Page 20 of The Big Bad Duke (The Shadows #9)

L eila strained her wrists against the restraints, the silk ties cutting into her skin with each futile pull.

In a way, he had given her the perfect opportunity to complete her mission.

She was in his room, in his bed, with no one but his servants aware of her presence.

If she could free her wrists before he returned, she could hide behind the door and attack him the moment he entered.

He would likely overpower her, but she was willing to take that chance. He had taken both her daggers, but thanks to his earlier urging, she had a hairpin holding her coiffure together that she could use. Physically, she was capable of killing him. Emotionally? She wasn’t sure she was ready.

There was another part of the issue. Even if she managed to kill him, would she be free? Or was she being tricked? Deceived? Would the men holding her captive keep their promise and let her go?

She knew too much. The fact that she hadn’t heard from Emir in days had already worried her. Perhaps she could strike a bargain with the wolf instead? It wouldn’t be the first time she had made a deal with the devil to save herself, and it wouldn’t be the last.

The question was whether he would honor their agreement or just use her like all the other men had. As long as she saved Emir, did it matter? But who was to say he would agree to help her? And if he did, who could guarantee that he would be able to assist her?

The door handle rattled, and she froze in place. Damn, she was too late. She hadn’t managed to free herself; she wouldn’t be able to attack or defend herself. Yet, she was still ready to fight.

The door opened, and Mrs. Hill—the housekeeper—entered the room, a tea tray in her hands and a bundle of cloth tucked under her arm. The woman’s weathered face bore a concerned expression that spoke of decades spent caring for others.

“I brought you some tea and some clothes,” Mrs. Hill said gently, setting the tray on the bedside table. “The duke said to keep you comfortable, so that’s what I’m here for.”

“Comfortable?” Leila tugged violently at her tied-up wrists, the bedframe creaking under the strain. “I’m tied to a bed with my hands over my head!”

Mrs. Hill’s expression softened with sympathy. “Yes, but do not worry; I will feed you tea. And I can free you from those clothes if you wish—they look terribly uncomfortable.”

“So that I can be completely naked? No, thank you.” Leila’s voice dripped with bitterness. “Though I suppose that would make your master’s intentions even clearer.”

The housekeeper’s face flushed slightly as she poured tea into a delicate porcelain cup. “My lady, I know you might not think so right now, but His Grace is a decent gentleman. He would never—”

“Tie anyone up to his bed with the curtains?” She wiggled her fingers for emphasis.

Mrs. Hill moved closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “It’s not his bed.” She paused, as if the words themselves carried weight. “It’s his late wife’s. And you’re the only woman to ever lie on it aside from her.”

Leila stared at her, momentarily speechless. Was that supposed to make it better? She shook her head in disbelief. “What an honor.”

“You don’t understand,” Mrs. Hill continued, settling into the chair beside the bed and lifting the teacup to Leila’s lips.

Leila turned her head, refusing the refreshing drink.

It could have been poisoned for all she knew, and she wasn’t falling for that trap.

The housekeeper let out a sigh and set the teacup back on the tray.

“His Grace’s wife died over fifteen years ago.

He hasn’t remarried nor brought a single mistress or dalliance into his home.

He inherited a dukedom, yet he still resides in his old townhouse, unable to move on from her memory.

You are the only woman he has allowed inside this room.

It means he thinks a great deal of you.”

“That is ridiculous,” Leila said. “He regards me so much that he deemed me suitable to be tied up on her bed?”

“I can’t know all his motivations,” Mrs. Hill admitted, smoothing her apron, “but I know his heart, and there’s a lot of honor there. More than you might believe.”

“Mrs. Hill,” Leila said suddenly, her voice taking on a desperate edge, “please. You seem like a kind woman. Surely you can see that this is wrong? I’m begging you—untie me. Let me go. I swear I will cause no trouble. I’ll disappear, and you’ll never see me again.”

Mrs. Hill didn’t meet her eyes. “I… I cannot do that, my lady. His grace gave me strict instructions—”

“Damn his instructions!” Leila’s voice cracked with desperation. “I have someone who depends on me—someone who might be in terrible danger while I’m trapped here. Please, I’m begging you as one woman to another—help me.”

