The carriage hadbarely jolted to a stop in front of Rosilee’s home before she flung the door open and leaped out, her slippers landing on the gravel in one seamless motion, leaving Blake and his curses inside.
But how could she wait?
She couldn’t.
She spotted Leopold the moment she lifted her gaze—tall, lean, and looking like he hadn’t eaten a decent meal in days, but still unmistakably her brother. He stood at the entrance, looking agitated and concerned, yet the moment his eyes locked with hers, she saw the tension in his face melt away.
Lord, his face was a beautiful, beloved sight.
Without a second thought, she hitched up her skirts and ran. “Leopold!” she shouted, her voice cracking.
“Rosilee!” He rushed over to her, and she flung herself into his arms. His arms wrapped around her tightly, lifting her off her feet like he had when they were children.
He was really safe.
“By God, you’ve gotten heavier,” Leopold teased, though his voice was tight with emotion as he set her down.
“Heavy! Perhaps I’ve been chomping up all of your troubles! And it’s your own fault for allowing that rat, Baston, to trick you!” Rosilee retorted, punching him in the arm. “How could you do that?”
“I’m sorry,” he said miserably, rubbing the spot. “I made a mistake.”
“Don’t make it again,” Rosilee said, but she was unable to scold her brother too much. They were both safe and unharmed. That was all that mattered.
“I won’t,” Leopold promised, a line forming between his brows when his gaze shifted over her shoulder. Rosilee followed his line of sight, turning just in time to see Blake striding toward them, his expression a medley of concern and irritation—likely because she had bolted from the carriage without so much as a word. He had that look about him again, like a storm barely contained. A look she loved.
“Who, exactly, is that?”
Rosilee’s heart gave a nervous flutter. Right. Introductions. How was she going to explain this? She glanced at Blake, who, while impeccably dashing if plainly attired, looked quite formidable at the moment.
“That,” she said with a wry smile, “is the Duke of Crane. Also known as Blake.”The man of my dreams. My world.
“The Duke of Crane?” Leopold’s voice rose an octave, his brows shooting up so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline. He stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest as he gave Blake a long look. “You’re jesting. The hermit?”
“Don’t call him that!”
Leopold’s expression shifted to one of suspicion, his eyes narrowing as he sized Blake up. “And what, exactly, is a duke doing with my sister?”
Blake, having reached them now, raised a brow, his voice as smooth as ever. “I married your sister since you got yourself, herself, and your home in trouble. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You didwhat?” Leopold spluttered.
“We are not married,” Rosilee exclaimed, then pulled a face at Blake. “Not yet.”
“Not yet?” Leopold croaked.
Blake’s lips quirked, but before he could respond, Rosilee jumped in, eager to smooth over the introduction even though Blake seemed determined to give her brother heart palpitations. “It’s a long story,” she said quickly, linking her arm through Leopold’s. “But suffice it to say, Blake is your future brother-in-law, and the love of my existence.” Her eyes met the duke’s. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him.”
Her brother cleared his throat. Twice. “Well, then, I suppose I owe you a thank you, Your Grace.”
Blake inclined his head, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “It’s not necessary. Helping your sister has been my pleasure. And please, call me Blake.”
Rosilee narrowed her eyes on her brother when he cleared his throat again. “What’s wrong? Something happened, didn’t it?”
“Well . . . speaking of love and in-laws . . . I have news of my own.”
Rosilee blinked. “What is it?”
Leopold rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking sheepish, then glanced back and motioned for someone to come over.
