Page 28 of Stolen By the Heartless Duke

Jane felt a chill settle in her chest.

The duke’s gaze remained fixed on the ledger. “And then?”

“He left at dawn.” The madam closed the ledger slightly, as if she were done with it emotionally even though she still held it physically.

“He had the air of someone expecting a meeting that never occurred,” she said quietly.

Jane’s hands curled at her sides.

“Has he been here before?” the duke asked.

The madam shook her head immediately. “No,” she said. “Never.”

The duke closed the ledger slowly. For a moment, neither he nor Jane moved. Then Jane turned to the madam.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

It felt strange to say it here, in this room, but she meant it all the same.

The madam inclined her head slightly. “You are welcome,” she said.

The duke placed additional coins on the desk. “This is for your discretion,” he said simply.

The madam did not count them. She did not even look surprised anymore. She only nodded once.

“I am always discreet,” she said.

Then she closed the ledger and returned it to its place as though the conversation had never occurred. Jane felt the weight of what they had learned settling between her ribs.

Foxglove. A waiting man. A meeting that never happened. And Colin, wherever he is.

The duke turned slightly toward the door. Jane followed him without speaking. But as they stepped back into the corridor, she could not shake the feeling that something had just shifted. Somewhere ahead of them, whatever was waiting next no longer felt like an investigation.

It felt like a trap they had already stepped into without realizing.

They left the office without speaking.

The corridor outside felt colder than it had before, as if the warmth of the room had been shut away behind them. Jane followed the duke through the narrow passage, her cloak still drawn tightly around her shoulders, her thoughts no longer anchored to the physical space around her.

The brothel, the lamps, the faint perfume in the air—it all blurred together as something distant and secondary. Whatremained was the ledger. More specifically, the word written inside it: Foxglove.

It did not leave her mind. It clung there stubbornly, like something half-remembered from a dream she could not quite wake from.

They stepped back into the alley.

The night air hit her immediately—cooler, sharper, and real in a way the interior had not been. Jane paused just long enough to steady herself, her gaze instinctively lifting toward the building.

The brothel’s windows glowed faintly. Life continued inside as if nothing had changed. As if no answers had just been pulled from its records. As if Colin had not been reduced to a name in ink and speculation.

Jane’s fingers tightened slightly in her cloak. The duke stood beside her but did not interrupt her silence. For a moment, she simply looked at the building. Then she exhaled.

“Colin washere,” she said quietly.

The words felt strange in her mouth, as if speaking them made them more real than she was ready to accept.

The duke glanced at her. “Yes.”

Jane frowned slightly, still thinking. “He came to meet someone.”