Page 21 of Stolen By the Heartless Duke
She rode first to Bow Street.
The building itself did not look impressive. It never did. That, she supposed, was part of its purpose. The Bow Street Runners were meant to blend into the city rather than stand above it.
Inside, the reception was exactly as she feared.
The man behind the desk looked up at her with the mild annoyance of someone interrupted mid-task. When she gave her name and purpose, his expression did not soften.
“Missing persons,” he repeated flatly. “Yes, yes. Lord Wynten. We are aware.”
“I need to know what progress has been made,” Jane said.
“You will be informed when thereisprogress, my lady,” he replied, already looking back down at his papers.
Jane stiffened. “I am his sister.”
“That does not change procedure.”
Another man nearby gave a short laugh under his breath, not bothering to hide it.
Jane took a step forward. “Last night armed men entered my home and abducted my brother in front of half the ton. Surely that accelerates?—”
“It does not accelerate anything, my lady,” the first man interrupted. His tone was weary now, as though she were the one being unreasonable. “These matters require patience.”
“Patience?” she repeated, incredulous. “My brother has been taken.”
“And he is being looked for.”
There was a pause.
Jane looked between them. Neither man met her eyes properly now. One of them shuffled papers. The other leaned back as though the conversation had already ended.
A hot, frustrated pressure built in her chest.
“And if it wereyourbrother?” she asked quietly.
That finally earned her a look, but not the kind she wanted.
The man at the desk gave a thin smile. “Then I would be grateful for the assurance that professionals were handling it.”
Jane held his gaze for a moment longer. “My mother and I shall await your report. Good day, sir.”
Then, she turned sharply and left before she said something she could not take back.
Outside, the air felt colder.
She stood beside her horse for a moment, hands clenched in the reins, forcing herself to breathe evenly.
If Bow Street would not help her, then she would find someone who could not ignore her.
Without fully forming the decision, she swung back into the saddle.
The duke.
The thought came unbidden, and she disliked it immediately. But it persisted anyway, irritatingly logical beneath the emotion.
He had come to her. He believed there had been a connection. And whether she liked him or not, he was at least actively looking.
Jane tightened her grip on the reins and turned her horse north.
