Page 31 of Her Lion of a Duke (Dukes & Beasts #3)

She was as beautiful as she was when he lost her.

Leonard had returned Beatrice home safely, going unnoticed until the door opened. Her mother had then seen the carriage and insisted that he stay the night, to thank him for bringing her home.

He would have continued on his way, but they arrived at the early hours of the morning, and he did not want to disturb Cecilia’s family more than he was already going to, so he accepted the offer. He slept fitfully and then left once he had broken his fast.

When he saw Cecilia pale and shaken, all thought flew out of his head. He simply could not feel any of his anger, not anymore. All he wanted was to reconcile with his wife and take her home.

“Might we go somewhere private?” he asked, rain dripping from his hair.

“That would be best, yes, especially with—”

He raised an eyebrow at her, and she looked to the side before taking his sleeve and pulling him to the stairs.

They went to her room and sat on the edge of her bed. Her hands were clasped in her lap, and she was looking at the floor. Leonard could sense that something was amiss, but he assumed it was the conversation they were about to have and nothing more.

“I have been thinking about what happened,” he began.

“As have I,” she murmured. “And I cannot believe how selfish I have been. I did not think of you, and I am ashamed of myself for that. I am your wife, and that means I am meant to support you and do what is best for our family.”

“And you have always done that. Cecilia, I am here to tell you that I have thought the same about what happened, that the fault lies with me. I let my pride get in the way of what we have, and I foolishly assumed that you had wanted to hurt me, even though you have never done that.”

She blinked at him, and he could not help but laugh. She had left, and they had spent time apart, and while that had seemingly been what they both needed to realize what they had done wrong, he wished that she had never run away from him.

“I have missed you terribly, you know,” he admitted. “Even when I was angry, I thought of you constantly.”

“I thought of you, too. I have wanted to come home since I arrived, but I did not know if that was what you wanted.”

“Of course it was. I did not want you to leave in the first place. I thought that you needed space, and when you did not come home, I was terrified. I wanted to give you time, but when Lady Beatrice called, I realized that I had to come and find you, whether you wanted me to or not.”

She took his hand and rested her head against his shoulder, bringing back that familiar warmth he had been missing. He knew that he had missed her while she was away, but even he did not know how much until he was reunited with her.

“So what happens now?” she asked.

“We will go home, and we will discuss how we will handle our disagreements next time, and all will be well. It will be better, in fact, because you and I will know what to do.”

She looked up at him with eyes full of trust, and Leonard knew that he would gladly spend the rest of his life maintaining that. He wanted her to be happy with him and to live the life she deserved.

He cupped her face, tilted her chin, and, without hesitation, kissed her. He did not do so gently, nor carefully, but like a man desperate for the only thing that had ever made him feel alive: his wife.

The kiss was passionate but tinged with a tenderness that he was only capable of around his wife. She was startled for a moment, but then she leaned into him, kissing him back just as passionately.

When they finally parted, dizzy and breathless, he whispered against her lips, “I don’t want a perfect duchess. I want you. You are all that I have ever wanted, and I want—I need—you to come back to me.”

“I was never gone,” she replied softly. “I was only waiting for you to come after me.”

“And here I am,” he said as he rose to his feet, pulling her up with him. “Come. We will leave now.”

She took his hand, but then she hesitated.

“I cannot,” she mumbled. “I cannot come home yet.”

“Cecilia, I assure you that I am not angry with you.”

“I know, I know, and there is nothing I want more than to go home and be happy, but I cannot do that yet. There is something I must tend to here first.”

He tilted her chin up to him and saw the trepidation in her eyes. “Whatever it is, we can face it together. I am not going anywhere, Cecilia. Not without you.”

She crumbled in an instant.

“It is Lord Renshaw,” she said breathlessly.

“He is here to marry Clara. I do not know what he wants from her, but he claims to have plans and that I should ally myself with him. I cannot allow the match, but my aunt is thrilled about it. Clara will not say a word against her, and someone has to protect her. I do not know what to do.”

“We will do what we must,” he assured, leading her out of the room.

They went back downstairs, and Leonard heard his cousin’s laughter. They went to the parlor, and he saw him leering at Clara. He saw the discomfort on her face, and without thinking, he stepped between them.

“Leave, Renshaw,” he barked. “You are not wanted here.”

“Ah, Leonard!” Renshaw said warmly. “I suppose your wife was being honest after all. The two of you are fine, indeed. However, I must inform you that I am very welcome here. This is not your home, no matter how much power you believe you have.”

“The young lady is not interested in you. Leave her be, or else.”

“Or else what? We both know that you would never hurt anyone, even though the ton believes you are capable of it.”

Leonard picked Renshaw up by the collar, fury in his eyes, before he heard the shocked gasps of the two ladies present. He took a deep breath and set him back on his feet.

Renshaw was flushed, the fear plain in his eyes, but he continued to smile.

“You cannot help yourself, can you?” he taunted. “You Pridefields insist on being savages. You always have.”

“Do not speak of my family that way.”

“It is our family, dear cousin. We are all connected, and that has been a wonderful thing for me. It will only serve me better in the years to come.”

“Yes, my wife has told me about these plans of yours, the ones involving Lady Clara. Might you inform me of what they are?”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you, Your Grace?” Renshaw smirked. “Unfortunately, you will not know until it is too late. I only share my plans with those I trust, and given your behavior, I think we both know that I cannot trust you.”

“Nor do I trust you,” Leonard said coldly. “Tell me, Renshaw, where were you the night of my brother’s death?”

Renshaw paled, and Leonard’s suspicions were confirmed.

He had always assumed that someone had killed Henry, but when Cecilia mentioned that his cousin had plans, an awful feeling settled deep in his stomach.

