Page 37 of Bound to the Heartless Duke (Regency Beasts #4)

T he night air welcomed them as they stepped out of the den. The moonlight traced Magnus’s face, and Lily could sense that he had calmed considerably even though his shoulders were rife with tension.

“Magnus…” Her voice was soft. “I am well.”

Magnus drew to a halt before turning to face her. His gaze swept her face, lingering on the curve of her cheek, the swell of her lower lip, the paleness of her throat. All the while, the storm kept raging in his eyes.

“Do not lie to me,” he said, his voice low and rough with fury.

A breath escaped her lips when his gloved hand came up and cupped her jaw.

“If they hurt you?—”

“They did not,” she interrupted quickly, though the firmness of his grip proved he wasn’t convinced. “Magnus, I promise…”

He dropped his hand suddenly, and the rest of her words died on her lips. He cupped her chin again, gently turning her face left and right, like a man who had forgotten himself.

Like a man who had forgotten the rules he had set.

“No bruises,” he murmured, more to himself than to her. His fingers trailed down the delicate line of her throat, lingering where her pulse fluttered madly. “And here?”

She swallowed. “No… though I should say, my pride has been bruised a little.”

A flicker of pained amusement touched his mouth. But it was gone before she could fully apprehend it.

“How did you find me?” she asked, her voice light and steady. “It felt… impossible.”

His hand dropped to his side, curling into a fist.

“I have spent the better part of this day with men who owe me far too many favors,” he explained.

The edge to his voice told her that those favors had been collected without much grace.

“One of them heard whispers of a woman fitting your description.” He looked at her. “The rest you saw for yourself.”

“And you simply walked in?”

His gaze sharpened. “I did not walk in . I would have torn down the building if it meant getting to you.”

Her breath caught again, but before she could answer, booted steps skidded across the cobblestone.

“Blackmore!”

Three shadows emerged from the alley. Edwin appeared first, his gait confident despite the slight tear in the side of his coat. Theo followed behind him, wiping a spot of blood from the corner of his mouth, and lastly, William, whose hair was sticking in several directions, a wild mess.

She didn’t need them to explain to know they had been part of the attempts to rescue her.

Lily was surprised to see that Magnus had brought them along.

“Devil take you, man. You couldn’t have left us a few more to handle?” Theo drawled, his tone lighter than the storm in his eyes.

Magnus did not smile. “If you wanted a share, you should have reached her first.”

Lily could not help huffing a breath, half exasperation, half gratitude.

Edwin’s gaze swept the alley behind them. “We need to move before London’s underground decides to retaliate.”

“They already have,” William said grimly, his voice deep. “I saw movement two streets over. Could be nothing, could be everything.”

Magnus nodded once, already stepping toward the darker end of the lane. “The carriage?”

“Three blocks east.”

They fell into a brisk walk, the four Dukes shadowing Lily with urgency. They were almost to the mouth of the lane when a dark figure emerged from the shadows, having apparently followed them out of the den.

He caught sight of Lily, and his eyes lit up with ugly recognition. He was the man who had held her captive, now bent on vengeance and apparently foolish enough to attempt to. He wielded a knife that glinted dangerously in the glow of moonlight.

But Magnus didn’t hesitate. He might as well finish what he started.

He moved before the man could attack and delivered a blow so brutal that the man crumpled to the ground without a sound.

“Good Lord,” William whispered with a shake of his head.

Within moments, they continued down the lane and reached the carriage. The driver who had been waiting for them quickly gave a curt nod before they climbed in. The wheels lurched forward the moment the door shut behind them.

They settled in the carriage, falling silent. No one spoke for several moments.

Lily rested her hands in her lap, still trembling slightly from what had just happened.

But she kept her head high and her eyes fixed on the window beside her, trying to ignore the heat of Magnus’s sharp gaze on her.

she felt tired to her bone but couldn’t sleep.

The sight of Magnus in such a violent light haunted her thoughts.

The carriage slowed as they reached a quieter part of the city. Edwin knocked twice on the roof, and the driver pulled to a halt before a dimly lit townhouse.

