Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
The next day, Jane entered the dining room a few minutes before the appointed hour.
Candles glowed in polished silver sconces, their light reflecting warmly across the mahogany table. It had been set for only two. Crystal glasses sparkled beside fine china, and fresh white roses filled a low arrangement in the center.
It felt far different from Wynten House. She had barely settled into her chair when Hector appeared.
He had changed into a dark evening coat, though he had forgone the stiffness he’d worn at public functions. Without a room full of strangers to impress, he looked almost relaxed.
He smiled when he saw her. “You’ve beaten me.”
“Only just,” she said, feeling suddenly shy.
“I shall endeavor not to make a habit of keeping my wife waiting.”
Jane laughed softly. “You were scarcely thirty seconds behind me.”
“Still.”
A servant quietly poured wine before disappearing as another brought the first course. Once they were alone again, Jane looked around the room.
“Your staff is remarkably discreet.”
“They know better than to linger.”
“They also seem to adore you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I should hope they don’t adore me.”
“They respect you, then.”
“I try to be fair.” He reached for his wine. “I suspect Mrs. Pemmons has already interrogated you.”
Jane smiled into her glass. “She merely wished to know whether I preferred tea or coffee in the mornings.”
“And?”
“I told her tea.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Then tea it shall be.”
She blinked. “You’ve already instructed them?”
“I did.”
“When?”
“This afternoon.”
Jane shook her head with amused disbelief. “So you’ve been planning my breakfasts.”
“I considered it an important duty.”
She laughed again. “I definitely married a duke.”
“You did.”
“I did not expect him to concern himself with tea.”
“I concern myself with many things.”
“I shall have to make a list.”
His mouth curved. “I’m not certain that’s wise.”
“Oh?”
“You may discover I have far too many opinions.”
“I already know you do.”
He gave her an exaggerated look of offense. “I am wounded.”
“I somehow doubt that.”
The servants exchanged plates with practiced silence before withdrawing once more. Jane found herself smiling without effort. Only weeks ago every conversation between them had felt like crossing swords. Now there was warmth beneath their words.
She looked across the table. “This is... nice.”
Hector’s expression softened. “It is.”
“I wasn’t certain what to expect.”
“Nor was I.”
She hesitated. “Are you disappointed?”
His answer came without hesitation. “No.”
The certainty in his voice settled something inside her. He studied her for a moment before speaking again. “May I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“When was the last time you enjoyed dinner?”
She thought about it. “I don’t remember.”
Not since Colin disappeared. Not since Zachary had marched into Wynten House and stolen every feeling of safety she’d possessed. Not since fear had become her constant companion.
Hector seemed to understand without needing further explanation. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “You’ve no reason to apologize.”
“Perhaps not.” He reached across the table. “I would like to change that.”
She looked down at their joined hands before meeting his eyes again. “I think you already have.”
A comfortable silence settled between them. Outside, dusk deepened beyond the windows while candles flickered softly between them. For the first time in weeks, Jane realized she was not rushing through a meal.
She was simply sharing it. And somehow, with Hector across the table smiling at her over a glass of wine, that ordinary moment felt extraordinary.
After dinner, Hector took her by the hand and led her upstairs to her room.
Jane’s knees shook as she followed him, counting each tread on the stairs, a ridiculous stalling, but it kept her feet moving.
She had the feeling that something more extraordinary than she had experienced earlier was coming.
Upstairs, her room was smaller and colder than she’d left it, the window cracked to bleed the heat.
All Jane felt, though, was the flush of desire.
He went straight to the bed, pulling her down to sit with him on the luxurious mattress.
His hand found her knee beneath her dress.
His thumb traced her leg up to the apex of her thighs.
She shivered, unsure if it was the chill or him.
“Jane.”
He said her name in a way no one else managed, like he’d invented it, like it was a secret. His lips grazed her ear, then moved down, slow and deliberate. The room shrank around them, her chest ballooning with desire so pure it almost felt good.
