Page 142 of Stolen By the Heartless Duke

Jane laughed. “That sounds familiar.”

“But I have never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you.” Ambrose continued quietly. “You’ve given my friend something I wasn’t certain he’d ever find.”

Jane lowered her eyes. “I believe he’s given me rather more.”

He offered his arm. “Ready?”

She inhaled deeply. “As I’ll ever be.”

The church was modest compared with London’s grand cathedrals. Sunlight streamed through tall stained-glass windows, painting patches of blue and crimson across the stone floor. White flowers decorated the front pews.

Guests rose as Jane entered. She scarcely noticed them. Her gaze found her mother first. Lady Wynten sat near the front wearing soft lavender silk. She was already crying. Jane smiled reassuringly.

Then her eyes found Zachary. He occupied a pew farther back. His face was rigid. His bruised pride had not healed nearly asquickly as the marks Hector had left upon him. Their eyes met only briefly.

Jane looked away without hesitation. He no longer frightened her. They had only invited him because they knew what society would say if he were absent. Presumably, that was the reason he had come as well.

Ambrose leaned closer. “Ignore him.”

“I intend to.”

“Excellent.”

The organ began to play. Together they started down the aisle. Jane felt every heartbeat. Then she saw Hector, waiting.

He stood perfectly still before the altar. Black formal coat. Immaculate white cravat. Shoulders squared. Hands clasped behind his back. His expression remained composed. Only his eyes betrayed him. They never left her. Not once.

She reached the altar. Ambrose gave her hand a brief squeeze before placing it into Hector’s.

“For the record,” Ambrose murmured quietly enough that only they heard, “if either of you changes your mind, I’m leaving.”

Jane laughed softly. Even Hector’s mouth twitched.

“Thank you,” Hector said.

Ambrose grinned. “I expect repayment in excellent brandy.”

Then he stepped away. Jane finally looked fully at Hector.

“You look beautiful,” he said, quietly but entirely sincerely.

Warmth spread through her chest. “So do you.”

One dark eyebrow lifted. “I hope not.”

She smiled. “I meant handsome.”

The rector cleared his throat politely. “If we might proceed?”

Both of them looked appropriately chastened. The ceremony began. Jane barely heard the opening prayers. She found herself studying Hector instead. He stood perfectly still.

When the rector spoke of duty, Hector did not flinch. When he spoke of fidelity, Hector’s fingers tightened ever so slightly around hers. Then came the vows.

Hector spoke first. “I, Hector Lockwood, take thee, Jane Deverell, to be my lawful wedded wife...”

Jane swallowed. When her turn came, her voice trembled only slightly. “I, Jane Deverell, take thee, Hector Lockwood...”She looked directly into his eyes. “...to be my lawful wedded husband...”

She meant every word. The rings were exchanged. Hector slid hers gently onto her finger. His thumb brushed her knuckles for the briefest instant. A tiny, private gesture.