Page 76 of Stolen By the Rakish Duke
The Duke of Ironstone cleared his throat, his gaze settling on Leo with the scrutiny Beatrice recognized very well.
“I must say, your management of Stagmore has impressed me, especially after our ride this morning,” he admitted, his tone grudgingly respectful. “The new drainage system in the south pastures is particularly effective.”
“Thank you, Duke,” Leo replied, meeting his gaze with steady confidence. “We’ve seen a thirty percent increase in yield since implementation.”
“Fascinating,” Isabella drawled from her place beside Beatrice, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Agricultural innovations… how thrilling.”
Beatrice shot her twin a warning look. Isabella merely raised an eyebrow, unrepentant.
“I find it rather interesting,” Henry piped up unexpectedly. “Father says that a peer who neglects his land neglects his duty.” He turned to Leo with sudden earnestness. “Do you ride fence lines yourself? Father always says that?—”
“That a duke who won’t inspect his own property doesn’t deserve to own it,” Leo finished, smiling at the boy. “Your father is a wise man. And yes, I ride the borders monthly.”
Beatrice watched in amazement as her husband engaged her little brother in serious conversation about estate management, addressing him with the same respect he might show a peer. Henry sat straighter in his chair, chest puffing slightly at being taken so seriously.
“Perhaps you might accompany me tomorrow morning,” Leo suggested.
Henry’s eyes widened with undisguised excitement. “Might I really? Father, may I?”
Beatrice watched her father hesitate, his protective instincts visibly warring with his son’s obvious delight. “If His Grace doesn’t find it an imposition.”
“Not at all,” Leo replied easily. “I’d welcome the company.”
Eleanor tugged at Leo’s sleeve, unwilling to be outdone by her brother. “Will you take me too?”
Leo’s expression softened as he regarded the small face turned trustingly toward him. “Perhaps the day after tomorrow. I understand there are new foals in the stables that require expert assessment.”
“I’m excellent with horses,” Eleanor declared with perfect confidence. “Papa says I have the Hunton way with them.”
“Then I will need your expertise,” Leo agreed with a gravity that made Beatrice’s heart twist unexpectedly.
She caught Christine’s knowing smile across the table and felt her face warm again. Her stepmother had always been unnervingly perceptive, especially when it came to matters of the heart.
“Beatrice tells me you’ve uncovered some fascinating botanical manuscripts,” Christine said, smoothly changing the topic. “Lady Margaret Ashwell’s work, I believe?”
Leo turned to her, surprise flickering in his eyes at the mention of his great-aunt. “Yes, indeed. Beatrice has been instrumental in cataloging the collection. Her insight has been invaluable.”
“Bea always had a head for such things,” her father remarked with gruff pride. “Sharp mind, that girl.”
“Indeed,” Leo agreed, his gaze finding Beatrice’s once more. “Among her many admirable qualities.”
The warmth in his voice sent a tremor through her. This wasn’t the practiced charm he deployed among the ton. This was something real, something honest that he offered without calculation or restraint.
“How perfectly sickening,” Isabella muttered, though not quietly enough.
“You find mutual respect between spouses objectionable, Lady Isabella?” Leo inquired, his tone mild, though his eyes glinted with challenge.
Isabella lifted her chin. “I find pretense objectionable, Your Grace.”
Tension crackled across the table. Beatrice held her breath, uncertain whether to intervene. Leo merely smiled, his expression somehow both dangerous and amused.
“On that, we are in complete agreement,” he said. “Which is why I never engage in it.”
Isabella opened her mouth to retort, but Christine deftly inserted herself into the impending skirmish.
“Eleanor, darling, why don’t you tell the Duke about your new pony? The one with the star on its forehead?”
With the potential confrontation successfully defused, dinner proceeded with relative peace.