He cupped her jaw and guided her mouth to his. His lips were dry, his breath sweet with the wine from dinner. Her mind went blank except for the pressure of his hand on her most private area as he stroked her wetness, kissing her deeply at the same time.
He undressed her slowly. Once she was naked before him, he pressed her gently back onto the bed, his mouth suddenly everywhere, or so it felt.
His tongue circled her nipple, flicking it gently before moving on to her belly.
Then ever lower. When his mouth reached her pussy again, her breath caught in anticipation.
“Hector,” she whispered.
He looked up at her with a wicked grin before lowering his mouth, making her gasp. She brushed his collarbone with her thumb, then tried to memorize the shape of him, the heat of his skin, anything that would make this a memory worth keeping.
She gripped the edge of the bed, knuckles gasping white, and rode out the waves of whatever this was, this new and private humiliation.
It lasted longer than she expected, or maybe time did tricks in the close air of her room, stretching and snapping back, the way her own body did under his hands.
She was nearly at the peak again when he pulled away.
He kissed the hollow at her hip, the soft flesh above her knee, everywhere but the places she expected. She whimpered in protest, but then he undressed quickly. She admired his lean, muscled body as he positioned himself between her thighs.
When he slid into her, there was a moment of discomfort, but her body seemed to expand to accept him. At first he moved slowly, but once he seemed assured that he wasn’t hurting her, he began to move faster.
The friction built so fast, Jane almost couldn’t accept that it was happening. She wrapped her legs around him, urging him further inside. Her climax came suddenly, causing her to cry out.
Hector slid out of her and came onto the spread beside her. Jane noticed, but did not think anything of it. Her body thrummed from the release. Hector drew her into his arms, and held her until she fell asleep.
On the third morning of their marriage, Jane found Hector exactly where she expected him to be. In the library.
Sunlight poured through the tall windows, casting long golden beams across shelves lined with leather-bound books.
Hector stood beside his desk, reading a stack of correspondence with a cup of coffee that had long since gone cold.
His brow was furrowed in concentration, one hand resting against the polished wood as he read another letter.
Jane paused in the doorway. Marriage suited him.
Or perhaps it was simply that she was seeing more of the man beneath the title now. Away from crowded ballrooms and dangerous alleys, he seemed more at ease. Not carefree—never that—but quieter somehow.
She leaned lightly against the doorframe, content to watch him for another moment.
Without lifting his eyes from the page, he spoke. “If you continue staring at me, I shall begin charging admission.”
A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. “I thought you hadn’t noticed.”
“I noticed the moment you entered.”
She crossed the room slowly. “You never looked up.”
“I don’t need to.” Only then did he fold the letter and meet her gaze. “I know the sound of your footsteps.”
Her smile softened. “Already?”
“They’re lighter than everyone else’s.”
Warmth spread through her chest. “Good morning.”
He rounded the desk and stopped before her. “Good morning, my wife.”
The words still sent an unfamiliar flutter through her. She suspected they would for quite some time.
He bent to kiss her forehead before offering her the folded letter. “Would you care to read Ambrose’s latest report?”
She accepted it. “So it isn’t business from parliament?”
“No.”
She unfolded the page and skimmed the contents. Ambrose’s handwriting remained just as untidy as ever, though the news within immediately caught her attention.
“They’ve arrested two more of Strachan’s associates.”
Hector nodded. “The authorities continue tightening the net.”
She looked up. “Then they’re making progress.”
“They are.”
Relief eased some of the lingering tension she had carried ever since leaving the countryside. She folded the letter again.
“What of Zachary?”
Hector’s expression cooled immediately. “He remains steward.”
Jane sighed. “I had hoped...”
“So had I.”
He rested one hand against the edge of the desk. “Until Colin is officially declared missing under the law, the earldom cannot pass. Zachary is only administering the estate until then.”
