Page 130 of Stolen By the Heartless Duke

“It would,” Hector answered dryly.

Colin smiled. “We have every intention of staying exactly where we belong.”

Jane nodded. “I think you do.”

She stepped outside beside Hector. The air was cool and carried the scent of damp grass. Behind them, the cottage door remained open. Colin and Evan stood together in the doorway.

Jane raised one hand. They did the same. Then Hector climbed into the waiting carriage before offering her his hand. She accepted it.

As the carriage pulled away, she looked back one final time. The little cottage grew smaller with every turn of the wheels until it disappeared behind the trees. Only then did she settle against the seat.

She did not realize she was crying until Hector quietly handed her his handkerchief. She accepted it with a grateful smile.

“They’re going to be all right,” she whispered.

He looked out at the brightening horizon before answering. “Yes.”

Jane believed it too. She did not realize how tightly she had been gripping the reins until her fingers ached.

The ride back to London had passed in near silence. Dawn had painted the countryside in pale gold, but she had scarcely noticed it. Her thoughts had remained behind in that little cottage, with Colin and Evan standing together in the doorway, watching until she and the duke disappeared around the bend.

They were alive. Together. Free. It was everything she had prayed for. And somehow, it also felt like saying goodbye.

When Wynten House finally came into view, her chest tightened. Home had never looked so familiar, or so changed. She dismounted before the groom could reach her, handing over the reins with distracted thanks, and bidding farewell to the duke with a promise to see him again soon.

“Is Mama awake?” she asked the butler the moment she stepped inside.

The older man bowed. “Her ladyship has been awake since sunrise, my lady. She has been asking after you.”

Guilt pricked at Jane. Her mother had worried through another sleepless night.

“I’ll go to her immediately.”

She climbed the staircase two steps at a time. Outside Lady Wynten’s bedchamber, she paused, smoothing the dust from her riding habit and attempting to compose herself.

She could not tell her everything. Not about Strachan. Not about warehouses and gunmen. Not about nearly losing her own life.

Her mother had already suffered enough.

Jane knocked softly.

“Come in.”

She entered.

Lady Wynten sat beside the window with embroidery forgotten in her lap. The moment she looked up and saw Jane, she stood so abruptly that the embroidery frame clattered onto the floor.

“Jane.” Her mother crossed the room in hurried steps. “You are safe.”

Jane embraced her tightly. “I’m safe.”

Lady Wynten held her at arm’s length, searching her face. “You were gone all night.”

“I know.”

“I feared...” Her mother’s voice trembled. “I feared something dreadful had happened.”

Jane managed a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry. Truly.”