Page 42 of Duke of Storme (Braving the Elements #4)

“ Y our Grace, ye cannot mean to go out in this weather again!”

Mrs. Glenwright’s voice carried a note of desperation as Diana wrapped her heavy woolen cloak around her shoulders, securing the ties with deliberate efficiency.

“Mrs. Cameron’s roof is leaking directly over her children’s beds,” Diana replied, checking the canvas sack at her feet. “The supplies she needs are in the storage shed. It’s a twenty-minute walk.”

“It’s been rainin’ for two days straight! The ground is treacherous, and the wind–”

“Mrs. Cameron has four children under the age of eight,” Diana interrupted firmly. “They cannot sleep in wet beds while we debate the wisdom of helping them.”

Mrs. Glenwright wrung her hands. “But His Grace specifically said ye’re not to leave the castle grounds without–”

“I refuse to let children suffer because of a little rain.” Diana said, pulling her hood up.

“A little rain?” Mrs. Glenwright’s voice rose. “Your Grace, this is a Highland storm!”

But Diana was already pushing through the door into the tempest.

The wind struck her like a living thing, driving rain against her face with needle-sharp intensity. Diana bent her head and pressed forward, her boots sliding through mud that tried to claim them with every step.

The path to the tenant cottages had become a treacherous course of puddles and slick stones. But Diana pressed on, her determination outweighing her discomfort. When she finally reached Mrs. Cameron’s cottage, she was soaked to the bone.

“Your Grace! Ye shouldn’t have come!”

“Nonsense,” Diana said, pushing the supply sack into the grateful woman’s arms. “You have everything you need there – oiled cloth, extra blankets, and shortbread for the children.”

Mrs. Cameron’s eyes filled with tears. “Your Grace, I don’t know how to thank ye.”

“Take care of your little ones,” Diana said simply. “That’s thanks enough.”

The return journey was even more brutal, the wind howling with renewed fury. But when Diana finally reached the castle grounds, triumph coursed through her veins. She had seen a problem and solved it, without asking permission or waiting for approval.

She was making her way through the garden when a voice cut through the storm like a blade.

“Have ye lost your bloody mind?”

Diana spun to find Finn striding toward her, his dark hair plastered to his skull, his gray-blue eyes blazing with fury and something that looked remarkably like panic.

“Good afternoon, Finn,” she said with deliberate politeness. “I trust your meetings went well?”

“Don’t.” Finn’s voice carried naval authority. “Don’t pretend this is normal. What the hell were ye thinkin’, Diana?”

She turned to face him fully, rain streaming down her face but her chin lifted defiantly. “I was thinking that Mrs. Cameron’s children shouldn’t sleep in wet beds because their Duchess was too for the Highland weather.”

“Too delicate?” Finn’s accent thickened with emotion. “Or too sensible to risk yer neck for something that could have waited?”

“Could it have waited?” Diana stepped toward him, her eyes flashing. “How long would you have your tenants suffer for convenience?”

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what is?” Diana demanded, her voice rising. “Because it looks like you expect me to hide inside like porcelain while real people have real problems!”

Finn stared at her, dripping wet and magnificent in her fury, and felt something snap inside his chest.

“The point,” he said, his voice deadly quiet, “is that ye could have slipped on those paths and broken yer neck. Caught fever. Been hurt or lost or worse, all to prove what? That ye’re not afraid of weather?”

“I was proving I’m not afraid of doing what’s right!” Diana shot back, stepping closer. “Something you’ve forgotten in your determination to control every aspect of my existence!”

“Control? I’m tryin’ to keep ye safe!”

“Safe from what? From caring? From making decisions? From being more than an ornament in your castle?”

“Ye’re not an ornament!”

“Then stop treating me like one!” Diana’s chest heaved with emotion, rain streaming down her face. “Stop deciding what I can do, where I can go, who I can help!”

Finn raked a hand through his soaked hair, frustration and fear warring in his expression. “Ye’re my wife, Diana. Yer safety is my responsibility.”

“I’m not your responsibility!” The words exploded from her. “I’m not your possession to be managed and protected and kept on a shelf!”

“That’s not–”

“You’re afraid!” Diana interrupted, her voice cutting through the storm. “You’re afraid of everything you feel, Finn. And I’m tired of pretending I don’t see it.”

