Page 75 of Stolen By the Rakish Duke

As if on cue, Eleanor broke free from her mother’s restraining hand and hurled herself at Beatrice with the full force of her seven-year-old enthusiasm.

“Bea! We’ve missed you terribly! Henry’s been absolutely beastly without you to scold him, and Isabella locks herself in her room for hours. And I’ve learned four new piano pieces that you simply must hear!”

Beatrice laughed, gathering her little sister close. “I’ve missed you, too, darling. All of you.”

Henry approached with more dignity, though his excitement was barely contained beneath his attempt at proper decorum.

“Hello, Bea,” he greeted, then turned to Leo with undisguised curiosity. “Your Grace.”

Leo bowed to the boy with the same respect he might show a peer. “Lord Henry. I understand you’re quite the horseman.”

Henry puffed out his chest with pride. “Father says I have a natural seat.”

“Then perhaps you’ll join me for a ride tomorrow morning? I’d value your opinion on a new hunter I’ve acquired.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“If your father permits it,” Leo added, glancing at the Duke of Ironstone.

Beatrice watched her father’s expression shift from suspicion to grudging approval.

“A fine suggestion,” he conceded. “But… I shall accompany you.”

“Even better,” Leo replied smoothly. “I’ve heard much about your expertise with horseflesh.”

As they moved inside, Isabella appeared at the top of the stairs, descending with deliberate slowness. Her gaze locked on Leo with undisguised suspicion.

“Your Grace,” she said, her voice calm but edged with steel, “I hope your attention remains focused on my sister.”

Leo’s lips curled into a wry smile, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Rest assured, Lady Isabella. I have not forgotten your counsel from our last encounter. It seems some reminders are worth repeating.”

Isabella’s gaze held firm, though a hint of satisfaction softened her expression. “Indeed. Some things, it appears, require reinforcement.”

Although it was clear that she did not believe a word he said.

“Shall we move to the drawing room?” Christine suggested, expertly defusing the tension. “Tea has been prepared, and I’m certain Beatrice and His Grace would appreciate refreshment after their journey.”

Later, as they gathered around the dinner table, Beatrice found herself watching Leo navigate her family’s dynamics with surprising skill. He discussed agricultural innovations with her father, listened to Eleanor’s enthusiastic descriptions of her pony, and even managed to draw a reluctant smile from Isabella with a particularly cutting observation about a mutual acquaintance.

“You’re staring again,” he murmured, a smile playing on his lips.

Beatrice felt heat rise to her cheeks but refused to look away. “Perhaps I enjoy the view,” she whispered.

“Bea!” Eleanor’s voice cut through her thoughts. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”

Beatrice tore her gaze from her husband to find her half-sister pouting across the table, her arms folded in childish indignation.

“Forgive me, darling. What were you saying?” She reached across to squeeze Eleanor’s small hand.

“I was telling you,” Eleanor huffed dramatically, “that Henry is teaching me chess, but he says I’m too impatient. Which is silly because I can sit still for ages when I want to.”

Henry, seated beside his younger sister, rolled his eyes with the weary superiority of his eleven years. “You knocked over the board when I took your queen.”

“Because you cheated!”

“I did not!”

“Children,” Christine interjected with gentle firmness, “perhaps we might save such discussions for after dinner?”