Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Hector moved first. Not in panic, but on instinct.
He stepped slightly in front of Jane and Colin, placing himself between them and the entrance without even thinking about it.
His body had already mapped the angles: exits, cover, distance to weapons, if it came to it.
The same calculations that had kept him alive for years now adjusted to protect two people far more fragile than he had felt on any battlefield.
Jane had gone still beside her brother. Colin, still unsteady, gripped her sleeve.
Then the warehouse doors banged open, and Ambrose stepped through.
Behind him came several men, broad-shouldered, efficient, unmistakably trained. Not guards. Not street muscle. Men who knew how to handle violence and how to end it quickly.
Ambrose’s gaze swept the room once, taking in the aftermath: the fallen Strachan men, the broken crates, Colin, alive, but unsteady and bleeding, Jane standing beside him.
Then his eyes landed on Hector. There was a flicker of relief in his expression, before immediate understanding.
“Well,” Ambrose said lightly, though his voice carried tension underneath it. “You’ve certainly picked the most dramatic place possible to reunite a family.”
Hector did not relax. “Ambrose.”
“Your Grace,” Ambrose replied, and then stepped further inside. Relief overrode any irritation Hector felt toward his friend.
Ambrose’s men spread out without needing instruction, checking corners, securing exits, and disarming the unconscious Strachan men. Efficient. Quiet. Controlled.
One of them tied a man’s hands behind his back and hauled him upright. Another checked pulses. Ambrose watched for a moment, then turned back to Hector.
“Got your message,” he said. “Followed quickly.”
Hector nodded once and smirked. “Good. Thanks.”
Jane stood carefully, still keeping a hand on Colin’s shoulder as if anchoring him to the world. Ambrose’s attention shifted to her. He was polite and curious, but not intrusive.
“My lady,” he said with a small bow. “I’m glad to see you intact.”
Jane inclined her head in return, composed despite the situation. “Lord Redforth.”
Then, before Hector could speak, Jane stepped forward slightly. “Before anything is reported,” she said quickly, “I need your word.”
Ambrose blinked, surprised, then tilted his head. “My word?”
Jane’s gaze flicked briefly to Colin, then back to him.
“My brother has only just been found. If word reaches the authorities immediately, before we understand everything… before we know where Evan is…” Her voice tightened slightly.
“It will become chaos. He will be taken, questioned, and pulled apart. We may lose the trail entirely.”
Ambrose studied her for a moment. Hector watched her as well. There was something steady in her voice. There was fear there, yes, but also control—a refusal to let panic dictate the outcome.
Ambrose sighed. “Very well,” he said. “No official report yet. Not until we decide how this unfolds.”
Jane exhaled slightly, tension easing from her shoulders. “Thank you,” she said.
Ambrose waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t done anything difficult.” He gestured toward the Strachan men being restrained. “This, however, is where I come in.”
One of his men dragged a struggling captive forward. Ambrose’s expression sharpened, less playful now, more focused.
“These men are connected to Strachan,” he said. “And Strachan is already on the list of people I would very much like to see removed from society.”
Hector’s jaw tightened slightly at that phrasing. Ambrose continued, businesslike now. “We’ll take them into custody ourselves. Quietly. Properly. They’ll be handed over to the authorities under circumstances that don’t raise unnecessary questions about your involvement.”
Jane nodded once. She was grateful but still tense.
“And they will talk,” Ambrose added. “Men like this always do when given the right incentives.”
Hector knew that tone. Ambrose did not threaten lightly. But when he did, results followed. One of the Strachan men shouted something unintelligible as he was hauled away. Ambrose didn’t even look at him. Then he turned back to Hector.
“So,” he said. “I assume this is the part where you tell me you’re done with reckless heroics, and returning home to recover from whatever madness has consumed your life this week.”
Hector’s gaze shifted briefly to Jane. Then to Colin. “No,” he said simply.
Ambrose’s eyes narrowed slightly, but his mouth curved with mirth.
Hector continued. “I am going with Lady Jane. Her brother thinks he may know where Evan is.”
Jane turned toward him fully now.
Ambrose let out a low whistle. “Ah.”
Hector ignored him. “We are going to find Evan.”
Colin stiffened at the name, but nodded faintly, as if that truth had already been decided the moment he spoke it aloud.
