Page 84 of A Family Bargain with the Duke

“Then we have to stop letting it,” Louisa whispered, stepping closer, close enough that barely any distance remained between them, her tears falling freely now.

“It breaks my heart to see you cry. I have caused you enough of that already. I do not intend to cause any more of it, if I can help it.”

“They are not unhappy tears.”

“I know.” His hand cradled her face, both palms warm against her cheeks, his thumbs brushing away her tears with a care that undid her entirely. “I still cannot bear to have caused a single one of them.”

He bent his head and pressed his lips to her forehead, and she closed her eyes, feeling the fear finally loosen its grip on her chest beneath so simple, so tender a gesture.

“I love you,” he murmured against her skin, before drawing back just enough to meet her eyes, his own bright and full of warmth. “I have loved you for longer than I wanted to admit, even to myself. Perhaps since the morning you knelt in front of Kit in the schoolroom and taught him his first sign without asking a single thing of him in return. I did not want to fall in love with you, Louisa. I fought it for months, with every careful argument I had. And I have never once in my life lost a fight so thoroughly, or been so grateful to have lost it.”

Louisa laughed, a small, joyful sound, tears still rolling down her cheeks even as her mouth curled into a smile she could not have suppressed if she’d tried.

“I love you too,” she said. “I think I have for a very long time.”

Julian’s thumb brushed once more beneath her eye, and then he kissed her, slow and certain this time, with a tenderness that spoke of every careful thing he had not allowed himself to say until this moment, his hands cradling her face as though she were something infinitely precious.

Louisa kissed him back with everything she had spent so many weeks refusing to name, finally unafraid.

* * *

Kit was waiting at the top of the front steps when the carriage rolled up the long drive. The moment Louisa stepped down, his hands were moving, quick and urgent, his face wrought with emotion.

“You were gone.”

“I was.” Louisa crossed to him at once, kneeling so they were at eye level, and signed her answer while speaking it aloud for Julian’s benefit. “I am sorry, Kit. I did not mean to be gone for so long.”

Kit’s hands moved again, sharper this time, something fierce beneath that Louisa instantly recognized as a child’s relief and lingering hurt. His eyes watered, and he sniffed angrily as he signed.

“You said you would come every day for lessons. Then you did not come at all.”

“You are right to be angry with me for that.”

“Don’t do it again.”

“I promise you I will not leave that way again,” Louisa said, gently catching his hands in her own before he could withdraw them. “Whatever happens between me and Julian, you will always know where I am and why.”

Kit studied her for a long moment, his dark eyes searching her face for whatever proof he required. Louisa held perfectly still under his scrutiny, letting him take the time he needed.

“Do you promise properly? Not the grown-up kind of promise that means nothing.”

“The real kind. The kind I gave my word to keep and have never once broken.”

His shoulders finally relaxed, apparently satisfied. Then he threw his arms around her neck and pulled her into a fierce brief hug, before pulling away just as quickly.

Julian, watching from beside the carriage, met her eyes over the boy’s shoulder, and Louisa saw in his expression something that mirrored what she felt: relief and tenderness and an aching gratitude for a homecoming she had not expected to be granted three days ago.

Then, apparently embarrassed by his own display, he turned to inspect Eleanor, who was being carried out of the second carriage by her nursemaid, cooing at the sight of him.

“He missed you more than he will admit,” Julian remarked quietly.

“I gathered as much.”

“So did I, if I am being honest, though I suspect I made rather less dignified a show of it than he just did.” Something rueful touched his mouth. “I very nearly threw my arms around your neck the moment you appeared at the front door. I barely restrained myself.”

“How disappointing. I would have liked to see that.”

“Then I shall save the demonstration for a more private occasion, Duchess.”