Page 98 of Stolen By the Heartless Duke

“I made a promise.”

“I know,” Ambrose said gently.

“I intended to keep it.”

“You have.”

“No.” His voice came out quieter than before. “I lost him. I failed to protect him.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I should have seen something.”

“Hector—”

“I taught him to fight.” He stared at the amber liquid. “I taught him to read people. To defend himself. And somehow…” His grip tightened around the glass. “…he still disappeared.”

Ambrose leaned forward. “You know what I think?”

“I’m certain you’re about to tell me.”

“I think you’re trying to carry responsibility for every decision Evan ever made.”

“I am responsible for him.”

“You were responsible for loving him.”

The distinction lingered. Hector said nothing.

Ambrose continued gently. “You cannot follow a grown man every hour of every day. You couldn’t stop him from gambling. You couldn’t choose his friends. You couldn’t prevent every danger.”

Hector closed his eyes briefly. “I should have tried harder.”

“You always do.”

Another silence. Then Ambrose smiled again, deliberately lightening the mood. “Besides.”

“What now?”

“If Lady Jane eventually marries someone else, you’ll never forgive yourself.”

Hector blinked. “What?”

“The regret will follow you everywhere, my friend.”

Before Hector could respond, a server approached and cleared his throat.

“Your Grace. Lord Redforth. Pardon the interruption.”

“Yes?” Hector replied.

“This came for you, Your Grace,” the servant replied.

Hector and Ambrose exchanged a glance.

Hector barely waited for the footman to close the front door before he broke the seal on the folded note.

The familiar handwriting belonged to Edward Hale, the parliament member who had become one of the government’s quiet investigators into London’s criminal underworld.