Page 42 of The Big Bad Duke (The Shadows #9)

T hey spent a few days in the tower, with Gideon recuperating from his wounds while Leila tried to remember anything about the Brotherhood that might help them.

She wasn’t very successful, while Gideon seemed to grow stronger each day. His bruises were fading, the swelling in his face had diminished, and his movements became more assured and confident.

More importantly, his mood had shifted from that of the hunted to that of the hunter. He was thoughtful and quiet during this time, as if deep in contemplation.

“Tell me,” he asked Leila each morning, “everything you know about the Brotherhood.”

And Leila repeated the same thing each time.

This time, she took a sip of her tea, contemplating her answer. “I haven’t remembered anything new. As I told you, I didn’t even know that’s what they were called until you told me.”

“How about the men you met through the Cardinal?”

Leila flinched; her encounters with those men had not been pleasant. “I don’t know which ones were part of the Brotherhood and which weren’t.”

“You never noticed a mark of the crimson fist on their bodies?”

She shook her head. “Most of the time, I dealt with him alone. I called him The Cardinal.” That was all she knew.

Gideon leaned forward, resting his elbows on the small wooden table. “What does he look like?”

Leila closed her eyes briefly, summoning the haunting image. “Taller than average, but shorter than you. Dark hair, dark eyes…” She opened her eyes to find Gideon’s jaw clenched in frustration.

“Well, that’s helpful,” he said, laced with sarcasm.

Heat surged in her chest. “You don’t believe me?”

“You’re not giving me anything useful to believe or disbelieve.” His tone was flat and measured, yet she sensed the underlying doubt.

Leila set down her cup. “Your tone suggests you don’t believe me when I say I don’t know anything.”

“Well, you’re not being particularly helpful, are you?” Gideon pushed back from the table and stood, the chair scraping against the floor. “After years—over a decade spent under their thumb—you should remember more.”

Leila rose as well, her hands clenched at her sides. Why the sudden hostility and mistrust? “They were very careful. I know little.” She forced herself to meet his accusing gaze. “I know the Cardinal spent years in Europe and only recently arrived in London.”

Gideon let out a harsh laugh. “Well, that includes a few dozen lords—and more if we count untitled men.”

“If you give me a list and describe them, perhaps I can eliminate a few,” she offered, desperation creeping into her voice.

He began pacing the floor, the borrowed breeches clinging a little too tightly to his form, his shirt open at the collar and tightening around his shoulders.

“Most prominently, one particular lord was absent for over a year recently,” Gideon said, his steps never faltering.

“Reportedly abducted, but his escape story was a bit far-fetched. His name was associated with several businesses linked to the Brotherhood, but I had no definitive proof he was one of them.” He paused mid-stride and turned to her, tilting his head toward the spot where her own mark of the black fist lay hidden. “He has no mark on his body either.”

“Perhaps they only mark their subordinates, and you have been eliminating the wrong people all this time,” she suggested.

“No. I do my due diligence.”

“Like you did with me?” she challenged.

“I made quite a few mistakes regarding you, obviously,” he said through gritted teeth.

Leila wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold despite the warmth from the hearth. He was extremely irritable today. It seemed to her that with him, she took one step forward in their trust, only to take three steps back the next day.

“Who is this man?” she asked, trying to regain her composure.

“Lord Payne. You were at his musicale when you saw me kill Norfolk,” he said casually.

Recognition dawned, and Leila shook her head. “Oh, that Lord Payne. No, he is not the Cardinal. He doesn’t seem like someone who would be associated with the Cardinal either.”

Gideon’s eyes narrowed, studying her face as if he could divine the truth from her expression alone.

Leila shook her head. “You’re doubting me.”

He grimaced, and for a moment, she glimpsed what might have been regret in his features. “I don’t want to doubt you, Leila. But I have trusted you too easily in the past. I know I can’t trust myself with you. So I would rather distrust everything tenfold than fall into another one of your traps.”

“There were no traps!” Leila closed her eyes in exasperation, forcing herself to calm down.

Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper.

“I can’t keep arguing the same thing over and over again.

I was tasked with killing you, but I couldn’t.

I tried three times and failed—not because you were so good at evading me, but because of my feelings for you. ”

There, I’ve said it. Not that it needed to be said; she thought it was rather obvious.

Gideon stared at her, an internal struggle playing out in his expression. Finally, his cool, calm demeanor prevailed.

“You spent over a decade with the man. Perhaps you have misplaced loyalty to him?”

“Loyalty? The only reason I did his bidding was to survive. Yes, I chose to stay with him at times, but what other choice did I truly have?” Her voice trembled with emotion. “I am different now. Stronger. I can keep Emir safe. Even if you doubt every word I say, you can believe that.”

Gideon ran a hand through his silver hair and then scrubbed his face.

He winced as his fingers brushed against his bruise and let out a deep sigh.

It was evident he wanted this to be over, just as much as she did.

They were both on the same side. Finally, Gideon’s shoulders sagged slightly.

“Very well. If we can’t identify the Cardinal, perhaps we can find him in other ways.

” His tone softened, becoming more businesslike than accusatory.

“Where do you think he keeps your brother? Is there a particular place he would hold him?”

Leila struggled to recall every detail of her captivity.

“The apartments they rented—or I assume they rented, perhaps they belonged to the Cardinal—were lavish and well-guarded.” She paused, deep in thought, trying to remember any details that could be helpful but came up short.

“I’m sorry I can’t be more specific. I haven’t been to the place where they keep him in London.

