Page 67 of Stolen By the Heartless Duke

Hale ignored him. “If Strachan is involved,” he continued, “and if we can trace any part of this to him in a way that satisfies the right people, then yes, there is a path to making this… permanent.”

Hector’s gaze lifted slightly. “Permanent?”

“Prison,” Hale clarified. “Removal from influence. Possibly worse, depending on what is uncovered.”

Ambrose let out a soft laugh. “Worse than prison. How charmingly optimistic.”

Hale’s mouth tightened. Hector, however, heard only one thing.

Possibility. A line. A direction. Something that could be followed.

“I want proof,” Hector said.

Hale nodded immediately. “And you will have it, if it exists.”

Hector held his gaze for a moment longer than necessary. Then he inclined his head once. “Thank you.”

Hale stood as well, the conversation clearly reaching its end. “I will send word,” he said. “Discreetly. Do not move loudly on this, Your Grace. Strachan is not a man you corner without consequence.”

A faint edge entered Hector’s voice. “I am aware.”

Ambrose stood, stretching lazily. “We’re always aware. It is the acting on it that causes the trouble.”

Hale gave him a look that suggested he was not entirely wrong. Then he stepped back. “I will be in contact.”

And with that, he left. The door shut softly behind him.

“Well,” Ambrose said, swirling the last of his drink. “That was delightfully grim. I feel as though I’ve aged a year.”

Hector did not respond immediately. His mind was already elsewhere. Strachan’s name. Evan’s paranoia. Wynten. The pattern that Hale had described.

Ambrose stepped closer, watching him now with less humor than before. “Hector. Stop doing that,” he said.

Hector glanced at him. “Doing what?”

“Retreating so far into your head that I begin to suspect you’ve left your body entirely.”

Hector exhaled once, sharply. “I am thinking.”

“I gathered.” Ambrose’s tone softened slightly. “Tell me about what you’re thinking.”

“I think Strachan knows where he is,” Hector said finally.

Ambrose nodded slowly. “That’s worse.”

“Yes.”

Then Ambrose tilted his head. “And the Earl of Wynten?”

Hector’s gaze tightened. “I think Wynten is the reason we are all still circling this instead of ending it.”

Ambrose studied him for a long moment. “How so?”

Hector ran a hand over his face. “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but my brother and the earl have to be connected in some way.”

“How would they have known one another?” Ambrose mused.

“I do not know, and neither does Lady Jane, but I feel that the two are connected,” Hector said. “I have been reluctant to press the lady on this. It’s a delicate topic.”