Page 12 of An Offer By the Beastly Duke

His gaze lingered on the boy for a moment longer before he looked up to see Lady Romwich approaching, her steps brisk and hurried, her face set in that guarded mask he had already seen once. She was a mother, a lioness protecting her cub, and it was easy to see how much Nicholas meant to her in the way her eyes softened when she called for him.

But something in her eyes now, as she glanced at him, made Malcolm feel like an intruder on his own lands

Hector was still running in circles around the boy, clearly enjoying the game, and it irritated Malcolm more than it should have. He had grown used to Hector’s rambunctious nature, but the dog was acting like a pup again, disobedient, hard to control.

“Hector,” Malcolm called, his voice low but firm. “Come here, now.”

The dog hesitated, looking back at him, but as if sensing the authority in his tone, Hector stopped mid-circle, panting, and slowly made his way to Malcolm’s side. He sat obediently, his tail wagging as he waited for a command.

Malcolm’s eyes flicked to the boy, who stood there confidently, hands on his hips, looking up at him with bright curiosity. The child was clearly proud of the tricks he had taught the dog.

His heart clenched slightly. He’d once hoped for a child like this. A child he could raise differently, give a life filled with love.

But those dreams had been shattered long ago, and now, seeing the way Nicholas interacted with Hector, it stirred something deep inside him.

The boy reminded him of what had been lost, what he had never truly had a chance to build.

“You should be careful around dogs,” Malcolm said gruffly. “They do not always listen, especially when they are this eager.”

Nicholas didn’t seem to take offense. He puffed out his chest, an air of pride surrounding him. “Hector listens to me. I’ve been teaching him to jump higher and higher to get the stick, and he’s been really good!”

Malcolm tilted his head, interested despite himself. “Teaching him?”

Lady Romwich stood a little to the side, her stance tense, her arms crossed over her chest. Her lips pressed into a thin line, a clear signal that she didn’t trust him. She had every right to; he imagined she trusted him as little as he did her.

Malcolm met her eyes, his head cocked. “I thought I made myself clear the other night, Lady Romwich, that you were not welcome back here. Your son, as innocent as he is, had the same orders from both of us. You ought to teach him to listen better.”

“And I believe you should watch your dog,” she snapped back. “He could hurt Nicholas.”

Malcolm lifted a brow, offended. “Hector barely hunts, despite his breed. He would not hurt the boy.”

The way she looked at him, suspicious, distant, reminded him of the way people had looked at him when he first returned to society.

People saw his scars before they saw his face. They saw his reputation before they saw the man beneath the hard exterior.

“I think it’s time we left, Nicholas,” Penelope said, her voice colder now, but still gentle, and it was clear she knew she had lost their debate.

Nicholas pouted. “But Mama…”

“Now,” Penelope insisted, stepping forward. Her body language was unmistakable; she was drawing a line, a clear boundary between them and him.

Malcolm couldn’t help but be irritated.

He had done nothing but follow Hector’s lead, yet here she was, acting as if he were the problem.

He stared at her, unwilling to back down. “I have already told you, your son was fine with Hector. He wasn’t in any danger.”

Penelope took another step forward, her posture protective as she instinctively moved to stand in front of Nicholas, shielding him as if he were a fragile thing.

“You don’t know that…” Her voice was tight with frustration.

“I know that Hector listens when I speak to him,” Malcolm said, his tone tightening despite himself. “And Nicholas is not in any type of danger.”

The tension crackled between them, sharp as a whip. Neither would back down.

Her anger was fierce, protective, but her defensiveness set off something in him that made him dig his heels in, just a little. He had spent far too long keeping his distance from others, afraid to get close, afraid of what happened when he did.

But there was something in the way Penelope stood there, her face flushed with defiance, her shoulders set, something that made Malcolm want to challenge her, just to see what would happen if he did.