Page 106 of Stolen By the Rakish Duke

“I told myself I was protecting you by pushing you away,” he continued, forcing the words past the tightness in his throat. “But I was protecting myself. From the fear of loving someone I might lose.”

Beatrice’s breath caught, her eyes widening.

“I’ve spent my life building walls,” Leo said, struggling to sit up despite the pain. “My father taught me that emotions were a weakness, that vulnerability invited destruction. I believed him. Until you.”

“Leo—”

“No, let me finish.” He drew a shaky breath. “When I faced Westbury, when his knife found me, do you know what I thought of? Not strategy, not survival. But you, Beatrice. Only you. Your smile, your courage, your mind—everything I might never see again.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, though she made no move to wipe them away.

“I hurt you,” he acknowledged, the admission tearing at him. “I pushed you away when I should have held you closer. I claimed it was for your safety, when it was my own fear driving me. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m asking for it anyway.”

The silence that followed seemed endless.

Leo watched her face, searching for any sign of the feelings she had once let him glimpse.

“You hurt me deeply,” she finally said, her voice steady despite the tears now rolling down her cheeks. “I thought… I thought I’d found someone who saw me, truly saw me. And then you looked right through me, as though what had grown between us meant nothing.”

“It meant everything,” Leo whispered fiercely. “That was why I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. But I lost you anyway, because of my own fear.”

Beatrice studied him, her gaze penetrating in a way that made him feel utterly exposed.

“Do you know what was worse than the hurt?” she asked. “The waste of it. The needless suffering we both endured because you wouldn’t let yourself be loved.”

The truth of her words struck him.

“I want to learn,” he said simply. “If you’ll give me a chance, I want to spend the rest of my life learning how to love you as you deserve. Because I love you, Beatrice. God, I am madly, utterly, completely in love with you, dear. And I swear I’ll make you feel it, every single day for the rest of our lives.”

Beatrice remained silent, considering his words with the careful deliberation he had come to cherish in her. Then, with gentle movements that belied the strength behind them, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

The kiss was brief, tender rather than passionate, but it kindled hope in Leo’s chest that had nothing to do with desire.

When she pulled back, her expression had softened.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” she said, a hint of steel beneath her soft tone. “And I cannot believe you got yourself wounded while we were fighting. It’s a terribly unfair advantage.”

Leo laughed despite the pain in his injured side. “Unfair? You’ve had the advantage over me from the moment we met,” he countered, relief washing over him. “I never stood a chance against you, Beatrice.”

“Good,” she murmured, leaning in to kiss him again. “Because I have no intention of letting you push me away again. Not ever.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Leo promised, drawing her closer despite the protest of his wound. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

“I love you, Leo,” she told him.

“I love you, my darling.”

As her lips found his once more, Leo finally understood what his father had never grasped.

True strength lay not in isolation, but in the courage to be vulnerable, to allow oneself to be loved. And in Beatrice’s arms, he had found that courage at last.

Epilogue

FIVE MONTHS LATER

“Istill cannot believe you managed to convince the Countess of Darlington to sponsor your first ball,” Leo said, leaning against the doorframe. “Even my mother, formidable as she was, found that particular dragon impossible to charm.”

Philip laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “It wasn’t my doing at all. Your wife worked that particular miracle.”