“Only.” She hated the word. “He enjoys every moment of it.”
“I know.”
She lowered her eyes. “I still dislike thinking of him as any part of my father and Colin’s legacy.”
“So do I.”
His voice softened. “But he cannot threaten you anymore. Nor your mother.”
His fingers closed gently around hers. “There is something else.”
“What is it?”
“I’ve continued spreading the story about Evan.”
“The one about Europe?”
He nodded. “Society believes he has gone abroad to care for an elderly relative.”
She smiled faintly. “And they believe it?”
“They do.”
She laughed quietly. “I suppose people rarely question something so terribly ordinary.”
“They much prefer scandal.”
“They certainly do.” She shook her head. “You’ve thought of everything.”
“I’ve tried.”
She squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”
“It is my privilege.”
That afternoon, Hector led her toward one of the outbuildings behind the house. Jane glanced around curiously.
“I’ve been wondering what this building was.”
“You’ve been investigating my estate?”
“I’ve been exploring.”
“There is a difference?”
“A very important one.”
He chuckled as he opened the door. Inside was a spacious practice room with padded flooring, wooden staffs, blunted practice swords, and enough open space for movement.
Jane looked around with interest. “So this is where you learned to throw enormous men across the room.” She smiled. “I should like another lesson.”
He removed his coat and placed it neatly over a nearby bench. “I thought you might.”
Jane stepped onto the padded floor. “What am I learning today?”
“Balance.”
She frowned. “I thought we already practiced balance.”
“We practiced survival.” He motioned for her to stand opposite him. “Today we refine it.”
She obeyed.
“Wider stance,” he instructed. She shifted her feet. “A little farther.”
She adjusted again. He walked behind her. His hands settled lightly against her waist as he corrected her position.
“There.”
The warmth of his touch seeped through the fabric of her dress. She hoped he could not feel how suddenly her pulse had quickened.
“You seem remarkably certain.”
“I know exactly where your center of balance should be.”
She swallowed. His lips curved ever so slightly.
“I’m speaking of your footing.”
“Naturally.”
He stepped beside her again. “When someone seizes your wrist...” “...don’t oppose strength with strength.”
He demonstrated the movement once. Then released her. “Now you.”
Jane repeated it.
He shook his head. “Again.”
“I did exactly as you instructed.”
“You anticipated.”
He took her wrist again. “This time, let your body move before your arm.”
She concentrated. Slipped neatly free.
His brows lifted. “Very good.”
A grin spread across her face. “I escaped.”
Pleased with herself, she attempted the movement once more. Only this time her foot caught awkwardly beneath her skirt. The room tilted. Before she reached the floor, strong arms caught her effortlessly.
One settled around her waist. The other steadied her shoulder. Jane looked up. Hector’s face hovered only inches from hers.
“I believe,” he said quietly, “that was not part of today’s lesson.”
“No.”
She made no effort to step away. Neither did he.
“You’ve improved greatly.”
“I’ve had an excellent instructor.”
His eyes drifted briefly toward her lips before returning to meet hers. “I should probably let you go.”
“You probably should.”
Still neither of them moved. The silence between them felt different now. She reached up and smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from the front of his shirt.
“I believe you’ve forgotten the lesson entirely.”
“I believe you’re correct.”
“What are you thinking about instead?”
He smiled. “I’m trying to remember every reason I ought to behave like a proper gentleman.”
“Do you need to be a perfect gentleman with your wife?”
His hand tightened ever so slightly at her waist. “I’m failing rather spectacularly.”
He leaned down and kissed her. The kiss began slowly, then it deepened as she rose onto her toes and rested her hands against his shoulders.
His arms held her securely, close enough that she could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. When they finally drew apart, they were both smiling.
“I believe,” Hector murmured, “our lesson has concluded.”
Jane laughed. “I learned quite a bit.”
“So did I.”
Still smiling, they left the practice room together, their hands naturally finding each other before they had taken three steps.