Page 6 of Stolen By the Heartless Duke
The voice pulled her from her thoughts. She turned. Lord Maltby approached through the crowd. His dark coat was immaculate. Not a button out of place. Not a hair disturbed.
Jane felt an odd flash of relief. At least someone familiar remained. Surely, he had come to offer support or to ask after her mother. Something. Anything. They were engaged after all.
“My lord.”
He bowed stiffly. “May I have a word?”
They moved toward the edge of the room, away from the departing guests. Maltby folded his hands behind his back.
Without preamble, he said, “I believe our engagement cannot continue.”
Jane stared at him. The words barely registered. “Pardon?”
“In light of tonight’s events…”
For a moment, she honestly thought he meant postponing the wedding. It seemed reasonable enough. Everything had changed the moment the gunmen had entered the ballroom.
“We can discuss that later,” she said tiredly. “Naturally the wedding should wait until my brother is found.”
A flicker of discomfort crossed his face. “No. You misunderstand me. I mean the engagement itself.”
Jane stared at him, not comprehending what he had been saying. “You wish to end it?”
“Yes.”
Jane blinked. Of all the things she had expected tonight, this had not been one of them. Though, if she were being honest withherself, she had never felt the remotest romantic feeling toward Lord Maltby.
Their match had made sense. He possessed a respectable title. She possessed a respectable family. Both parties had approved.
“My brother has just been kidnapped,” Jane said, wondering if Lord Maltby had missed that small detail.
His jaw tightened. “I am aware.”
“My mother collapsed.”
Maltby gave a curt nod. “I know.”
“And you choosethismoment?” Jane could hear the hiss entering her voice and fought to control it.
Maltby sighed. “My lady, please try to understand.” The use of her given name suddenly felt inappropriate. “This situation creates difficulties.”
“Difficulties?”
Maltby had the grace to look uncomfortable. “Your family is now connected to a criminal investigation.”
Jane stared at him. The sheer selfishness of the statement left her speechless.
“Surely you understand my position…” he mumbled.
She didn’t. Perhaps she should have. Perhaps this was who Lord Maltby had always been. A man who measured everything according to convenience. A man who could witness tragedy and immediately calculate how it affected him.
“You fear gossip.”
His silence answered her.
A strange calm settled over her. She was not heartbroken over this revelation; she was disappointed. She saw him clearly now. She had assumed that the respect she felt for him would eventually grow into affection. Now she knew she could never respect him.
“Very well,” she said.
