Chapter 2 #2
Jane’s irritation surged. “No, not that I know of.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
The relentless questions made Jane angry. They felt accusatory in some way that she could not pinpoint, as though the duke was building a case against Colin. She couldn’t, for the life of her, figure out why he would do that.
She rose to her feet.
The duke looked up. “Lady Jane?”
“My brother has been kidnapped.” Her voice was icy.
The duke stood as well. “I am aware.”
“And yet you’ve spent the last half hour speaking about him like he’s a criminal,” Jane said.
His expression hardened. “I’m attempting to find answers.”
“By implying Colin is responsible for your brother’s disappearance?” Jane asked.
“I implied no such thing,” said the duke.
“You practically demanded evidence.”
The duke took a step forward. “I asked questions.”
“You accused him.”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t know your brother.”
“No, you don’t.” Jane’s pulse hammered.
She was exhausted, frightened, and heartbroken about Colin. She would not sit here while a stranger questioned his character. Even if that stranger happened to be a duke.
She pointed toward the door. “You should leave, Your Grace. The hour grows late.”
The duke didn’t move. Jane’s anger sharpened further.
“Your Grace, it has been a long night. I would like to retire.”
His gaze remained fixed on her. Jane had the distinct feeling that the conversation was far from over. And something in the duke’s expression suggested he had no intention of walking away.
The duke did not move. Jane had never understood how some men could dominate a room merely by standing in it. She understood it now.
“And I told you,” he replied evenly, “that I am not leaving.”
Jane stared at the duke. His gaze lingered on her intently, and it seemed that he might be trying to stare straight into her soul. The longer they stared at one another, the warmer Jane felt. Her cheeks heated and she could feel a light perspiration breaking out on her upper lip.
Surely, she should look away, she thought, as her blood pounded through her ears. And yet, she could not. His jaw moved subtly from side to side as if he was chewing on the problem.
The fire crackled softly in the grate, but it sounded absurdly loud in the silence.
“What precisely do you mean by that?” she asked.
His jaw tightened. “I mean I intend to discover what happened to my brother.”
Jane folded her arms. “Then I suggest you continue your inquiries elsewhere.”
“I intend to.” His gaze sharpened. “But I also intend to discover what your brother got mine into.”
Outrage flared through her. “There it is,” she scoffed.
The duke arched a brow. “There what is?”
“The accusation.” She took a step towards him. “I knew that was what this was truly about.”
His expression did not change. “You know nothing, my lady.”
“Oh, I know quite enough, Your Grace.” Jane lifted her chin in defiance. “You arrive uninvited in the middle of the night, demand access to my brother’s papers, question his character, and imply that he is somehow responsible for your brother’s disappearance.”
“I implied no such thing.”
“You practically shouted it.”
The duke exhaled slowly. “I am speaking as a man looking for answers.”
“You are speaking as a brother looking for someone to blame.” The words landed harder than she intended.
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then he said quietly, “You think me unfair.”
Jane gave a humorless laugh. “That is the politest description available.”
His brows knitted, and he tilted his head to the side. “You have a very sharp tongue, my lady.”
“So I have been told.”
“I imagine often,” the duke said.
“Only by men who deserve it.”
His mouth twitched.
The duke took a slow step forward. “You speak with remarkable confidence for someone who knows nothing about my brother.”
Jane refused to retreat. “And you speak with remarkable arrogance for someone who knows nothing about mine.”
His eyes darkened. “I have spent years cleaning up after fools.”
“And Colin has spent years managing an earldom.” Jane folded her arms.
“A man can manage an estate and still make foolish decisions.”
Jane scoffed and looked straight at him. “Oh, yes, of that, I’m certainly sure.”
The duke’s eyes narrowed in on her, and heat crawled unexpectedly up her spine.
Good heavens. The man should not have been permitted to possess eyes like that. Or shoulders. Or a voice that sounded as though it belonged in sinful places.
Jane immediately resented herself for the thought.
The duke seemed to notice her brief distraction. His gaze lowered. Just slightly. Enough to make her aware of herself. Enough to make her pulse stumble. Then his eyes lifted again. Slowly. The movement felt entirely inappropriate.
“Careful, Lady Jane.” The words were soft, much softer than before.
Jane’s stomach tightened. “Careful of what?”
“Of assuming you know everything.”
She stepped closer. Close enough that propriety had already been abandoned. Close enough that she could see faint shadows beneath his eyes.
The signs of sleepless nights. The signs of worry. Of fear. Perhaps even grief.
