Chapter 9 #3
“Do you think this lady finds your idea of ‘jesting’ amusing? Do you think it is the business of anyone outside the family to dictate how they should behave?”
The man hesitated, glanced briefly at his companions, then stared at his feet like a small child caught out in a lie. The duke didn’t give him a chance to respond.
“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.”
“Yes.”
Jane lowered her voice slightly. “You think it will happen again?”
“I think caution is warranted.”
“That is not what I asked.”
Hector looked at her properly then. Fully. For once there was no distraction or crowd between them. “I think,” he said, more carefully, “that we have drawn the sort of attention we cannot afford.”
Jane felt her stomach tighten. “From Strachan?” she whispered, careful not to have anyone hear the name of the criminal.
“From people who might be connected to him.”
That name again. Always circling them now like a shadow that refused to settle. Jane folded her arms. “So what, you intend to stop working together?”
“I intend to limit our exposure. I am trying to keep you alive, my lady.”
The words hit home.
Hector’s expression shifted slightly, as if he regretted the edge in his voice but not the truth behind it.
Jane’s voice lowered. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“I know,” Hector said. “But I am doing it anyway.”
Something unspoken passed between them then, too sharp to name, too close to ignore.
He stepped closer. So close that Jane could feel the heat emanating off of him, but not close enough that he was touching her.
Jane’s breath hitched, and she made a small moaning sound that made Hector’s eyes darken with desire.
His jaw tightened slightly. “We shall proceed when I have more certainty.”
Jane turned back to him. “And… until then?”
“Distance.”
Silence fell between them again. Around them, the world continued: laughter, horses, applause from someone in the distance. None of it reached them.
Hector finally spoke again. “I want you to know… This is not personal, my lady.”
Jane let out a short, humorless breath. “It feels personal.”
His gaze flickered just for a second, desire flooding his eyes. Then it was gone again. “I will send word,” he said, “when it is safe to continue.”
Jane searched his expression for something else. Anything else. But he had already stepped back into control.
“I see,” she said finally.
Hector gave a slight nod, then after a pause that felt longer than it should have, he turned slightly as if to leave.
Jane spoke before she could stop herself. “Your Grace.”
He stopped. “Yes?”
Her throat tightened briefly. “Be careful.”
He inclined his head. “Always, my lady.”
And then he was gone.
Jane stood still for a moment longer than necessary, watching the space where he had been until the crowd swallowed it entirely. Only then did she realize Lavinia had returned, observing her carefully from a few steps away.
“Well,” Lavinia said softly, “that looked… complicated.”
Jane blinked once, then straightened. “It really isn’t.”
Lavinia raised an eyebrow.
Jane added more firmly, “It isn’t anything.”
But even as she said it, her gaze drifted back toward the crowd where Hector had disappeared, and stayed there longer than she intended.
Jane told herself, firmly, that she was not going to think about Hector Lockwood tonight. It was an unnecessary and somewhat pointless instruction. Her thoughts disobeyed her immediately.