Chapter 17 #2
Jane agreed, “It may.”
“And if she cannot understand?”
Jane’s smile softened. “Then I shall remind her who she is.”
He frowned. “Our mother loves her children more than she loves titles.”
A shadow of relief crossed Colin’s face. “And Father? What would he think of me?”
Jane’s eyes glistened again. “Our father spent every day teaching us to be kind. He never once taught us to sacrifice happiness for appearances.”
Colin covered his face with one hand. “I wanted to be the son he deserved.”
“You already were.”
“I failed,” Colin said.
“No.”
“I abandoned everything.”
“You survived.”
“I ran.”
“To protect the man you love.” Her voice never wavered. “I think Father would have admired your courage.”
Silence answered her. Hector watched Colin crumble. He shed the grief he seemed to have been storing up like a second skin, relief flooding in. Years of fear seemed to melt from the man’s shoulders.
He looked younger. Hector caught a glimpse of the cheerful young lord everyone had described before duty claimed him.
Then Colin looked toward Hector. “So...” A tired smile appeared. “I imagine this is the part where Your Grace tells us we are both fools.”
Hector met his gaze. “I considered it.”
Evan sighed. “I deserve worse.”
“No.”
Both men looked at him. Hector folded his hands behind his back. “I deserved an explanation.”
“You did.”
“I deserved honesty.”
“Yes.”
Hector said, “You should have trusted me.”
Evan lowered his head. “I know.”
“I would have helped, but you never gave me the chance,” Hector chided.
“I was afraid.” The honesty in Evan’s voice left no room for anger. “I knew what you would do.”
“What?” Hector couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice.
“You would have come after me.”
“I would.” Hector acquiesced.
“You would have confronted Strachan.”
“Without hesitation.”
“You would have been killed.”
Hector opened his mouth. Then closed it again. Because Evan was right. He would have ridden straight into danger. He would have found Strachan and forced a confrontation.
For the first time, he understood why Evan had kept the secret. Not because he doubted Hector, but because he knew him.
“I could not lose you too,” Evan said quietly.
The words struck harder than Hector expected.
He looked at his younger brother. And for the first time in a long time saw the brother who he loved so dearly.
Not the youth he had spent years trying to guide.
Not the troublemaker. A man looking back at him with the same nervous hope he had worn as a child after breaking something valuable.
Hector’s anger dissolved. He crossed the room.
Evan straightened instinctively. “I’m sorry,” Evan whispered.
Hector stopped in front of him. “You are alive. That is enough.”
Emotion flooded Evan’s face. Without another word, he stepped forward and embraced his brother. Hector froze. Physical affection had never come naturally to him. Awkwardly, he lifted one arm. He patted Evan’s back once.
It felt inadequate.
Evan laughed quietly through tears. “You truly are dreadful at this.”
“I have never claimed otherwise.”
“I missed you.”
Hector closed his eyes briefly. “I missed you too.”
When they stepped apart, Hector reached inside his coat. He withdrew a leather purse.
Evan frowned immediately. “No.”
Hector placed it into his brother’s hand anyway. “You will need it.”
Evan tried handing it back.
Hector refused to take it. “You intend to disappear.”
“Only for a while.”
“Then disappear comfortably.”
Evan looked genuinely distressed. “I have earned none of this.”
Hector’s expression hardened just enough to end the argument. “You are my brother.”
Evan slowly closed his fingers around the purse. His eyes shone. “Thank you.”
Hector nodded once.
Across the room, Colin cleared his throat. “I shall repay you.”
“You may repay me by keeping him out of trouble.”
A surprised laugh escaped everyone. Even Hector. The sound lingered warmly through the cottage. Jane smiled at him. He caught her watching.
There was something in her eyes he could not define. Whatever it was, it settled somewhere deep inside him. She believed people deserved happiness. He wondered when he had forgotten that.
Jane stepped closer to both brothers. “There is one condition.”
Colin smiled faintly. “I suspected there might be.”
“You write. Often.” Jane said.
“We will. I promise.”
She looked toward Evan. “I expect letters from both of you.”
“You shall have them.”
Hector inclined his head. “I expect letters as well. If months pass without word...”
“You’ll come looking.”
The four of them stood together in the little cottage, surrounded by worn furniture and creaking floors. Nothing about the place suggested history had quietly shifted inside its walls.
Two missing men had been found. Two families had been remade. Two siblings had offered each other freedom instead of obligation.
Hector glanced once more toward Jane. She caught his eye. Neither spoke. They did not need to. Something had changed between them.
Watching her surrender everything she stood to gain for her brother’s happiness had stripped away another layer of the walls he had built around himself. He had spent years believing love demanded sacrifice. Jane had shown him something different.
Love sometimes asked only that you let another person choose.
Outside, the countryside lay wrapped in darkness.
The wind had quieted, leaving only the occasional rustle of branches against the roof, and the steady chirp of distant crickets.
Inside, the fire burned low, its amber glow dancing across rough stone walls that had witnessed countless ordinary evenings.
Tonight, there was nothing ordinary about it.
Evan and Colin had finally retired to the tiny bedroom. Neither brother had wanted to be separated after everything that had happened.
Jane had insisted. “You have earned one peaceful night’s sleep,” she had said with a tired smile.
No one had argued. That left the main room. Jane had claimed the narrow sofa with Hector’s insistence that at the bare minimum she try to be comfortable.
He had resigned himself to the floor without another word. He had slept in far worse places. He had just finished spreading an extra blanket over the wooden boards when he heard the soft rustle of skirts behind him.
“You truly mean to sleep there?”
He glanced over his shoulder. Jane stood near the hearth, one hand resting against the worn mantel.
“It is only one night.”
She frowned. “The floor is terribly hard.”
“I have survived military drills.”
She laughed quietly. Something about hearing her laugh after the horrors of the past weeks eased a knot inside his chest he had not realized was there.
She crossed the room and lowered herself onto the rug before the fire instead of returning to the sofa. The flames painted warm gold across her face.
He hesitated before joining her. Not too close, just close enough that the fire warmed both of them. For a while neither spoke. The silence felt companionable.
Jane folded her hands loosely in her lap. “I feel guilty.”
He looked toward her. “For what?”
“You are a duke.”
“So I have been informed.”
“And yet you are sleeping on the floor because of me.”
“I am sleeping on the floor because there is only one bed, and just one couch,” Hector said.
She smiled. “I believe you enjoy pretending nothing inconveniences you.”
“I prefer solving problems, rather than dwelling on them,” Hector replied.
She tilted her head. “You admit that rather easily.”
“I have learned that arguing with you is rarely productive.”
Her smile widened. “I shall consider that a victory.”
“I suspected you might.”
She watched the flames for another long moment. “When I was little...My father used to build forts.”
He blinked. “Forts?”
“Blankets over chairs.”
A quiet chuckle escaped him before he could stop it.
She looked delighted. “I knew that would surprise you.”
“It has.”
“Whenever Colin and I quarreled, Father would declare that the Kingdom of Wynten had fallen into civil war.”
Hector listened without interrupting.
“He would drag every blanket from the nursery, recruit the footmen, and build an enormous fortress in the drawing room.”
She laughed softly at the memory. “We thought it magnificent.”
“I imagine it was.”
“Then he would announce that peace negotiations could only occur over hot chocolate. Colin always insisted on giving me the larger cup.” She stared into the fire. “He has always believed everyone else’s happiness mattered more than his own.”