Page 54 of The Big Bad Duke (The Shadows #9)

D awn was creeping through the heavy curtains when Gideon stirred.

His late-night conversation with Leila had been a balm to his soul, allowing him to sleep deeply and dreamlessly for the second time in years.

He reached out to touch Leila’s warm, sleeping form, only to find the cold, empty pillow beside him.

He jolted into a seated position.

“Leila?” he called, his voice rough with sleep.

The rustle of papers drew his attention to the floor near the window before Leila answered him with a distracted, “Hm?”

She sat cross-legged on the Persian rug, surrounded by what appeared to be every piece of paper they had gathered from Blake’s study. She was wearing his shirt, and her dark hair was collected in her favorite braid as her finger traced the lines of text before her.

“What are you doing?” Gideon asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and padding barefoot across the cold floor to join her.

She looked up at him, her eyes bright with excitement. “I think I found him,” she said.

“Have you slept at all?” he asked as he reached her side.

“No. A little. But Gideon, listen, I know the Cardinal better than anyone—his habits, his preferences, the way his mind works. I thought I might find something others have missed. And I found this.” She raised a piece of paper, holding it above her head.

“What is it?” Gideon knelt beside her, taking the document from her fingers and studying it carefully. It appeared to be a rental agreement for a manor house a couple of hours away from London.

“I think they are there. It is remote enough, luxurious enough, and compared to all the other properties he leases in or around London, this one seems the most like the apartments he rented on the Continent. Besides, if you look closely at the layout and design, you can see how advantageous this place is for strategic purposes. The land before the mansion is vast. Anyone who approaches will be discovered long before they can reach the gates. And look here, there are some oddities within the walls. They seem a bit too thick in a few places. I think there might be hidden passages there, like inside Grace’s brothel. ”

Gideon studied the document and saw exactly what Leila was saying. In addition to the points she had mentioned, there was a cellar similar to the one where they’d been held hostage. The Cardinal could be keeping Emir there.

However, he owned numerous properties, some of which they didn’t even know about, so singling out this one might be premature. Still, it was worth checking out, and he trusted Leila’s judgment. If she saw something in this place, there was probably something there.

“Do you want to go there and check?” he asked.

She glanced up at him, and for a moment, surprise flickered in her eyes. Did she think he would oppose her? But she immediately perked up, jumping to her feet. “Yes, I do.”

He rose to his feet but hesitated. “I don’t know if it’s wise for us to go there on our own for reconnaissance. Perhaps we should ask someone else to do it. And if Townsend is there, then we can—”

“No.” Leila reached for his hand, and he took it. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing. My blood is boiling, and my feet are restless.”

“What if he’s not there? While we are out, we might receive a note with his real location. You don’t want to miss that, do you?”

She seemed to deflate at his words. He stepped closer and gently grasped her arms, lightly massaging them. “We’ll find Emir, I promise.”

“I promised to keep him safe,” Leila whispered.

She leaned into his chest, and Gideon wrapped his arms around her. “And you will keep your promise.”

* * *

Within an hour of Leila’s conversation with Gideon, a note arrived indicating that Townsend would be attending a function later that night—a demimonde ball hosted by one Nicolette Burke.

Gideon sent one of his spies to watch the mansion Leila had singled out and see if that was where Townsend would be leaving from. In the meantime, Leila prepared to confront the man who had thoroughly ruined her life.

She needed a change of clothes for that, and Lady Payne generously offered to create something more comfortable for Leila from her own wardrobe.

Leila took advantage of the situation, transforming one of Lady Payne’s old mourning daydresses into salvar. She paired it with a chemise and a frock worn as a kaftan.

After gathering her hair into a braid and sliding in a hairpin, she glanced in the mirror, and for the first time in years, she reminded herself of… herself. She stared into her own reflection and saw the person she was meant to be.

“Thank you,” she said, her eyes welling with unexpected emotion.

“No need to thank me; it’s the least I could do.”

“You’ve been incredibly generous, allowing us to stay the night, sharing your clothes, and letting me alter them.”