The housekeeper seemed to contemplate that for a moment. “It is not my place to go against the duke’s direct orders, however… Does the duke know about this danger you’re talking about? Have you spoken to him about it?”

“Speak to him? Do you not see that I am his prisoner?”

“I am certain he thinks it necessary to keep you here. But if you tell him the truth, and if there truly is a person in danger right now, he will help you save them.”

“And who will save me from him ?” Leila asked, though the housekeeper’s words echoed some of her own thoughts from earlier. Was there logic behind Mrs. Hill’s blind trust in her employer? Or was she too loyal to see the truth?

The housekeeper paused, her spine lengthening. “I promise you, you’re in no danger. He would never hurt an innocent woman.”

Except Leila was not so innocent. And that was the crux of the issue.

“Besides,” Mrs. Hill continued, a variety of expressions playing across her weathered face, “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I have never seen him look at anyone like this.”

“How is that?” Leila couldn’t help her curiosity. She’d thought he was transfixed by her at one point… she wasn’t certain he remained thus.

“As if the entire world revolves around you, including him. As if he is in awe of his own feelings for you.”

Leila wanted to believe those words, but she wasn’t a naive maiden.

She had feelings for him, too. There was an extraordinary, inexplicable pull between them—something she’d never experienced in her twenty-six years of life.

It made it impossible for her to think clearly around him and execute her mission, which she had accomplished dozens of times before.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t push those feelings aside to save himself.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.

The only reason I am here is that I witnessed him kill a man in cold blood! ”

Mrs. Hill seemed momentarily taken aback by that statement, but she quickly schooled her features. “I’m sure he had his reasons for that.”

“And you are fine with this? You have no qualms about me being held here against my will, as long as you believe your master has some feelings for me?”

“I’m fine with you being here because I know he will never hurt you.

I know that he will protect you. I also see that you feel something toward him as well, I can see it in your eyes.

I’ve spent a long life watching people from the shadows, and I’ve learned to read expressions well.

And yes, perhaps I wish for His Grace to find happiness after long years of misery; I don’t see anything wrong with that. ”

“You don’t see anything wrong with pushing romantic notions onto his captive?”

“You’re not a captive here. You’re a guest.”

“A guest who is kept here against her will is a captive.”

“I’m certain he will set you free quite soon.”

It was clear that arguing with this woman was fruitless. Leila tried a different tactic. “Mrs. Hill,” she said quietly, “how long have you worked here?”

“My entire life, madam. I was born in the servants’ quarters. My mother was the housekeeper before me. I witnessed His Grace being born.”

Leila almost smiled at the warmth in the woman’s face as she spoke. It was obvious she had motherly feelings toward the duke, and those feelings clouded her judgment. “And in all this time, has His Grace ever brought any woman to this room other than his wife?”

“That’s correct.” Mrs. Hill’s voice carried a note of something that might have been hope.

“And has he ever brought other prisoners into this home?”

“No. Never.”

“So this is the first time in his entire life that he is acting thusly.”

“Yes.”

Leila studied the older woman’s face. “And instead of thinking that he’s lost his entire mind, you’re sitting here telling me how wonderful he is?”

Mrs. Hill faltered, her hands wringing together. “He is wonderful. Whatever misunderstanding happened between you two can easily be straightened out with a conversation, I’m certain. You have nothing to fear. He will not hurt you.”

Leila wished that were true. She was still wrestling with the idea of forming an alliance with the duke as a means of surviving this ordeal. But she had doubts. Heavy, huge, looming doubts. “How can you be so sure?” she asked.

“Because I’ve seen him grow up. I know how he is with servants. I know how he treats his tenants. He is a gentle soul and never hurts anyone who doesn’t deserve it. He is a protector by nature, not a tormentor.”

He used to be a soldier—by his own admission, not the noble kind. He led a deadly secret society and was a murderer. It was clear this woman didn’t know him at all. Leila closed her eyes. “You seem to have unwavering faith in the duke, Mrs. Hill.”

“I do,” the housekeeper admitted with a small smile. “But I don’t just say this because I know him to be kind. I’ve seen enough of life to understand that love—real love—is very rare. I recognize it when I see it. And I believe what you two have… it is a real thing.”