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21. Chapter 21

Chapter twenty-one

"A rogue may charm or conquer, but it’s his silence that often costs him the most." The Rogue’s Guide to Refinement

B oyd yawned awake. He hadn’t slept so soundly in years. As the dream’s haze left him, he stretched his sore muscles. Beth was his now. He’d broken the vow to keep her at arm’s length, and for once, tradition was on his side. Beth would expect a wedding, wouldn’t she? Society’s own rules had fallen into his lap, sparing him the bother of flowery courtships and genteel marriage proposals.

They’d have a quiet Christmas breakfast with the guests, and then, come afternoon, he’d take her to the kirk, say their vows, and put this whole thing to bed. She’d be his bride, her family’s debts seen to, her future secured at his side.

With a lighter heart than he’d had in ages, he reached across the mattress to find her... only to hit empty sheets. He sat up. Surely, she hadn’t left? A society lass like Beth wouldn’t dare wander off after a night like theirs, would she? Likely just getting ready.

He strode down the hallway, the silence thick around him, each step too loud in his ears. Reaching her room, he pushed open the door.

The drawers were half-empty, the little tokens she favored already gone. Where was the cello? His jaw clenched as the sight hit him like a cold slap.

Chest squeezed tight, he descended the stairs to the breakfast room.

Julia clapped her hands, and Anne kissed his cheek. Griffin gave a knowing smile, and Almoster stopped bouncing little Pedro to offer an enigmatic, almost friendly nod.

“Where is the lucky bride?” Anne looked at him strangely, as if she could find Beth in his bloody pockets.

Where indeed.

“She left me.”

Maxwell spilled his coffee, Julia’s hand flew to her mouth, and Anne’s gasp cut through the air. A baby’s startled wail broke the quiet, and Almoster’s expression would frighten a lesser man.

Griffin leaned forward with a frown. “Left you? What did you do to her?”

Boyd’s glare was sharp enough to cut, but before he could reply, Clara padded near, staring at him with her wide blue eyes.

“But Mam?, you told me the princess loved the beast and would marry him.”

Julia’s cheeks flushed. “Children these days, they... well, they hear things.”

Boyd’s chest twisted. She had said she loved him. Why would she leave if she loved him?

He sank into the nearest chair, his hands gripping the armrests as his guests watched him in a silence that felt heavier than the Douro’s winter mist. Julia and Anne exchanged a glance, their earlier amusement now tinged with something closer to pity. Griffin opened his mouth as if to say something but thought better of it, his frown deepening.

Almoster narrowed his eyes, his voice solemn. “Sometimes honor means leaving when it would be easier to stay.”

Leaving because of honor? That made no sense—unless... Boyd’s mind reeled, piecing together the moments he’d been too blind to see clearly. The knot in his stomach twisted tighter. He had given her no reassurances. He had assumed she would take his vow to marry her if he ruined her as enough. But it wasn’t.

Beth had left because she cared enough to give him a choice, to set him free of obligation.

Boyd’s breath caught in his chest. She hadn’t walked away for her pride. She had done it for him. To protect him from the weight of a promise he might not be ready to offer.

“She left me to take me off the hook.” The truth settled like an ache in his bones.

The daft, honorable lass. She’d walked away not because she didn’t love him, but because she did.

“Will the princess return?” Clara said, her gaze finding Boyd’s.

He pressed a hand to his temple, forcing down the gnawing doubt that rose in him. What if she won’t come back? He clenched his jaw, refusing to let the thought take root.

The room erupted into a buzz of suggestions, everyone speaking at once.

Julia clicked her tongue. “You have to speak to her. She is an intelligent, sensible girl. I’m sure she will listen to reason.”

Anne shook her head, lips pressed into a thoughtful line. “No, it calls for a grand, romantic gesture. Something heartfelt that will sweep her off her feet.”

Almoster voice rose above the dim of their well-meaning suggestions. “I have a cavalry regiment stationed in Peso da Régua. One wire from me, and we can stop her train. You’d have your bride back in time for Christmas lunch.”

Boyd shook his head. “I can’t win her that way. No more schemes. I’ll have to ask for her hand like a proper gentleman.” He owed it to her. Even if it meant facing her father.

Griffin slapped his back. “I know Croft well enough—I can handle that man. I’ll make him see reason if it comes to that.”

Boyd could only watch, torn between amusement and awe, as his friends plotted and planned.

Just as he opened his mouth to protest, a small voice piped up.

“Will he have to slay another dragon to bring Princess Beth back?” Clara asked, her face flushed with excitement.

Boyd narrowed his eyes. “Another?”

Julia pulled her daughter close with a chuckle, glancing at Boyd with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Why? Weren’t you and Beth slaying dragons last night? It sounded as if you had a full party of them upstairs.”

Boyd’s jaw tightened as laughter rippled through the group. He crouched to Clara’s height, doing his best to ignore the heat creeping up his neck and the knowing smirks surrounding him.

“It was a fierce one, lass,” he said, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Big as a house, with claws sharp enough to cut through steel.”

Clara gasped, her little hands clasping together. “Did you use a sword?”

Aye, he did. All night. Boyd’s back was sore, his thighs aching like he’d truly gone to battle. But he wasn’t about to explain that to a lass of five—or this gaggle of smug adults. The grins on their faces only deepened, and he shot them a withering glare before turning to Clara.

“No sword needed, lass. Just quick thinking and Highland grit. The dragons are gone now, and they won’t be comin’ back.”

“But what if—”

“Here.” He fished into his pocket, pulling out a silver coin and pressing it into her hand. “Buy some sweets.” Or ear plugs...

Boyd turned to the rest of the room. Their mirth faded, and they eyed him expectantly, each of whom was willing to ride out with him to bring Beth back. Their loyalty wrapped around him like a mantle, filling the spaces he hadn’t realized were empty. This was what it felt like to belong, to have people who wanted the best for him, not out of duty or debt, but out of care.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice roughened by emotion. “I couldn’t wish for a better family this Christmas. But this is something I have to do alone. Stay here, enjoy my lousy hospitality, and I promise I’ll bring Beth back.”

Cheers and clapping followed him as he turned on his heel. The crisp morning air bit his skin, but it couldn’t cool the fire that burned in his chest. With renewed purpose, Boyd strode across the front drive, his boots crunching against the frostbitten gravel.

Reggie awaited him with his horse, the lad standing stiff as a church steeple, the reins clutched tightly in his gloved hands. Boyd vaulted into the saddle with practiced ease, already bracing himself for the long, cold hours—first to the station, then to Oporto.

He nudged the stallion forward but reined in sharply at the sight ahead—three workers circling the fountain like vultures around a carcass.

His eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you doing?”

The nearest worker hesitated, a crowbar in one hand and a sheepish look on his face. “We’ve orders to tear it down, sir.”

Boyd’s gaze darted to the bears. His bears. The stone creatures stood shivering in the pond. Damn it if they didn’t resemble Highlander bears in the morning light.

“You touch my bears,” he growled, his voice a low rumble, “and I’ll ensure you regret it.”

The workers exchanged confused glances, their tools lowering as Boyd’s steely glare pinned them in place. Without another word, he nudged his horse into motion, the beast kicking up a plume of dust as they cantered toward the train station.

Over his shoulder, he called out, “Find something else to break. The blasted roof, for all I care. But leave the bloody bears alone.”

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