Page 60 of Stolen By the Rakish Duke

Leo didn’t think now was the time for this conversation, or if they should be having it at all. How could he explain the curious way Beatrice had slipped past his defenses? The unexpected warmth her presence brought into rooms that had felt cold for as long as he could remember?

“We should finish preparing for our departure,” he said instead, refusing to meet his cousin’s knowing gaze. “There’s much to be done.”

Philip looked as though he might press the issue further, but the sound of the cottage door opening announced Beatrice’s return, and the moment for such confidences passed.

“The driver has agreed to remain here,” she announced, her cheeks flushed from the cold air outside. “Though I believe I’ve scandalized him thoroughly by suggesting that Philip take his place.”

Leo couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “I imagine he’ll recover from the shock when he sees the coins I’ll place in his palm.”

“Indeed,” Beatrice agreed, her eyes meeting his briefly before darting away.

Leo noticed that Philip glanced between them, an amused quirk to his lips. He chose to ignore that.

“We should depart now,” he declared, gathering his greatcoat from where he had draped it over a chair. “Philip, do you have everything you need?”

His cousin nodded, patting the bundle wrapped in cloth at his feet. “I do. I traveled light, for obvious reasons.”

“Good. Let’s be on our way, then.”

The journey back to London proceeded with minimal incident. Philip, attired in the driver’s rough clothing and with the hat pulled low over his eyes, played his role with surprising skill.

The few travelers they passed on the road paid them little mind. They were merely another well-dressed couple and a servant returning to the city.

At each coaching inn where they stopped to change horses, Leo found himself acutely aware of Beatrice’s presence beside him—the subtle floral scent of her perfume, the graceful way she moved, the quiet authority she commanded without apparent effort.

Each observation seemed to embed itself deeper into his consciousness, building a portrait of his wife that grew more complex with every passing hour.

“Do you think Anna will be well?” Beatrice asked as their carriage rolled through the increasingly populated outskirts of London.

Her hands twisted nervously in her lap, betraying an anxiety her neutral expression masked.

“Blackwood is competent,” Leo assured her. “No harm will come to her while she’s under his protection.”

Beatrice nodded, though her fingers continued their restless movement.

Without thinking, Leo reached across to still them with his own hand. Her skin felt warm beneath his touch, soft in a way that evoked memories of the night they had shared.

Her eyes met his, wide with surprise, and for a moment, neither spoke. An acknowledgement passed between them. Acknowledgement of the intimacy they had shared, or a silent question about what it might mean.

The carriage rolled over a particularly rough patch of road, breaking the moment. Leo withdrew his hand, clearing his throat.

“We’ll stop at Adrian’s residence first,” he said, keeping his voice neutral. “Philip will be safe there until we can arrange for him to join Anna.”

“Will it be safe, truly?” Beatrice asked.

While Leo couldn’t fault her for her loyalty, it was an entirely different matter when it came to the jealousy bubbling in his chest. But he pushed that aside. He would get to the bottom of this feeling later.

So, he merely nodded. “Yes. You know we can trust Adrian.”

They reached the back of Tillfield House, and after the housekeeper admitted them through the servants’ entrance, they met Adrian in the parlor.

He greeted them with characteristic flair, ushering them inside with a theatrical sweep of his arm while managing to convey both welcome and discretion in a single gesture.

“My dear Duke and Duchess!” he exclaimed, bowing with perfect courtesy despite the unusual circumstances. “And—good heavens, is that Mallingham beneath that appalling hat? What an unexpected delight!”

Philip grinned despite himself, removing the offending headgear. “Good to see you, Adrian. Terribly sorry to impose.”

“Nonsense,” Adrian said with a wave of his hand. “What are friends for, if not to hide each other from criminals? Makes life so much more interesting than playing a game of whist at White’s.”