the entire visit convinced he would rather be somewhere else.”
Diana nodded slowly, though Jane could see the nervous excitement in her eyes. “Very well. I shall… try my best to be optimistic.”
“Good.” Jane nodded. “Richard,” she said, her voice carrying a note of urgency that immediately captured her husband’s full attention. “I need your assistance with something in the library.”
“Can it not wait?” he asked softly.
“It is quite urgent,” she insisted, lightly batting her lashes at him.