Page 157 of Stolen By the Heartless Duke

The morning rain had long since disappeared, leaving the countryside washed clean beneath a brilliant blue sky. Gentle breezes stirred the branches overhead, carrying the scent of wildflowers across the sprawling meadow that belonged to Lavinia’s family estate.

Blankets had been spread beneath ancient oak trees. Servants moved quietly among clusters of guests with baskets of sandwiches, fresh fruit, pastries, and chilled lemonade. Laughter drifted through the warm afternoon as children chased hoops across the grass while older ladies settled beneath parasols to exchange the latest gossip.

Jane stepped down from the carriage, accepting Hector’s offered hand.

He helped her onto the grass with the same quiet attentiveness he showed in private, though now it unfolded beneath dozens of curious eyes.

His fingers lingered around hers for only a moment before propriety required him to let go. Still, the warmth remained.

“You look pleased,” Hector observed.

Jane smiled up at him. “It has been some time since I’ve attended an event without feeling as though the entire room wished to dissect my life.”

“I cannot promise they won’t attempt it today.”

“They undoubtedly will.”

“Fortunately,” he replied dryly, “they must now do so through a duke.”

She laughed. “I suppose that offers a certain advantage.”

“I like to think so.”

Before either could say more, Lavinia hurried toward them, skirts gathered in one hand.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, embracing Jane warmly. “I was beginning to think married life had already made you forget your oldest friend.”

“I should never dare.”

“I hoped not.” Lavinia stepped back with an approving smile. “You look positively radiant.”

Jane felt herself blush. “I’ve only been married a little over a week.”

“I know.” Lavinia’s grin widened as she glanced toward Hector. “I imagine that’s precisely why.”

Jane nudged her friend’s arm. “Lavinia.”

“What?”

“You are impossible.”

“I’ve always been impossible.”

Hector inclined his head politely. “Lady Lavinia.”

“Your Grace.” She regarded him with exaggerated seriousness. “I should warn you that Jane and I have been conspiring together since we were girls.”

“I had already suspected as much.”

“Oh?”

“She has inherited your talent for winning arguments.”

Jane looked at him in mock offense. “I do not always win.”

“No,” Hector agreed. “You simply continue until everyone else surrenders.”

Lavinia laughed so hard she nearly dropped her fan. “I like him, Jane.”