Page 35 of Bound to the Heartless Duke (Regency Beasts #4)

L ily found him in the back courtyard, where the soft morning light shone on his broad frame like a bright halo. His coat was already buttoned, his riding gloves fixed as he moved with that usual confidence that made it seem as if the air itself could not slow him down.

“You weren’t going to tell me you were leaving?” she asked from behind him, her voice sharper than she had intended.

Magnus froze mid-step before glancing over his shoulder at her. His dark gaze swept over her from head to toe, stirring heat in her belly. “Good morning to you, too, Duchess.”

The title landed like a cold rock between them, reminding her of their argument the previous night.

She followed him, despite the bite in his tone. “Looks like you wanted to slip away without being caught?”

“Accurate, then,” he said flatly, adjusting his cuffs without looking at her.

Her breath caught at his tone. “I am your wife.”

She wasn’t sure how long she could use that excuse, but she would. Because it seemed she needed to emphasize the fact more.

He turned to her, and she saw the faintest smirk curving his mouth as though she had said something funny. However, the look in his eyes was anything but amused.

“Are you? The wife who agreed to marry me only because every other option was worse?”

Her lashes fluttered. Where had those words come from?

Yet, she refused to flinch.

“And you? The man who set rules before our vows and now hides behind them like a coward? Those rules also forbid you from telling your wife the truth?!”

The muscle in his jaw ticked, and for a moment, she thought she had gone too far.

However, he stepped closer, so close that his coat and the heat of his body blocked the bitter wind.

“You want the truth?” he asked, his voice deep. “ Fine . Nathan’s debts are bigger than I imagined. The money Bailey gave him is only the tip of the iceberg. If your brother’s dealings aren’t stopped, it will not be him paying the cost.”

Her breath clouded between them. “What do you mean?”

Magnus leaned into her ear and lowered his voice so only she could hear. “I mean, Duchess, that the kind of men he owes money to do not collect cash alone.”

Her heart sank to her stomach, his words echoing in her mind. She swallowed noisily, her throat going dry.

“Then we need to find him,” she whispered shakily.

“ I will find him,” Magnus corrected, his tone firm. “You will stay here, where it’s safe.”

“And if I don’t want to be safe?”

The question slipped out before she could stop it.

Magnus’s eyes darkened at that before something dangerous flickered in them. But it disappeared when he said, “Then you are a greater fool than I thought.”

The words stung instantly. For one moment, Lily wanted to reach out to him, to shake him angrily and accuse him of being so frustrating. But she couldn’t even lift a finger.

Although the same couldn’t be said for him. He was already stepping back, pulling on his gloves with finality.

“We’re done here,” he declared, turning toward the stables.

As he walked away, she stood there, watching him mount his horse before riding out through the gates.

“I will find him.”

She remembered his tone; it made it seem as though she were incapable. As though she had no part in the danger they were both in.

Despite the weather outside, the club was warm, the murmur of conversation floating over the clinking of glasses and smoke floating in the air.

Ironically, Magnus always found the place peaceful, familiar, and predictable.

But nothing in his life felt predictable now.

He spotted Edwin at a corner table as the man dealt cards to himself in idle practice.

“You look like hell,” Edwin remarked as soon as he noticed Magnus approaching.

Magnus slid into the chair opposite before responding, “Good to see you, too.” He gestured to the waiter. “Whiskey. Leave the bottle.”

Edwin raised an eyebrow. “Married life is already driving you to drink before luncheon?”

Magnus’s lips twitched into a humorless half-smile.

“She is… spirited.” He took a deep breath.

“That is one word for it,” Edwin said, before dropping the cards and leaning back in his chair. “I heard that Ronald Bailey is back.”

Magnus fell silent for a moment. He didn’t want to explain anything because saying it would also require him to be honest about how he had been treating his wife.

“That’s not even the main issue.” He took another deep breath. “She wants to involve herself in matters that could put her in danger. She thinks her brother’s mess is hers to fix.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Of course not.” Magnus’s gaze sharpened. “It’s mine now. I ’ll fix it.”

Edwin paused, studying him for a long moment before picking up his cards.

“Funny you should say that.” He paused again, this time deliberately. “I saw Nathan last night.”

The name dropped between them like a stone into still water. His pulse quickened.

“Where?” He furrowed his brow.

“In a gambling hell off Fleet Street.” Edwin shrugged casually.

“He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week, and he wasn’t alone.

There were two men with him—the sort of men who don’t wait to be paid back in cash.

One had him by the arm, and the other… well, I’ve seen that look before. It ends in trouble.”

Magnus’s jaw tightened. “If they harm him…”

“Then you’ll have a problem to solve before your Duchess finds out,” Edwin finished for him, sipping his drink. “Unless you think she won’t notice.”