It unsettled her. Because suddenly he seemed less like an infuriating duke and more like a man desperately searching for someone he loved.
Just as she was.
“No man is a saint.” His gaze sharpened. “Not even your brother.”
She stiffened. “There is not a single thing you could tell me about Colin that would make me believe he deserves whatever happened tonight.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw, and he stepped forward. Jane held her ground, which was a terrible mistake because now there was so little distance between them that his cologne enveloped her senses.
“I did not say he deserved it,” the duke said.
Her pulse raced. His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth. Then rose again.
Jane forgot what she had been about to say. The realization irritated her immediately.
The duke’s gaze swept over her once more. Heat bloomed beneath her skin. She hated that he noticed. And she hated even more that he seemed to enjoy noticing.
“Very well.” The duke straightened. “I will get my answers. Whether you help me or not.”
Jane forced herself to regain some dignity. “I have told you everything I know, Your Grace.”
“Perhaps.” He turned toward the door. “Or perhaps you simply do not know which answers matter.”
Before she could formulate a response, he was already moving. Jane followed him through the parlor’s threshold as he opened the door.
For a moment, he paused. Then he looked back at her. The moonlight caught the hard lines of his face.
“We will speak again, Lady Jane.”
It sounded less like a possibility and more like a promise. Jane folded her arms.
“I hope not; it will not be required.”
His gaze lingered long enough to make her pulse stumble again. Then he inclined his head and moved into the corridor, where the butler was standing.
“Your Grace,” the butler bowed, and escorted him to the back of the house.
Silence rushed into the corridor.
Jane remained exactly where she stood. Only when she was absolutely certain he was gone did she finally release a long breath.
Good heavens.
Her heart was pounding as though she had sprinted across Hyde Park. She pressed a hand against her chest. The rapid rhythm beneath her palm refused to slow.
Her brother was missing. Her family was in crisis. Her engagement had collapsed.
And yet… her mind was drawn back to the duke demanding answers just as much as she did.
The following morning dawned gray and heavy over Wynten House. Jane had slept for perhaps two hours. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Colin being dragged across the ballroom floor. Every time she drifted off, she’d hear the gunshot.
By breakfast, her nerves felt scraped raw. Her mother looked little better. Lady Wynten sat in the morning room clutching a cup of tea with trembling hands. The dark circles beneath her eyes seemed more pronounced than they had the previous evening.
Jane was attempting to coax her into eating a piece of toast when the butler appeared in the doorway.
“Lord Zachary Deverell to see you, my lady.”
Her mother’s face brightened immediately. “Zachary?”
Jane’s stomach sank. Of all the people she wished to see that morning, her uncle ranked near the bottom.
“Show him in,” Lady Wynten said.
A moment later, Zachary Deverell strode into the room. He was a tall man in his late forties, broad around the middle, with thinning dark hair, and sharp features that always reminded Jane of a fox eyeing a henhouse.
“My dear sister-in-law.” He spread his arms dramatically.
Lady Wynten rose at once. “Zachary.”
He kissed her cheek. “I came as soon as I heard.” His expression shifted into one of practiced sympathy. “What a dreadful business.”
Jane watched him carefully. Her uncle had always possessed a talent for sounding sincere while meaning very little. He turned toward her.
“Dear Jane.”
“Uncle.”
For a moment, he looked appropriately grave. “I was horrified when the news reached me.”
Lady Wynten dabbed at her eyes. “I cannot bear to think what may have happened to Colin.”
“Of course not.” Zachary sighed heavily. “Poor boy.”
Jane nearly frowned. Poor boy? Colin was thirty years old. The earl. Yet Zachary sounded as though he were discussing a troublesome child.
Her uncle wandered toward the window. “Such shocking circumstances.” His gaze traveled around the room. Jane immediately disliked the look in his eyes. He was assessing. As though he were taking inventory.
“Has there been any word?” he asked.
“No,” Lady Wynten whispered.
“Nothing at all. A pity.” His tone struck Jane as odd. Not sad or worried, just…thoughtful.
He moved toward the mantel and examined one of the clocks. “Hmm.”
Jane’s suspicion deepened. “Uncle?”
He glanced over. “Yes?”
“Is something troubling you?”
A smile flickered across his face. “Only the state of this house.”
Jane blinked, confusion infusing her words. “The house?”
“Indeed.” He ran a finger across the mantel. “Honestly, Colin never did understand proper management.”
The room went still. Lady Wynten frowned. “Zachary?”