Page 10 of Stolen By the Heartless Duke

She had spent the last hour forcing herself not to imagine Colin alone somewhere, bound and injured. The worst images suddenly flooded her mind, and she couldn’t drive them away. Instead, she slipped her arm around her mother’s shoulders.

“We will find him,” she said again.

Lady Wynten nodded weakly, though neither of them sounded convinced.

A maid appeared at the foot of the staircase. “My lady?”

Lady Wynten sighed. “I think I should retire.”

Jane squeezed her hand. “That’s probably best.”

Her mother hesitated. “I don’t wish to sleep.”

“I know, but you need rest,” Jane said as gently as she could.

“What if news arrives?” Lady Wynten fretted.

“I’ll wake you immediately,” Jane promised.

Lady Wynten searched her face, then finally nodded. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

Her mother kissed her forehead—a gesture that suddenly made Jane feel twelve years old again. Then Lady Wynten allowed the maid to escort her upstairs.

Jane remained in the hall until she’d disappeared. The moment her mother was gone, the carefully maintained composure she’d been holding together all evening began to crack. Her shoulders sagged, and she leaned back against the wall.

There was no way that she would sleep tonight. Slowly, she made her way toward the parlor. The house seemed almost deserted now. Most of the servants had retired after cleaning theaftermath of the engagement party. Only a few lamps remained lit. Their warm glow did little to chase away the darkness.

Once inside the parlor, Jane crossed to the bell pull and rang.

A maid appeared moments later. “My lady?”

“Tea, please.”

“Of course.”

The maid disappeared.

Jane sank onto the sofa. The room smelled faintly of roses and beeswax polish. Usually, she found it comforting. Tonight, it only reminded her of how swiftly the evening had changed from ordinary to chaotic. Hours ago she had been engaged. Now she was not.

Oddly, she still felt almost nothing about Lord Maltby. Perhaps she should, but every time she tried to think about the broken engagement, her thoughts returned to Colin.

Colin mattered.

Maltby did not.

The tea arrived shortly thereafter. Jane wrapped both hands around the warm cup. The heat seeped into her cold fingers.

Outside, summer rain had begun tapping softly against the windows. Her father always used to say that June storms arrived when least expected. The memory made her heart ache. She missed him terribly. Especially now.

Her father would know what to do about this situation. He had always known what to do. Without him, Colin had taken over that role. Now…who would?

Jane had lost track of time. Her tea had gone lukewarm when a knock sounded at the door.

She looked up.

“Come in,” Jane called, her voice hoarse with emotion.