Finn went very still, breathing harsh as he stared at her through the rain.

“Ye think ye know me?” he asked, voice low.

“I think I want to,” Diana said, softer but no less determined. “But you won’t let me. Every time I get close, you retreat behind walls and pretend it never happened.”

“Maybe it’s better that way.”

“Better for whom?” Diana stepped closer, close enough to see water droplets on his lashes. “Better for you, so you can keep telling yourself you don’t need anyone? Or for me, so I can pretend I don’t care?”

Finn’s jaw clenched. “Diana–”

“Last night you told me you don’t believe in love,” she continued, gaining strength. “You said you believe in surviving, in keeping people distant. But what if I don’t want distance anymore?”

“Ye don’t understand what ye’re askin’.”

“Don’t I?” Diana reached up, her hand touching his cheek despite the rain. “I’m asking you to stop being terrified of wanting something good. To trust that maybe you deserve happiness.”

Finn’s eyes searched her face for uncertainty, for any reason to retreat. But Diana met his gaze steadily, rain-soaked and unafraid.

“And if I destroy it?” he asked, barely audible above the storm. “If I ruin this like everything else?”

“Then we’ll face that together,” Diana said simply. “But what if you don’t? What if you help create something beautiful?”

They stood frozen while the Highland storm raged, caught on the precipice of everything. Diana could see the war in Finn’s eyes – fear against hope, self-preservation against need.

“Diana,” he said, her name a warning and prayer combined.

“I know it’s terrifying,” she whispered, moving closer until only breath separated them. “But I’m not going anywhere, Finn. No matter how hard you try to push me away.”

And then Finn’s control shattered entirely.

His hands came up to frame her face as his fingers tangled in wet hair.

He pulled her toward him with desperate hunger.

When his mouth crashed down on hers, it wasn’t gentle or polite or anything resembling London propriety.

It was raw, hungry, and filled with everything he’d buried beneath weeks of careful distance.

Diana’s hands flew to his chest, not to push away but to fist in his coat and pull him closer, deeper, into the kiss that felt like drowning and salvation.

The rain fell around them in sheets, but neither cared.

Finn’s mouth moved against hers with desperate intensity, pouring every unspoken confession into her soul.

Diana responded with equal fervor, her lips parting with eagerness that would have shocked her former self.

This was fire and storm and complete destruction of every wall they’d built.

Finn’s hands moved to her waist, pulling her against him until she could feel his heartbeat through sodden clothes.

“Diana,” he groaned against her mouth, her name a confession he’d been too afraid to make.

She answered by pressing closer. Her arms slid around his neck as she gave herself completely to the kiss. Every sensation heightened – the taste of rain on his lips, warmth of his breath, and the way his hands trembled as they held her.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, they remained pressed together. Finn’s forehead rested against hers and he closed his eyes as though he could memorize the moment.

“Christ,” he whispered, accent thick with emotion. “Diana, I–”

“I know,” she said softly, fingers tracing his jaw. “I know.”

Finn couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything except stare down at the woman in his arms and try to comprehend what had happened.

He’d kissed his wife. Not the careful, proper kiss of arrangement, but something desperate and consuming that left him feeling stripped of every defense he’d ever possessed.

And she’d kissed him back. Diana had met his passion with her own, had pulled him closer instead of pushing away, and had responded to his hunger with eagerness that made his head spin.

“We should go inside,” he said, though he made no move to release her. “Ye’re soaked through.”

“So are you,” Diana pointed out, breathless.

“Aye.” His hands remained at her waist, unwilling to break connection even as they both shivered. “Diana, what we just did–”

“Was real,” she interrupted softly. “Don’t you dare dismiss it as something else.”

Finn studied her face, noting rain-darkened lashes, the flush in her cheeks that had nothing to do with cold. She looked like a woman thoroughly kissed, and knowing he’d put that expression there sent primitive satisfaction through him.

“It changes things,” he said quietly.

“Yes,” Diana agreed. “It does.”

“There’s no goin’ back from this, Diana. No pretendin’ we’re just fulfilling an arrangement.”

“Good,” she said with surprising firmness. “I’m tired of pretending, Finn. Tired of walking on eggshells, tired of acting like I don’t care when you push me away.”