We were separated upon arrival and taken to our respective locations in separate carriages.

I assume the place would be similar to where I was kept. ”

Gideon began pacing again, his movements more controlled now—thoughtful rather than agitated.

“The place where you were kept had no identifying marks. It was definitely a rented residence. I checked the ownership, and there were no names associated with it, just a shipping business—perhaps one of the Brotherhood’s. There were no portraits on the walls—”

“Portraits!” Leila exclaimed, her heart racing with sudden excitement.

Gideon spun around, eyebrows raised at her outburst. “Have you seen portraits in one of the other residences?”

“No, but perhaps you have some or know where to find them.”

Gideon’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“The Cardinal—his speech is very refined, he is wealthy, and he carries himself with poise and dignity. He must be a lord. Is there a gallery where I can see the portraits of all the lords? Perhaps there are miniatures?”

Gideon shook his head. “Not unless you want to break into every peer’s house and look through their personal galleries.”

Leila’s excitement dimmed, but then another thought struck her. “Oh! Elma!”

“What does that mean?” Gideon asked, clearly bewildered by her sudden animation.

“This woman at a ball said her husband was an artist. He created so many portraits that she wanted to auction them off; perhaps he has painted the Cardinal before.” The words tumbled out in a rush.

Gideon shook his head slowly. “I don’t know a woman by that name.”

Leila waved a dismissive hand. “No, I gave her that name because I have trouble remembering all the English names, and hers was particularly difficult to recall.” She gestured with her hands, trying to conjure the woman’s image.

“She is very beautiful, with dark hair, dark eyes, and a full-figured silhouette. She is a friend of Caroline’s. ”

Understanding dawned on Gideon’s face. “Lady Birch,” he exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “I mean, Lady Roth now, but she used to be Birch. At one point, I was about to marry her.”

Something cold and sharp twisted in Leila’s chest. “You were?” The sharpness in her voice surprised even her.

A slow smile spread across Gideon’s face—the first genuine smile she’d seen from him all morning. “Are you feeling jealous?”

Heat flooded Leila’s cheeks. “No, I am not jealous.” Liar.

The truth burned within her. Lady Birch—Roth—whatever her name was, was an incredibly beautiful woman, with the kind of full figure that Renaissance painters often depicted, unlike Leila, who was petite and had far fewer curves.

“But if you wanted to marry her, surely you desired her in some way.”

“In what way?” There was definite teasing in his voice now, and she caught the ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

In a physical way. The words stuck in her throat.

She couldn’t say them aloud, so she tried a roundabout approach.

“She has very delicate features.” Certainly not like my own.

“And full…” Breasts. She absolutely would not say that out loud, but she couldn’t help the stab of envy at the other woman’s curves.

Lady Roth was very—what was the word?—feminine.

Although Leila had tried many times to conceal her femininity to avoid unwanted attention from men, for this particular man, she wanted to be the most appealing. “Lips,” she finished lamely.

Gideon cocked his head curiously. “I wasn’t looking at her…

lips the same way you have, perhaps. I don’t remember their shape.

” He paused, and his voice grew more serious.

“To be completely fair, she did remind me a little of Sarah. But no, there was no desire involved. It was an arranged affair. Her guardian owed me a lot of money and was willing to sell her to me…”

Leila’s eyes widened at his last words. Then shame flooded her face. She had been irrationally jealous, yet it seemed that kind, beautiful woman faced a fate similar to her own.

“At the time, I still had some vague notions of my duty to the title, to beget heirs, and I was willing to take a wife who had a despicable guardian willing to sell her to the highest bidder,” Gideon continued.

“I thought she’d be safer with me. But that was before revenge consumed me whole.

” He shook his head. “Lucky for me, and especially for her, she fell in love with another man and married him.”

“ Oh .” Both jealousy and pity quickly vanished from Leila’s mind.

“I was never in love with her. And although her lips might have been full…” His eyes found hers and held them. “I’d like to believe that merely having appealing features is not enough to fall in love with someone. There needs to be more—much more.”

Leila looked away, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. Yes, there needs to be trust and respect. Neither of those did Gideon feel toward her. They were worlds away from love.

He cleared his throat, breaking the spell.

“But yes, I know Lord Roth; he is a painter. I looked into him when I suspected everyone of being part of the Brotherhood. He is not one of them, although he spent a lot of time in France, which meets one of the criteria for him being the Cardinal, as I know the Cardinal also spent considerable time on the Continent. And now you confirm that theory.” His voice grew eager.

“Perhaps we can see him, and you’ll tell me if I’m wrong.

If I am not, we can explore his gallery and see if you recognize anyone else. ”

The plan made sense, but anxiety crept up Leila’s spine. “How are we going to get into his house without being detected by the Brotherhood?”

Gideon tapped his chin with his finger, his eyes distant as he worked through the problem.

“I don’t know if we can go into London without being noticed.

Maybe we can get him to come out—” He shook his head.

“No, that wouldn’t be helpful. I can’t send anyone a note without the risk of being seen by unwanted figures.

I can’t go to Mayfair, or even close, without being detected, especially on horseback.

And I can’t get a carriage from here.” He paused and shook his head. “We need help.”

He began pacing again, more purposefully this time. “From someone who lives on the outskirts of town. Someone who is not a peer but has connections to them and a network of people willing to do their bidding. And someone incorruptible, who would not sell us out…”

He paused mid-stride, his face lighting up with sudden inspiration. A slow smile spread across his features—sharp and calculating. “I know exactly who we need.”