Page 76 of Stolen By the Heartless Duke

“Your jest—as you deem it—was poorly chosen, and wholly inappropriate,” Hector replied. “Apologize at once.”

The man slowly raised his eyes to meet Hector’s. Whatever he saw there decided him.

“My apologies, Lady Jane,” he said stiffly.

Jane inclined her head slightly. “Accepted.”

Hector didn’t move until the group had dispersed, the conversation elsewhere suddenly seeming far more urgent. Eyes still turned their way. Gentlemen’s eyes. But not in malice.

They were interested.

Jane noticed it.

So did Hector.

He said nothing, but his posture had shifted slightly, as if something in him had tightened at the sound. For a moment, it was only Jane and Hector. The noise of Ascot swelled again around them, but here, between them, it felt muted.

“You didn’t need to do that,” Jane said.

“I did.”

“That isn’t an appropriate response.”

“It is sufficient.”

Jane exhaled through her nose. “You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“Answer like you’re being paid by the syllable.”

A faint flicker of amusement crossed his expression. “And you always speak as though people owe you clarity.”

“I prefer honesty.”

“Then you must be frequently disappointed.”

Jane held his gaze. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’ve been occupied.”

“With what?” she pressed.

His eyes flicked briefly away. “Other matters.”

“That is not an answer either.”

“It is the only one I will give here.” Something in his tone made his feelings clear: Not now. Not here. Not where ears can listen.

Jane’s frustration sharpened. “So we’re back to this. You appear, you interfere, you disappear.”

“I did not disappear,” he corrected. “I stepped back.”

“Without a word.”

“After what happened,” he said quietly, “I felt it was necessary.”

Her expression tightened. “You mean the attack.”