Renshaw had always wanted power. He had none as a boy, and he was not the heir of a grand estate. He had a connection to the Pridefields, and he always resented Leonard for the fact that they were cousins, yet they led such different lives.

It changed when Henry died; Renshaw became all too friendly, and even though Leonard did not know his intentions, he knew not to trust him.

Looking at him at that moment, part of him wished that he were still living in ignorance.

“I do not recall where I was,” Renshaw stammered. “It was so long ago.”

“Oh? Because I remember where I was. I was at home that night, while my brother went to his club. The same club you went to every night, might I remind you. You must have seen him, yes?”

“I-I may have. You know how Henry was. He knew everyone, and he hardly gave anyone much time.”

“That is where you are wrong. He was very much interested in meeting with his friends, and from what I recall, that is precisely what he considered you to be.”

“Indeed, we were friends. I have missed him terribly since that night.”

“Have you? Or is it that you knew what you wanted, and your cousin was in your way?”

Renshaw did not respond, but footsteps approached. Lady Punton appeared in the doorway, her eyes steady on the two men.

“What is the meaning of this?” she asked. “I do not allow this sort of discussion in my house.”

“I apologize for the inconvenience,” Leonard offered. “But I cannot allow this man to marry your daughter. You do not really know him.”

“Have this man arrested!” Renshaw ordered. “I have been assaulted.”

“Yes, have them come.” Leonard laughed coldly. “I am more than happy to hand them a murderer.”

Lady Punton gasped, and Leonard stared into Renshaw’s eyes. He could feel the man trying to run, but Renshaw was unable to escape his firm grasp.

“A confession,” he hissed, “or I will tell them of your plans. That is why you want to marry Lady Clara, is it not?”

“Always intelligent,” Renshaw snarled. “Yes, Your Grace, you have it all figured out, haven’t you? I cannot be blamed for doing what I had to do.”

Silence ensued.

Lady Punton clapped a hand over her mouth, grabbed her daughter’s arm, and dragged her away. Leonard looked at Cecilia, who was trembling, and knew that he was doing the right thing. The ladies had to hear his cousin if they were to be believed.

“I thought you would have understood,” Renshaw continued.

“You were overlooked almost as much as I was. We were inferior, the ones who did not matter, for we did not have titles. That was for Henry, and all of the good that came with it, even though he never deserved it. I thought you would understand why I had to do it.”

“That is why you told me you would forgive me, is it not? You wanted to see how I feel about the man who killed him.”

“Yes, and I could not see it. You and I both know that it had to be done, for the good of our family.”

“And what about you planning to kill me next? You want to be Duke, yes? So much so that you would kill for it.”

“If it is necessary, yes. I have always deserved that life more than you, and you know it.”

“Did your wonderful mother tell you that?” Cecilia snarled. “Is that why you are so entitled?”

Renshaw turned red. He tried to lunge at her, but of course, he was no match for Leonard. He was slammed against the wall.

“You will never harm my wife,” Leonard thundered. “Nobody touches her.”

He held him in place until men arrived to take him away.

Renshaw’s confession had been short, but it was enough. He would receive his punishment, and Leonard hoped that it would come swiftly. When he was gone, the four of them stood quietly for a moment.

Leonard glanced at Cecilia, who was visibly shaken. But when he moved to comfort her, her aunt pulled her into her arms, apologizing over and over for not believing her.

“I should have trusted you,” she whispered. “I know that you are not stupid, Cecilia.”

“You saw what you wanted to,” Cecilia murmured. “Believe me, I understand.”

“No, I am a villain. Renshaw told me of his plans, how he would soon be one of the most respected members of the ton, and I did not question him. I was willing to marry off my daughter to him, and—” Lady Punton broke off, clasping a hand over her chest as she took sharp breaths.

Clara joined them, comforting her mother.

Leonard looked on, comforted by how forgiving they all were. It could have been disastrous, but it had not, and now they could mend things.

That was also the very thing he intended to do.

He went back home with Cecilia soon after, and he held her close throughout the ride.

Renshaw’s threats were more than enough for him to decide that he would not let her out of his sight for longer than necessary from that day on.

Images of her being hurt flashed through his mind, and he instinctively tightened his grip on her.

“You need not be so concerned.” She giggled. “It is done with, now. He is gone, and we can go back to the way things were.”

“No,” he said. “We cannot.”

She looked up at him with a confused expression. “Are you still angry?”

“Not at all, but I do not want to go back to how things were. I do not want to be incapable of telling you how I feel, and I do not want you to think that the only way to handle a dispute is to run. I do not want to go back to the way things were, because I much prefer how they are now.”

“I would have to agree with you,” she admitted, smiling. “No more secrets, no more lies. Just you and I and the life we share.”

He kissed her tenderly, and she wrapped an arm around his neck to deepen it.

When they pulled apart, Leonard looked her over. She was disheveled from the ordeal, her eyes were tired, and her skin was flushed, but he had never seen anyone so beautiful.

He could not believe that he had been so fortunate as to have the most incredible wife, and he was never going to let her believe that she was any less.

“Can I tell you something?” she asked.

“Anything.”

“I have been thinking about what you said about children. I thought of the life I wish to have and all that would bring, and I cannot imagine it without them. I think—no, I know that’s what I want.”

The breath was knocked out of him, only for it to flood back in at once. Leonard never would have pressured his wife, but he would have been lying if he said it was not exactly what he wanted to hear.

“I love you, Leonard,” she whispered. “I have for a long time.”

“And I have loved you for longer than I dare say, for you would wonder how on earth you did not notice.”

The following day would come, and they would worry about everything that had transpired. Leonard would reconcile with the fact that his own cousin had killed his brother, but for the moment, that did not matter. He had his wife, and she was all that mattered to him.

The hard days would pass, and they would be able to live exactly as they pleased.

Leonard could not wait.