Page 87 of Duke of Pride

“All I am saying is, just dare. Bare yourself to her.”

“What if she says no?”

“What if she says yes?”

* * *

Stephen felt like a fool. Hiding away at the docks like a spy, lurking behind crates and piles of rope. His eyes were fixed on the ship scheduled to leave for Hamburg. The ship that would take her away. She would show up any minute. He was so nervous, not sure what he would do even if he saw her.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of an approaching carriage. It stopped before the ship.

His fingers were clenched around the book he had brought with him. For her. If he would ever step out of the shadows.

Maxwell got off the carriage and extended his hand. Stephen’s entire world narrowed to those stairs. Victoria stepped out, dressed in a traveling gown of deep blue, and his soul felt the warmth of the sun for the first time in days.

Stephen studied her face. She looked tired and pale, but she smiled at her brother, determined.

Stephen’s chest tightened. She was really leaving. This was what she wanted, what she dreamed of, and he had no right to take it away from her. He was ready to step back, leave, and go back to his hollow life.

But then, as Maxwell talked to the servant who would serve as a chaperone and a member of the crew, Victoria looked away, to the docks, as if searching, as if she was expecting something. Her eyes swept over his hiding spot.

She looked so lost and pitiful, sad and desolate. She turned back toward the ship, her expression crumbling for just an instant before she schooled it back into calm resignation.

And at that moment, Stephen knew.

This wasn’t the face of a woman chasing a dream. This was the face of a woman running. From him, from them, from the pain they’d caused each other.

“What if she says yes?”

Victoria took a step toward the gangway. Stephen took a step out of the shadows. And another, one more. Soon, he was running toward her.

“Victoria!”

She didn’t turn around at first. She froze mid-step, her hands clasping the rope to steady her. The first one to react was her brother, who turned around and looked at him as if he could not comprehend what he was seeing.

“Bloody hell!” Maxwell’s shout echoed across the docks. “Colborne.”

“I would like to talk to Victoria,” Stephen said firmly.

The world stopped. Victoria turned around, a slow movement that sent Stephen’s heart slamming against his ribs. Her eyes, those devastating eyes he’d drowned in a thousand times, locked onto his.

“Just a word, Victoria. Please.”

“Excuse me, Colborne,” Maxwell interjected. “What?—?”

“Please, Maxwell,” Stephen said, openly begging. “Allow me to talk to Victoria.Please.”

Maxwell’s gaze darted between his desperate expression and Victoria’s frozen form, and he sighed.

“Five minutes.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice to a growl only Stephen could hear. “And if you make her cry, I’ll throw you in the goddamn harbor myself.”

“If I do, I will throw myself in.”

Maxwell exhaled and stepped toward the carriage.

Stephen offered his hand to help Victoria off the gangway. This was the one gesture that mattered most in his entire life. All his life hinged on this moment, waiting for her to give him her hand, to give him a chance.

“Please, Victoria. Just… Please.”