“They look better this way,” Lady Payne replied with a smile. “And those trousers seem very comfortable. Besides, we should be thanking you for revealing Blake’s cousin’s true nature.” She paused. “You must be very excited about the prospect of finding your brother.”

“I am, very much.”

“How long have you been separated?”

“Almost two months. We’ve been apart before, but the Cardinal allowed us to exchange notes. This time, I haven’t heard anything from him, and it worries me immensely.”

“I understand. I can’t imagine someone keeping me from my son and remaining sane,” Lady Payne said fiercely. “But I believe your brother is still alive and well. Townsend probably planned to use him as a bargaining chip if he failed to capture you.”

Leila swallowed. “I hope so.”

“What do you plan to do after you reunite?”

Leila stifled a grimace. That was the question she dreaded. What would they do? “Perhaps we shall go back home to Smyrna. That’s what we always dreamed of in the quiet hours,” she said hesitantly. “If we can afford the fare.”

Lady Payne’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’m quite certain the fare won’t be an issue for a duke. Wolverstone is quite wealthy.”

Leila blinked, momentarily confused about Gideon’s involvement, before realizing that Lady Payne had discerned the depth of their relationship.

She wasn’t a fool; she had seen how close they were, despite offering them separate chambers.

Perhaps she had noticed that only one of the rooms had been used.

Or maybe offering two chambers was just a polite courtesy.

“Gideon—Wolverstone is not going to come with us,” Leila said.

“Oh!” Lady Payne’s face flushed a startling shade of red. “My apologies. I just assumed—you seemed—I shouldn’t have—”

“Please, don’t worry,” Leila quickly reassured her. “You deduced correctly; we… are quite close. But it is temporary.”

Lady Payne’s expression turned skeptical.

She pursed her lips, as if debating whether to speak her mind.

Ultimately, she decided to proceed. “I apologize for speaking out of turn, but I’m quite certain you’re mistaken.

A man doesn’t look at a woman the way Wolverstone looks at you if his interest is merely temporary.

He doesn’t risk his life to save her or turn the entire city upside down to find her brother. ”

“He has his own reasons for finding Townsend,” Leila protested.

“That may be true,” Lady Payne replied thoughtfully, “and granted, I’ve only seen you two interact a couple of times, but from what I’ve observed, he is very attuned to your feelings. I think it goes beyond a temporary liaison.”

Gideon entered at that moment, and Leila’s face lit up.

She stepped forward, her feet carrying her to him, and as if tethered by an invisible thread, he moved toward her too, his own eyes shining.

Leila realized that perhaps Lady Payne’s words held a kernel of truth.

They were connected in ways that transcended a mere temporary affair.

But reality was more complicated than that.

“Townsend has left the premises,” he said, taking her hands in his. “And you were right; he left that same mansion you singled out. I sent out notes to all the Shadows to converge at that place in five hours.”

“I can’t wait that long.” Leila shook her head frantically. “It takes two hours to get there, and who knows how long or how short the Cardinal will be at the ball? He might come back before we find anything of value, before we find Emir.”

“In that case, we’ll have a couple of questions for him,” Gideon assured her.

“No,” Leila insisted. “Please. I want to have enough time to search the place from top to bottom before his return. I want to find Emir. Let’s go before everyone else.”

“It’s dangerous, Leila,” Gideon pleaded.

“We’ll come with you,” Payne said from the threshold, St. John on his heels.

“We’ll watch for any sign of trouble, and we’ll wait and direct the Shadows should they arrive.”

“Very well then,” Gideon said. “Let’s go.”

“Thank you,” Leila echoed.

* * *

They galloped to the manor house, stopping a distance away to leave the horses behind and avoid alerting anyone to their arrival. St. John and Payne stayed back to watch for Townsend or the Shadows, while Gideon and Leila proceeded further.

The tall, spiky fence surrounding the manor kept people out, and inside, numerous guards patrolled the grounds, crossing paths every five minutes.

Leila climbed the fence, landing gracefully on her feet, while Gideon ascended with a few rough grunts, ultimately falling rather than landing in the dirt.

Leila stifled a laugh.