“We part ways here,” Edwin said, stepping out of the carriage.

Theo followed, giving Lily a warm smile before vanishing into the night.

William was last, his deep voice rumbling, “Get her home safe, Blackmore.”

Magnus only inclined his head.

The door slammed shut, and the carriage lurched forward once more. The air shifted at the absence of the other men, becoming thicker and quieter, heavier in a way that made Lily acutely aware of every breath she drew.

She stole a glance at her husband. The faint lamplight illuminated his profile, accentuated the slant of his nose. His jaw was clenched in restraint.

“What happened?” she asked at last, her voice low.

For a moment, she thought he would ignore the question entirely. Like he had ignored her in the morning. But, to her surprise, he let out a long sigh before responding.

“The people Nathan owed apart from me are the dangerous sort and when they’re owed for too long, they have no consideration for innocents.

All this happened because of Nathan?

“But… the money from Mr. Bailey?—”

“Gone,” he said flatly. “Lost to debts, drink, and greed. Likely, the moment your brother realized I would not be dissuaded from marrying you, he saw no reason to linger.”

Her hands clenched in her lap. “So they took me, thinking…”

“That you were his most valuable asset,” Magnus finished.

The words were soft, but the look in his eyes was a promise of revenge that made her shiver.

“I am sorry,” she whispered. “If I had not?—”

“Don’t.” The word came out sharp.

Magnus turned to her fully, his gaze locking onto hers.

“You will not take blame for the acts of men who should have protected you.”

Her throat closed up. “But you?—”

“I would do it again,” he said.

There was no hesitation, no softening of the truth. Just raw emotion that tugged at her heart.

The rest of the journey passed in silence. This time, the silence was not uncomfortable, but companionable.

When the carriage finally stopped before Blackmore Manor, Magnus climbed out first. Then, he turned to offer his hand, which she took. He helped her down, and the effortless strength with which he held her made her pulse quicken.

He led her inside and straight into her chambers, where a low fire was crackling in the grate. Lily thought he was going to leave immediately, but he lingered for a few moments.

“Allow me to check you properly.” His voice was so deep, so low, that her lashes fluttered. “To see for myself that you are not hurt in other places.”

“Ch-Check me?” She blinked. “Other… places?”

“Have no fear. I won’t overstep my boundaries,” he assured her.

Well, Lily was interested in the opposite of that. But she nodded nonetheless, wishing to see what exactly he meant by ‘checking.’

His fingers slowly tugged at the knot of her cloak before pulling the garment down her shoulders with an almost reverent slowness.

Every movement, every touch, made her throat go dry.

“Magnus.” Her skin tingled from the heat of his fingers. She caught his wrist, halting him. “Only if I can do the same for you. You are the one who fought half of London tonight.”

His mouth curved, just barely, but the look in his eyes was heated enough to make her heart skip a beat.

“Then check,” he murmured.

His approval was swift, and she had to clear her throat before proceeding.

It began as an inspection, her fingertips ghosting over the breadth of his shoulders, the firmness of his arms, and the faint stubble on his jaw. But with every brush of her hand against his skin, the air around them warmed.

When she cupped his face to better see the shadow near his temple, his hand came up to cradle hers instinctively, before his thumb stroked the inside of her wrist.

“You are trembling,” he noted in a hushed tone.

“I am not,” she lied, but the flush in her cheeks betrayed her.

His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth, then rose again. “Perhaps I am, then.”

She gave a small, breathless laugh, and then it was his turn to inspect her. His hands were slow, just like before, sliding over her shoulders, down her arms, and then pausing at her waist. When he found the faintest mark near her collarbone, his thumb traced it, his jaw tightening.

“It is nothing,” she murmured, trying to comfort him through her words.

“I will decide what is nothing.”

Her breath caught when his hand lingered there, his touch warm and firm on her skin.

She could not look away from him, could not think beyond the fact that the gap between them was almost invisible.

When his gaze dropped to her lips again, he didn’t look away.

The last thing she heard before the world narrowed to him was his voice, low and deep.

“Lily…”

And then he leaned in, closing the space between them with a heat that promised the night was not nearly over.