Page 16 of Stolen By the Heartless Duke

She stepped closer. Close enough that propriety had already been abandoned. Close enough that she could see faint shadows beneath his eyes.

The signs of sleepless nights. The signs of worry. Of fear. Perhaps even grief.

It unsettled her. Because suddenly he seemed less like an infuriating duke and more like a man desperately searching for someone he loved.

Just as she was.

“No man is a saint.” His gaze sharpened. “Not even your brother.”

She stiffened. “There is not a single thing you could tell me about Colin that would make me believe he deserves whatever happened tonight.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw, and he stepped forward. Jane held her ground, which was a terrible mistake because now there was so little distance between them that his cologne enveloped her senses.

“I did not say he deserved it,” the duke said.

Her pulse raced. His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth. Then rose again.

Jane forgot what she had been about to say. The realization irritated her immediately.

The duke’s gaze swept over her once more. Heat bloomed beneath her skin. She hated that he noticed. And she hated even more that he seemed to enjoy noticing.

“Very well.” The duke straightened. “I will get my answers. Whether you help me or not.”

Jane forced herself to regain some dignity. “I have told you everything I know, Your Grace.”

“Perhaps.” He turned toward the door. “Or perhaps you simply do not know which answers matter.”

Before she could formulate a response, he was already moving. Jane followed him through the parlor’s threshold as he opened the door.

For a moment, he paused. Then he looked back at her. The moonlight caught the hard lines of his face.

“We will speak again, Lady Jane.”

It sounded less like a possibility and more like a promise. Jane folded her arms.

“I hope not; it will not be required.”

His gaze lingered long enough to make her pulse stumble again. Then he inclined his head and moved into the corridor, where the butler was standing.

“Your Grace,” the butler bowed, and escorted him to the back of the house.

Silence rushed into the corridor.

Jane remained exactly where she stood. Only when she was absolutely certain he was gone did she finally release a long breath.

Good heavens.

Her heart was pounding as though she had sprinted across Hyde Park. She pressed a hand against her chest. The rapid rhythm beneath her palm refused to slow.

Her brother was missing. Her family was in crisis. Her engagement had collapsed.

And yet… her mind was drawn back to the duke demanding answers just as much as she did.

The following morning dawned gray and heavy over Wynten House. Jane had slept for perhaps two hours. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Colin being dragged across the ballroom floor. Every time she drifted off, she’d hear the gunshot.

By breakfast, her nerves felt scraped raw. Her mother looked little better. Lady Wynten sat in the morning room clutching a cup of tea with trembling hands. The dark circles beneath her eyes seemed more pronounced than they had the previous evening.

Jane was attempting to coax her into eating a piece of toast when the butler appeared in the doorway.