Magnus didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Because Lily would notice, just as she noticed every change in his mood, every shadow he tried to hide.

And damn him, he had come to expect it.

Back at Blackmore Manor, Lily sat in the small morning parlor. She stared at the embroidery frame on her lap without taking a single stitch.

Perhaps it was boredom, but the silence in the room was unbearable .

She had been restless since Magnus left, pacing from one room to another as though the right corridor might lead her to answers. But the truth was obvious—she had brought chaos into his life. She had brought him her brother’s debts, his mess, her stubborn temper.

Mrs. Gunther appeared in the doorway, interrupting her thoughts.

Lily looked up to see the folded paper in the woman’s hands.

“Your Grace, the draper sent over the latest swatches for the green drawing room.”

Lily tried a smile. “Thank you. I’ll check them later.”

The housekeeper nodded. She was about to turn and leave, but hesitated when she noticed something. “You’ve not touched your tea.”

“I’m not thirsty,” Lily simply replied, before returning her gaze to her embroidery.

Mrs. Gunther stepped back inside, her expression somewhat unreadable.

“You carry yourself as if the weight of the world sits on your shoulders, Your Grace. But you have strong hands. You can share the burden,” she told her gently.

The words got to Lily so much that her throat tightened.

“And if he doesn’t really want me?” she eventually asked.

“Then he’s a fool,” Mrs. Gunther said simply.

Lily’s eyebrows flew up in surprise.

Mrs. Gunther let out a chuckle before turning around and leaving her to her thoughts.

As the silence fell over the room, Lily rose abruptly. She was determined not to sit and rot in the quietness, choosing the garden as a great option for fresh air.

She stepped into the garden right as the morningsun disappeared behind the clouds. As she wandered along the path between the yew hedges, she watched the Flowers dance in the soft breeze.

Lovely .

Her smile dropped when she suddenly heard a rustle behind her. It sounded strange amidst the usual quiet of Blackmore Manor that had come to be her home since she had married. Even if there were many servants in the household, they moved quietly and avoided her as if afraid of offending her. .

She sniffed.

Where was that smell coming from? It was acrid, like tobacco.

Before she could even answer the question or solve the puzzle in her mind, a flicker of movement to her left made her spin.

Her heart pounded.

Alright, that is definitely something.

Was it one of the servants? But it would be out of the ordinary because servants hardly ventured to this part of the estate except when invited.

She turned back around, but there was no one in sight.

“Mrs Gunther?” she called, looking around.

As she fixed her gaze on the marble statue of Demeter, a step sounded beside her. This time, she moved fast, spinning into a low crouch, her fists clenched. But she still couldn’t see anyone.

At this point, she decided to turn back and run. She could sense danger already. But just then, she heard the sound of crunching gravel.

Whoever or whatever it was wasn’t hiding anymore.

“Who’s there?” she demanded, her voice firmer, more urgent.

Still, she was met with silence.

Alright, this is eerie.

Lily backed away, ready to bolt, but her heel caught on the edge of the stone path. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted something dark between two edges.

It was certainly the figure of a man.

She instinctively reached for a knitting needle she had casually stuck into the pocket of her coat. She raised it in front of her, as though it would turn into a dagger or something.

“I’m not afraid to use this,” she warned, though her voice cracked, betraying her fear.

The figure paused at that.

Lily continued backing away, slowly. When she turned to run away, a calloused hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her back.

She screamed, struggling hard as she jabbed her elbow at the figure blindly. But her attacks were only met with the air. She tried her best to break free, and for a moment, she almost did.

But when she turned around, it was too late.

Pain splintered across the back of her skull as something hard landed on her head, causing the world to spin.

She caught a glimpse of a dark coat, the smell of tobacco and damp wool, before everything went black.

When Magnus returned home that evening, the first thing he noticed was the quietness. Not the quiet of a well-run household, but the quiet that chafed at him when his wife was out of sight.

He found Mrs. Gunther in the hall, her face pale.

“Where is Her Grace? I can’t find her,” he questioned, his voice strained.

“She went for a walk in the garden not an hour ago,” the housekeeper breathed, wringing her hands. “No one has seen her since.”

That was enough for Magnus. He strode past her through the open doors, his boots clicking loudly on the path.

“Lily!” His voice echoed off the stone walls, but there was no answer.

He ventured deeper into the garden until he finally reached the fountain.

Something white caught his eye. It was a crumpled piece of paper.

Immediately, he snatched it up and skimmed his eyes over it. The note was short, the hand rough: We have what you value. Come alone, and bring what is owed.

Cold fury settled over him as he realized that indeed his wife had been kidnapped.

And heaven help the men who had taken his wife.