“Oi, when I was your age, I could scale it just as easily,” Gideon said in a mock chiding tone. “With age comes wisdom and aching joints.”

Leila covered her mouth to suppress her laughter. “There, there, ihtiyar ,” she said, patting him on the shoulder.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“Old man,” she explained with a grin. “A wise and respected one, if it makes you feel any better.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I can live with that.”

With the mood lightened, her nerves settled as they hid in the shadows of the gate, waiting for their opportunity.

They had studied the layout of the house and knew every possible entry point.

But due to the guards, they had only about four minutes to approach the building and make their entry—nine minutes if they managed to silently dispatch a guard.

They dashed to the building as soon as the guard vanished from sight. They managed to pry open a window just in time, with Leila rolling into the building first. Gideon’s feet cleared the window just as another guard turned the corner.

Silently, they made their way inside, avoiding every guard, though the place was crawling with them.

They headed toward the servants’ stairs and ducked on the first floor, narrowly evading the guards.

Fortunately, the first floor was less crowded, with only one guard patrolling. Gideon quickly subdued him and stuffed him into an empty closet.

They checked every room for prisoners, but each was empty. What purpose did the guard serve then?

“He likes to keep his prisoners underground,” Gideon whispered.

“Yes, but Emir was never kept as a prisoner. More like a guest who wasn’t allowed to leave,” Leila pointed out.

“So were you. Until recently.”

Gideon was right, and the thought of her brother being held in a cold, damp chamber underground for two months chilled her to the bone. She jolted, eager to get downstairs, but too many guards occupied the ground floor. They wouldn’t be able to get past them all.

Heavy footsteps echoed on the stairs, growing closer. Someone was approaching the first floor. Another guard.

Gideon tugged her toward another stairwell, and they ascended to the second floor.

This floor was completely empty, though the guard’s calls could be heard from there. He was making his way toward their stairwell, likely to ascend as he looked for his friend—the guard they had disposed of.

Before she realized it, Gideon pulled the hairpin from Leila’s braid, rushed to the side, and opened the nearest door, tugging her into the chamber.

He locked the door behind them, and they pressed their ears against it, listening to the guard’s approach.

He walked past but paused nearby, still calling out the other guard’s name.

After a moment, he grumbled something under his breath and walked away.

“We should go now,” Leila whispered impatiently, but instead of leaving, Gideon ventured further into the room. He lit a candle boldly and approached the desk.

“Look around,” he said. “It seems we are in Townsend’s study.”

Leila glanced at the mahogany shelves lined with leather-bound volumes and the massive desk that dominated the center. They were indeed in a study.

“Perhaps we can find more information than we hoped for.”

What Leila hoped for was to find her brother. But that mission seemed daunting at the moment, so she decided to look for something else of value.

Gideon rifled through the papers on the desk.

“Nothing,” he whispered. “Just standard business correspondence and property documents—all clean.”

The few books Leila examined were ordinary, with nothing out of place.

However, her experience as an assassin had sharpened her ability to detect patterns.

Right now, she sensed something was off about the arrangement of the shelf in front of her.

Running her fingers along the spines, she noticed a gap between two volumes.

When she pressed against it, the wood gave slightly.

“Gideon,” she whispered urgently.

He moved to her side as she discovered the hidden mechanism. With a soft click, a section of the bookshelf swung inward, revealing a narrow staircase that led down just a few steps—a hidden room between the floors.

They carefully descended into the cramped space.

It was different from the neat study above: messy, dark, and smelling of spirits. Documents were scattered across a small table—maps marked with shipping routes, correspondence bearing the Brotherhood’s seal, and ledgers detailing transactions that could only be described as criminal.

“This is it,” Leila breathed, gathering papers that detailed abductions, forgeries, and worse. “This proves everything.”

Gideon studied a map marked with locations across London. “Nothing directly names Townsend, but having all this under his roof definitely implicates…”

The sound of the study door opening above froze them both. They had failed to close the secret door, and whoever entered the study was bound to notice it.

And they did.

Light flooded their hiding place as a guard appeared at the top of the stairs, pistol drawn and a candle in the other hand. His eyes widened upon seeing them, his finger moving to the trigger.