Ambrose studied Hector for a long moment. Then he smiled. “I thought you might say that,” he murmured.
Hector frowned slightly. “You did not.”
“Oh, I did,” Ambrose replied easily. “I do try to preserve the illusion that you are occasionally predictable.”
Jane’s lips twitched faintly at that despite herself. Ambrose stepped forward then, closer to Hector. His tone shifted, still light, but edged with sincerity now.
“Be careful,” he said. “Strachan doesn’t leave loose ends. And neither do men like him.”
Hector met his gaze. “I am aware.”
Ambrose nodded once, satisfied with that answer, whether he liked it or not. Then he turned slightly, addressing both Jane and Hector now.
“I will handle this end,” he said, gesturing toward the bound men.
“They will be delivered to the authorities. And I will ensure they are questioned thoroughly.” He paused.
“And when they crack,” Ambrose added, almost casually, “they will give us everything we need. Enough to put Strachan in a position where even his influence won’t save him. ”
Colin let out a slow breath. Jane’s shoulders eased a fraction more. Hector felt the weight of momentum shift. Ambrose clapped Hector once on the shoulder.
“Bring Evan back,” he said quietly. “Preferably alive. It would make the paperwork considerably easier.”
Hector huffed a short breath that might have been amusement. Ambrose stepped back.
“Go on then,” he said. “Before I change my mind and decide this is all far too entertaining to leave to you.”
He turned, already barking quiet instructions to his men as they secured the prisoners. The warehouse filled again with controlled movement. Order replacing chaos.
Hector watched it for a moment. Then he looked at Jane. She met his gaze without hesitation. And Colin, though still shaken, straightened slightly. Ready.
Hector exhaled once. “Then we proceed,” he said.
And for the first time since this had begun, the path ahead did not feel like guesswork. They were in pursuit now, rather than being pursued.
“I believe I know where Evan is,” Colin said.
“Where?” Hector demanded.
Jane put a hand on Hector’s arm to calm him. “We have already looked everywhere,” she said, thinking her brother might be feeling the aftereffects of being hit.
“No, there is one last place,” Colin said.
“It is a small cottage out in the country. I can’t be certain he will be there, but if he hasn’t been found already, it is the place I imagine he has chosen to hide out.
” He closed his eyes, exhausted but not defeated.
“Your driver must take the Great North Road out of London, then turn off at Baldock. The cottage lies another three miles beyond the village.”
Colin was fading quickly as Hector helped him into the carriage. The duke relayed his directions to his driver, and they were off.
The road out of London gave way slowly to quieter stretches of countryside, where the noise of the city thinned until it became something distant and almost imagined.
Hector rode in silence for most of it. Not because there was nothing to say, but because anything spoken too soon would have felt fragile, like it might fracture what they were trying to hold together.
Jane rode with determination that did not waver. Colin slept beside her at first, fatigue overwhelming him, but he’d woken as they’d traveled along the more winding lanes. He still looked as though he did not quite believe the world was real.
They did not speak about where they were going until the trees grew thicker and the road narrowed, turning away from the main route entirely. Even then, it was Colin who finally spoke, his voice rough from exhaustion and nervous anticipation.
“It’s just ahead.”
Jane turned slightly. “You’re certain?”
Colin nodded once. “Evan said it was somewhere no one would think to look if things ever went wrong.”
Hector’s gaze sharpened at that.
Colin continued, quieter now. “We used it… when we needed to disappear for a while. Before everything got so complicated.”
Jane did not press him further. She simply nodded.
The cottage appeared gradually, almost reluctant to reveal itself, half-hidden by overgrown hedges and the uneven rise of the land. It was small, weather-worn, and intentionally unremarkable. The kind of place that existed precisely so it would not be remembered.
Hector gestured for the driver to stop. He climbed out first, then helped Jane down. They both helped Colin out of the carriage, who moved more slowly, as if each movement required negotiation with his own body.
He stared at the cottage for a long moment. “This is it,” he said.
Hector said nothing. He simply assessed the structure, the windows, the door, and the lack of any visible movement. Quiet places like this were never truly empty in his experience. They only appeared that way.
Still, he followed as Colin moved toward the door. Jane stayed slightly behind them both, close enough to be part of the decision, but far enough away to observe.
Colin hesitated only once before lifting his hand and knocking. The sound was soft, almost wrong for the moment.