Page 73 of Stolen By the Heartless Duke

“It is,” Redforth replied easily. “Most would have retreated to the country by now and taken up embroidery with a vengeance.”

That, unexpectedly, made Jane smile. “Vengeance embroidery sounds quite appealing,” she said.

“Doesn’t it?” Redforth agreed. “Tell me,” he said casually, “are you enjoying the musicale?”

Jane hesitated. “I am… managing it.”

“That is honest,” he said approvingly. “A rare trait in this room.”

Jane felt rather than saw Hector shift. He had not approached. But he had not left either. He was simply…there. Watching nothing in particular, or perhaps watching everything.

From the corner of her eye, she admired the way his evening coat fit him supremely well, outlining his broad shoulders, and giving just a hint of the tapered waist that she knew hid beneath.

She couldn’t help but relish the shiver of pleasure that washed over her. How could she ever thank him for intervening earlier? She felt a flutter in her chest of something that she couldn’t quite name…gratitude? Something deeper?

“Lady Lavinia, would you allow me to steal Lady Jane for a brief moment of conversation that does not involve tragedy or attempted scandal?” Redforth asked with a pleasant smile.

Lavinia glanced over at Jane, her eyes full of concern. Jane only nodded back, after which Lavinia turned to the marquess, smiling. “Gladly, my lord.”

Jane noticed the glare that the duke sent towards his friend, and his fists clenching.

Surely, he’s not jealous? We agreed that our kiss was a mistake.

Although the logical part of her mind was convinced it was nothing, another, more secret part wondered if she had indeed noticed signs of jealousy.

With that, Lord Redforth offered his arm to Jane. After a brief hesitation, she took it.

As they moved away, Redforth lowered his voice slightly. “You are aware,” he said, “that you have become something of a topic of interest.”

Jane’s mouth tightened. “I had noticed.”

“Yes,” Redforth said lightly. “Hector tends to accelerate that effect without meaning to.”

Jane glanced up at him. “Does he?”

“Oh, yes. Though he is trying very hard not to.”

That made Jane falter slightly in her step. “Pardon my directness, my lord, but I do not understand him,” she admitted before she could stop herself.

Redforth’s smile turned faintly knowing. “That,” he said, “is because he does not understand himself either.”

Jane frowned. “That seems unlikely for a duke.”

“It is a consistent trait of most dukes,” Redforth replied.

They paused near the refreshments table. Jane could still feel Hector’s presence somewhere behind her, like a gravity she could not quite pinpoint.

Lord Redforth leaned slightly closer. “If I may offer advice,” he said quietly.

Jane hesitated. “You may try.”

Redforth smiled. “Do not assume his silence is indifference.”

Jane did not respond immediately. Across the hall, she saw Hector again.

Still distant. Still controlled. Still watching.

Jane wondered if the marquess might be trying to say something she was not ready to understand.