Page 74 of Stolen By the Rakish Duke

Leo felt oddly vulnerable, as though something fundamental had shifted between them, some final barrier.

“You’re trembling,” Beatrice whispered, her hands gentle against his back.

He simply grunted in response. He hadn’t noticed, too lost in the unfamiliar emotions swirling inside him.

She nodded, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Not from the cold, I think.”

“No,” Leo agreed, carefully withdrawing and helping her down from the table. “Not from the cold.”

They dressed slowly, exchanging languid kisses and casual touches that spoke of growing comfort with one another. Leo found himself reluctant to leave this sanctuary, where they could simply be themselves, without the weight of titles or expectations.

“We should go back before they send a search party,” Beatrice said eventually, though she made no move to leave.

Leo caught her hand, bringing it to his lips. “We’ll come back.”

“Is that another promise?” Her smile held a hint of mischief that delighted him.

“You naughty woman.” He chuckled. “And yes, that is a promise. One of many I intend to keep.”

The words emerged with surprising gravity, carrying weight beyond their immediate context.

As they made their way back through the woods, hands entwined, Leo found himself contemplating the strange journey that had brought them to this point.

“What are you thinking?” Beatrice asked, breaking into his thoughts.

Leo glanced down at her, this woman who had somehow become essential to him in ways he was only beginning to understand.

“About you, my beautiful Duchess,” he said carefully. “Only you.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Istill think this is unnecessary,” Leo muttered as their carriage approached the imposing facade of Ironstone House. “We could have simply invited them to Stagmore.”

Beatrice smoothed her skirts, fighting a smile at his obvious discomfort. “Father insisted we come. He says he’s missed us terribly, though I suspect he wants to interrogate you without the disadvantage of being on your territory.”

“To ensure I haven’t broken your spirit, no doubt.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She reached across to straighten his already immaculate cravat. “Though he might check for bruises.”

Leo caught her hand, bringing it to his lips in a gesture that sent warmth through her. “The only marks between us are entirely consensual, my dear.”

The carriage slowed to a halt, and Beatrice felt a flutter of nerves. She hadn’t seen her family in many weeks, and while her letters had been reassuring, she knew her father and Isabella would scrutinize every interaction between her and Leo.

“Remember,” she whispered as the footman opened the carriage door, “Isabella will try to provoke you. Don’t rise to it.”

Leo’s smile held a dangerous edge. “I look forward to the challenge.”

Her father awaited them at the entrance, his imposing figure framed in the doorway. Beside him stood Christine, elegant as always, with Henry and Eleanor practically vibrating with excitement behind her.

“Father,” Beatrice greeted, accepting his embrace with genuine pleasure.

“You look well,” he said gruffly, holding her at arm’s length to study her face. His eyes, sharp and assessing, missed nothing.

“She is well, Duke,” Leo spoke up, stepping forward to shake his hand. “Though I suspect you need more evidence than mere appearance.”

Her father’s eyebrows rose slightly. “A wise assumption, Stagmore.”

“Edwin,” Christine chided gently, “perhaps we might continue this conversation inside? The children are beside themselves.”