Page 107 of Stolen By the Heartless Duke

His normally immaculate cravat was gone. His waistcoat had been ripped. Dark rope burns circled both wrists.

Jane’s vision blurred. She had spent every waking moment imagining what might have happened to him. None of those imaginings had been cruel enough.

“Oh, Colin…” Her fingers trembled as she reached for the ropes binding his chest. “Hector.”

“I have them.” He was already cutting through the thicker knots securing the chair.

Jane worked on the ropes around Colin’s wrists with frantic fingers while Hector sliced through those around his ankles. The coarse hemp scraped her skin, refusing to loosen.

“Come loose…” She swallowed hard, pulling harder. “Please…”

Finally, one knot slipped. The rope fell away. Another followed. Hector cut through the final binding around Colin’s chest.

The earl sagged forward immediately. Jane caught him before he could collapse.

“Careful.”

Together, she and Hector eased him upright. His head lolled against her shoulder. His skin felt frighteningly cold despite the warmth of the summer night. Jane brushed the tangled hair away from his forehead.

“Colin?”

No response.

She touched his cheek. “Colin. Colin, wake up.” His brow twitched. Encouraged, she leaned closer. “You must wake.”

His lips moved. Nothing intelligible emerged. She squeezed his hand.

“It’s Jane.”

Slowly, his eyelids fluttered open, just once, before they closed again. Jane smiled through tears.

“That’s it.” She stroked his arm. “Come back to us.”

Several long moments passed. Then his eyes opened again, cloudy and unfocused. He stared somewhere over her shoulder, blinking slowly, as though struggling to understand what he was seeing.

Jane offered the smallest smile she could manage. “It’s all right.”

His gaze drifted toward her face. Confusion crossed his bruised features. He frowned. “…Jane?”

“Yes.”

His expression remained bewildered. “No...” His voice emerged hoarse enough to sound almost unrecognizable. “No...”

Jane leaned closer. “It is.”

He continued staring. “You…” He gave a weak, disbelieving laugh that nearly became a cough. “I’ve finally gone mad.”

Jane’s heart shattered. He truly believed he was imagining her. She carefully slid one arm around his shoulders.

“No.” Her own tears spilled freely now. “You are not imagining me.”

She hugged him as gently as she dared, terrified of worsening whatever injuries lay beneath his ruined clothing.

“It’s over.” Her cheek rested lightly against his battered temple. “I’m here.”

She felt him freeze. Then, slowly, almost fearfully, his arms lifted. He was shaking as he wrapped them around her.

Jane closed her eyes. For the first time since the kidnapping, her brother embraced her. He buried his face against her shoulder.