Page 166 of Stolen By the Heartless Duke

Hector frowned.

“Think instead about whether you’d like to spend the rest of your life making your wife smile.”

Without waiting for an answer, Ambrose disappeared toward the card room. Hector remained alone. His whiskey sat forgotten.

For the first time in days, he admitted something to himself. He missed her. Not simply sharing meals or exchanging polite conversation.

He missed hearing her laugh across the breakfast table. He missed the way she wandered into his study asking impossible questions while pretending not to distract him. He missed the feel of her hand finding his without thought.

He had hidden from her because he feared disappointing her. Instead, he had already done exactly that. He was still sitting there when a servant approached.

“Your Grace?”

Hector looked up.

“A messenger has just arrived.” The servant extended a sealed note. “The gentleman said it was urgent.”

Hector recognized the handwriting before breaking the seal. It belonged to the member of parliament who had been quietly assisting their investigation into Phineas Strachan: Edward Hale.

His pulse quickened. He unfolded the paper.

Urgent. Meet me immediately. It concerns Strachan. Come alone.

The letter contained nothing more. No explanation. No location beyond the familiar government offices where they had met before.

Hector was already rising. “Have my carriage brought around at once.”

“Immediately, Your Grace.”

Within moments he had collected his hat and gloves. Whatever news awaited him, it was significant enough that his acquaintance had committed it to paper, despite the risk.

There was only one reason he could imagine. After weeks of silence, someone or something had finally moved against Phineas Strachan. And Hector intended to learn exactly who or what it was.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Jane almost declined the invitation.

The note had arrived shortly after breakfast, delivered by one of Zachary’s footmen. Its contents were brief and formal.

Lady Jane,

There are matters concerning the Wynten estate accounts that require your attention. I expect you at my townhouse this afternoon.

Zachary Deverell.

She had stared at the letter for several minutes.

Since her marriage, Zachary had made no attempt to contact her. She had assumed Hector’s warning at the ball had finally accomplished what years of endurance never had.

Apparently not.

Estate accounts. The words troubled her.

Though Zachary remained only the steward until Colin was officially declared missing, he still oversaw the management of the earldom. It was not impossible that something genuinely required her attention.

Against her better judgment, she decided to go. Perhaps it would finally settle whatever business remained between them. The carriage stopped before Zachary’s townhouse shortly after noon.

Jane stepped onto the pavement and looked up at the imposing brick residence. Everything appeared perfectly ordinary. The butler admitted her almost immediately.