Page 87 of Stolen By the Rakish Duke

Rather than the anxiety such scrutiny would have provoked months ago, she found herself oddly immune, anchored by Leo’s steady presence beside her.

Lord and Lady Haverford descended upon them next, Lady Haverford’s elaborate turban bobbing precariously as she embraced Beatrice.

“Such a delight to see you both!” she exclaimed. “We missed you terribly at the Pembrookes’ garden party last week.”

“An unavoidable engagement in the country,” Leo explained smoothly.

“Ah, the early days of marriage.” Lord Haverford winked conspiratorially. “I understand perfectly, Stagmore. Newlyweds require privacy.”

Beatrice felt her cheeks warm, but Leo merely smiled. “Your understanding does you credit, Haverford.”

Lady Haverford leaned closer to Beatrice. “You must tell me your secret, my dear. I’ve never seen His Grace so… domesticated. Half the matrons in London are in despair that you’ve managed to do what their daughters couldn’t.”

“No secret,” Beatrice replied, surprised by her own boldness. “Perhaps he simply wasn’t ready until now.”

Lady Haverford’s eyes widened at the implication, and Leo’s hand tightened slightly on Beatrice’s waist—whether in warning or appreciation, she couldn’t tell.

“How refreshingly candid,” Lady Haverford declared, clearly delighted by this hint of scandal. “You must sit with me at dinner next week. I insist.”

Before Beatrice could respond, Lord Tillfield appeared at Leo’s elbow, a glass of champagne in each hand.

“Forgive the interruption,” he said, bowing to the Haverfords. “I’ve been instructed to deliver these to our lovebirds before Lady Jersey steals them for the remainder of the evening.”

Lord Haverford laughed. “Lady Jersey does have a reputation for extracting confidences. Come, my dear, let’s greet the Countess of Whitley before she notices our absence.”

As the Haverfords drifted away, Adrian handed the champagne to Leo and Beatrice with an exaggerated flourish.

“You’re looking positively radiant, Your Grace,” he said to Beatrice. “Marriage clearly suits you.”

“Thank you, Lord Tillfield. Your approval means the world to me.”

He chuckled. “She’s developed quite the sting, Leo. I approve wholeheartedly.”

Leo’s eyes never left Beatrice’s face. “She’s always had it. You’re simply seeing it now because she deems you worthy of the effort.”

Something warm unfurled in Beatrice’s chest at his defense. The Leo she had first met would never have acknowledged her quiet strength so openly. He would have maintained the polite fiction that ladies were delicate creatures in need of protection from harsh realities. Yet here he stood, proudly recognizing the steel beneath her soft exterior.

“A fair assessment,” Adrian conceded. He glanced over his shoulder. “I should warn you, Lady Jersey is approaching, and she’s bringing reinforcements. Brace yourselves.”

Sure enough, Lady Jersey appeared moments later, accompanied by the formidable Countess of Barlow, bothwomen bearing the determined expressions of gossip-hunters who had sighted rare prey.

“Your Grace!” Lady Jersey trilled, taking Leo’s free hand. “We were beginning to think you’d retired permanently to the country. Such a relief to see you’ve merely been… occupied.”

Her suggestive tone left little doubt as to what she imagined had occupied them.

Beatrice felt her cheeks warm, but lifted her chin, refusing to be embarrassed by the happiness she had found.

“London has its charms,” Leo replied, smoothly freeing his hand. “But sometimes one requires more… intimate surroundings.”

Lady Barlow’s eyes widened at his directness. “Indeed. Though one mustn’t forget one’s social obligations. People talk, you know.”

“I don’t care a whit,” Leo said, his tone light but his eyes sharp. “I find myself increasingly indifferent to gossip these days.”

“How novel,” Lady Jersey remarked. “A duke, unconcerned about his reputation? Marriage can change a gentleman, indeed.”

“For the better, I hope,” Beatrice interjected, surprising herself with her boldness.

Lady Jersey’s gaze flickered between them, assessing. Whatever she saw must have satisfied her, for her expression softened fractionally.