Page 1 of Stolen By the Heartless Duke

Chapter One

“You have not smiled once tonight.”

Lady Jane Deverell smiled sweetly as she accepted another glass of champagne from a passing servant. “I am smiling now. I also smiled when Lady Barrington compared Lord Maltby’s dancing to a wounded goose.”

Beside her, Lady Lavinia Pratt nearly choked on her own drink. “That doesn’t count. That was cruelty to all those watching.”

Jane smirked at her best friend. “She was accurate, at least.”

The music from the orchestra swelled at the far end of the ballroom, strings drifting beneath the glittering chandeliers of Wynten House. June heat pressed against the tall windows despite the late hour. The scent of roses drifted in from the gardens below. Inside, guests laughed, gowns shimmered, and jewels flashed beneath candlelight.

Everything was beautiful. Everything felt exhausting.

Lavinia eyed her carefully. “You truly mean to go through with this…this charade?”

Jane followed her gaze across the room to Lord Maltby, who stood beside a cluster of gentlemen looking immensely pleased with himself. He was certainly handsome, in the polished, forgettable way fashionable men often were. Blond hair. Fine tailoring. An agreeable title.

A practical match. Nothing more.

“He is respectable,” Jane replied. “My mother approves. Colin approves. The estate requires stability after my father’s passing. There are far worse fates.”

“That is not an answer,” Lavinia chided.

Jane took a sip of her champagne. “Love is a luxury, Lavinia.”

“And yet most women still hope for it,” her friend said.

Jane looked back toward Lord Maltby just as he laughed too loudly at something one of the other men had said.

Hope had very little to do with anything.

Before she could reply, movement near the ballroom doors caught her eye.

Her brother Colin stood there speaking to two older gentlemen. He was dark-haired and broad-shouldered, his expression animated in a way it rarely was during political discussions. Even from across the room, Colin carried an easy warmth that drew people toward him.

Relief loosened something tight in her chest. At least he looked happy tonight.

“Your future husband is staring,” Lavinia murmured.

Jane turned just in time to see Lord Maltby approaching. He bowed over her hand with practiced precision.

“Lady Jane,” he said smoothly. “You have abandoned me to the wolves.”

“You seem to be surviving admirably, my lord.” Jane contorted her features into a smile that she hoped did not look like the grimace she felt inside.

His mouth twitched, though she could tell he disliked the remark. Maltby preferred soft-spoken women who gazed at him adoringly. Jane had never pretended to be one.

“I was just telling Lord Harrington that we should depart for Brighton after the wedding,” he continued. “The sea air may improve your… erm, temperament.”

Lavinia’s eyes widened, her brows knitting at once.

Jane folded her fan and stepped forward, as though to shield Maltby from Lavinia’s oncoming wrath. She reminded herself that this whole marriage was one of duty, and she knew how to do her duty well.

“How fortunate for me,” she ended up saying, though she felt the buzz of Lavinia’s anger from behind her.

Maltby either missed the dryness entirely or chose to ignore it. “You will enjoy being away from London. Society becomes tedious at this time of year.”

“Hmm.” Jane made a noncommittal noise.