Her honesty hit him like a chest blow. “Ye shouldn’t care. It’s safer if ye don’t.”

“Safer for whom?” Diana’s hands moved to his chest, burning through wet fabric. “For you, so you can keep convincing yourself you don’t deserve affection? Or for me, so I can live half a life?”

“Diana–”

“I won’t do it anymore,” she continued. “I won’t pretend this marriage means nothing. I won’t act like I don’t notice how you look at me when you think I’m not watching. And I won’t pretend that kiss didn’t happen.”

Finn felt his throat constrict as the walls around his heart threatened to crumble. “Ye don’t know what ye’re sayin’.”

“You seem to think that quite a lot, but I assure you, I do, Finn.” Diana’s eyes met his with unwavering directness. “I’m saying I refuse to live like strangers. I’m saying I want this marriage to be real, not just convenient.”

“And if I can’t give ye what ye want?”

“Then at least I’ll know I tried.” Diana’s thumb traced across his chest where his heart hammered. “At least I’ll know I didn’t hide from the possibility of something beautiful.”

The words cut through him, laying bare every fear about love and loss and terrible vulnerability.

But looking at Diana – rain-soaked, defiant, magnificent – Finn realized hiding had become impossible.

She’d seen through every defense, refused to be kept at safe distance.

And instead of running when she’d glimpsed the wounded man beneath ducal polish, she’d stayed.

Fought. Demanded he see himself as worthy of more than survival.

“Ye’re the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met,” he said, voice rough with suppressed emotion.

“Good,” Diana replied, moving closer until she was pressed against him. “Someone needs to be stubborn enough to fight for this.”

“For what?”

“For us.” Lightning struck again. “For the possibility that we might be happy instead of just... enduring each other.”

Finn’s hands tightened at her waist, pulling her closer despite every instinct screaming retreat. “Diana, if we do this… I don’t know how to be what ye need.”

“You don’t have to know,” she said, unwavering. “We can figure it out together. But I need you to want to try.”

The honesty in her voice, the hope in her eyes, and the way she looked at him like someone worth saving – it shattered his last resistance like glass against stone.

“I do want to try,” he said. The confession was torn from deep in his chest. “God help me, Diana, I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anythin’.”

Her smile was sunrise through storm clouds. “Then stop fighting it.”

“It’s not simple–”

“Yes, it is.” Diana touched his face and her fingers trailed across his cheek. “It’s the simplest thing in the world, if you’ll let it be.”

Thunder crashed overhead, but neither flinched. They stood like two people who had finally found something worth fighting for.

“Diana,” Finn said, her name a vow. “I need ye to understand. I’m not good at this. At feelings. At lettin’ people close. I’ve spent years keepin’ everyone distant.”

“Then learn,” she said simply. “Learn with me.”

Finn stared down at her. This woman had become essential to his breathing. She had transformed from quiet obligation into the center of his world. Diana was the woman who had refused to be dismissed despite his best efforts.

“Aye,” he said finally, rough with emotion. “I’ll learn.”

When he kissed her this time, it was with reverence instead of desperation, promise instead of panic. Diana melted against him.

The rain continued falling, but it felt like a blessing. Like the world was washing them clean for whatever came next.

When they separated, both breathing hard, Finn kept his arms around her while Diana’s hands remained in his hair.

“Nothing is the same now,” he said quietly as he pressed his forehead against hers. “And it can never be again.”

“No,” Diana agreed. “It can’t.”

They stood together in the storm, two people who had stopped running from love.

The Highland wind howled with renewed fury, but neither moved.

They had crossed a line from which there was no retreat.

Together, they had acknowledged feelings that could no longer be denied or dismissed or safely contained.

And as they finally walked toward the castle entrance, hands intertwined and hearts beating in rhythm, both knew that everything had changed.

There would be consequences to face, questions to answer, a future to navigate that looked nothing like the careful arrangement they’d started with.

But for the first time since their wedding day, neither of them was afraid of what tomorrow might bring.

They had each other. They had truth. They had love, raw and new and all-consuming in its intensity.

It was enough. It was everything.

It was the beginning of something neither had dared to hope for and the end of everything that had kept them apart.

And as the castle doors closed behind them, shutting out the storm but not the electricity that crackled between them, Diana and Finn finally understood what it meant to stop merely surviving and start truly living.

Together.