Page 20 of Stolen By the Heartless Duke
Jane hated the smile that followed. “On what?”
“On whether I decide to be generous.”
A stunned silence filled the room.
“You cannot mean that,” Lady Wynten said.
“Oh, but I do.” He adjusted his cuffs in a leisurely manner. “This house belongs to the earldom.”
Lady Wynten began crying again. The sight nearly broke Jane’s heart. “You would cast your own family aside?”
“If necessary.”
“You are monstrous.” Jane could not keep the words from escaping her mouth.
His eyes hardened instantly. Danger flashed there. “Careful.”
“Jane,” her mother whispered.
But Jane could not stop. Not now. Not while he stood there threatening them. “You are cruel.”
His expression became deadly calm. “And you would do well to remember something, niece.”
He stepped closer. Close enough to intimidate. Close enough that Lady Wynten visibly flinched. “I hold your future in my hands.”
Jane’s stomach twisted.
“I hold your mother’s future as well.” He let that settle. “Perhaps you should learn some respect.”
The room fell silent. No one spoke. Finally, Zachary straightened, apparently satisfied. “I shall await further news.”
With that, he turned and walked toward the door. Halfway there, he paused. Then he looked back. That same smug smile returned. “If any arrives.”
The door closed behind him. Silence descended. Lady Wynten broke first. A sob escaped her. Within seconds, she was openly weeping.
Jane crossed the room immediately. “Mother.”
Lady Wynten clutched her. “What if he’s right?” The question shattered something inside Jane. “What if Colin is gone?”
“No.” Jane wrapped both arms around her. “He isn’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.” Her voice came out stronger than she felt. “He is alive.”
“Jane—” Her mother’s voice was pleading.
“He is alive.” She repeated it because she needed to hear it herself.
She needed to believe it, needed something solid to cling to. Because if she allowed herself to imagine otherwise… if she imagined Colin dead or Zachary inheriting the estate… if she imagined losing everything, she might break apart entirely. So she held her mother tighter.
Then she made a silent promise.
She would find Colin. Before her uncle got exactly what he wanted. And, for the first time since the kidnapping, Jane felt something stronger than fear.
The streets of London were already waking. Carriages rattled past, vendors set up stalls, servants hurried along pavements with baskets and lists. No one looked at Jane twice. A young woman on horseback was not so unusual at this hour.
But Jane felt as though every movement she made was deliberate, exposed, irreversible.
