Page 58 of Stolen By the Rakish Duke

“Yes,” Leo affirmed, surprised by the fierceness of his own conviction. “You are my cousin. Anna is important to you. And no one, nobleman or commoner, will harm either of you while I draw breath.”

Beatrice nodded, her eyes shining with determination as she added, “We will help you both, Philip. Together, we can make this right.”

Philip’s shoulders slumped, not in defeat but in relief, as though a burden he had carried along for too long was finally lifted.

“I don’t deserve such loyalty after what I’ve done,” he mumbled.

“Perhaps not,” Leo acknowledged with brutal honesty. “But you have it, nonetheless.”

Silence fell between them, broken only by the soft crackling of the small fire in the hearth.

Outside, birds called to one another in the late afternoon sun, the peaceful sounds of the countryside a jarring contrast to the dangerous conspiracy they discussed within the cottage walls.

“You know,” Philip said after a moment, a ghost of his usual mischievous smile touching his lips, “you two make a remarkably convincing couple.”

Beatrice’s cheeks flushed, and Leo felt satisfaction spreading through his chest.

The memory of the previous night flashed vividly through his mind. Beatrice’s soft skin beneath his hands, her sweet taste on his tongue, the way she had trembled at his touch, the warmth she had offered that chased away his perpetual chill?—

But now was not the time to get lost in that memory. He had no intention of indulging in front of his cousin, no matter how much he wanted to scream that Beatrice was now his.

His irrational jealousy was eager to make a fool out of him, it seemed.

He cleared his throat. “We should focus on the matter at hand.”

Philip’s smile widened slightly, his eyes flicking between them with growing curiosity.

“Of course,” he agreed, though his tone suggested he had noted far more than either of them might wish. “What’s the next step, then?”

Leo pushed aside the discomfort of his cousin’s perceptive observation and considered their options. “You’ll need to return to London with us. Disguised, of course. Our driver can remain here; I’ll give him enough money to make his way back in a day or two.”

“And once in London?” Philip asked, his earlier fear returning. “Westbury has eyes everywhere.”

“You’ll stay with Anna at my property,” Leo replied. “Few know of its existence, and those who do are loyal to me alone. Meanwhile, I’ve engaged the services of Bow Street Runners who report directly to me. They’ve been gathering evidence of Westbury’s operations.”

Philip hesitated, then nodded slowly. “I don’t see that I have much choice,” he sighed. “Hiding hasn’t exactly proven effective.”

“No, it hasn’t,” Leo agreed, though he softened the words by clasping his cousin’s shoulder. “Gather what you need. We should leave within the hour if we’re to reach the next coaching inn by nightfall.”

As Philip moved about the cottage, collecting his meager belongings, Leo found Beatrice at his side, her presence a quiet comfort he had not known he needed until she provided it.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice pitched low for his ears only.

He glanced down at her, momentarily caught by the clarity in her eyes, the sincerity that shone there without guile or calculation. “For what?”

“For this,” she replied, gesturing subtly toward Philip. “For helping him.”

Leo felt oddly exposed by her gratitude, as though she had glimpsed some part of him he usually kept hidden.

“He’s family,” he said simply, because that explained everything.

The smile that curved her lips suggested she understood far more than his words conveyed.

“Yes,” she agreed. “He is.”

Philip returned with a small bundle wrapped in oilcloth, looking more resolute than before. “I’m ready,” he announced. “Though I must look a sight for London Society.”

“The ton won’t see you,” Leo assured him. “Not until Westbury has been dealt with. I have clothes that can be altered to fit you at the house.”