Page 142

Gideon’s rage was replaced with warmth in his chest. He had Leila now, and Townsend had nothing.

“Hm.” Gideon pursed his lips thoughtfully, as if he were considering some interesting philosophical point. “Interesting perspective. Well, I am giving you a choice now.”

He leisurely walked to the wall, pulled a lit candle from the sconce, and, slowly and casually, tossed it onto the Persian carpet that covered much of the office floor. The flame caught immediately, fed by the natural oils in the expensive fabric.

“You can either burn to death,” Gideon said lazily, watching as the flames began to spread with hungry eagerness, “or jump from that second-story window.” He gestured toward the window behind Townsend’s chair. “Of course, the window is locked, and you’re tied to a chair, but…” He shrugged with mocking indifference. “Nobody is forcing you to remain in this room.”

The fire spread quickly, racing across the carpet toward stacks of remaining papers and the wooden furniture. The smell of smoke began to fill the room, and the temperature rose noticeably as the flames gained strength and height.

Townsend’s eyes took on a resigned look, but he didn’t make a peep.

Gideon took Leila by the arm, nudging her toward the door. They walked past Payne, who lingered a moment longer before following them out.

Fire cracked loudly, consuming everything in its path and starting to travel farther than just the study.

Soon it would take the entire house.

But they wouldn’t see it burn.

They walked out the door, boarded their carriages, and drove away without looking back.

Chapter 29

When they returned to the Paynes’ townhouse, dawn was already breaking. However, both physically and emotionally drained, they needed rest.

Lady Payne kindly prepared a separate chamber for Emir, allowing him to rest in his filthy state. She ordered a bath and food to be ready for him when he woke up.

Leila was reluctant to let him out of her sight, even for a moment, but she needed to speak with Gideon before exhaustion overtook her. Emir needed his rest in privacy, anyway.

“The Emerald Room is still yours,” Lady Payne called over her shoulder as they reached the stairs. “Take all the time you need.”

Gideon was already waiting in the corridor outside her assigned chamber. Leila took his hand and led him inside.

“You can stay in my house,” Gideon said without preamble, turning to face her once the door was closed behind them. “Now that the threat from the Cardinal is over, I assume it’s safe to return there.”

“I can’t,” Leila replied immediately, not trusting herself to consider the offer for even a moment.

“Why not?” His face was carefully guarded, and his tone was neutral.

Leila moved to the window, needing physical distance to maintain her resolve. “I can’t openly spend nights with you while my brother shares the same roof,” she said. “I don’t want—I want to be a good example for him from now on.”

Gideon was quiet for a long moment, processing her words, then nodded. “What are you going to do now?”

The question she had been dreading forced her to articulate the decision that was tearing her apart. “I think…” she began, then stopped, took a breath, and started again with more conviction. “I think it’s best for us to go home. Back to Smyrna.”

He swallowed hard, the sound audible in the quiet room. “I have means,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I can buy you a house here—something respectable, with proper staff. You can settle here with Emir and establish yourselves in society. With the right introductions and connections—”

“And do what?” Leila interrupted, turning from the window to face him directly. “Be your mistress? Support him with your money while everyone whispers about the foreign woman who shares the duke’s bed?” She shook her head firmly. “I can’t do that. I can’t accept it, Gideon. I want my life to be different. I don’t want to support myself by selling my favors, no matter how tempting the cage. It’s still a cage.”

“That’s not what it would be,” he protested.

“What then?” she challenged, crossing her arms over her chest. “What would you call a woman who lives in a house you provide, wears clothes you buy, eats food you pay for, all in exchange for warming your bed whenever you choose to visit?”

Gideon fell silent, as they both knew that was exactly what the arrangement would entail, regardless of the affection between them.

Leila pressed on, needing him to understand the impossibility of their situation. “I was a revered member of society here when everyone thought I was a diplomat’s wife, when they believed I had a role, a purpose, a place in the world. But now…” She gestured helplessly. “A foreigner, a Muslim, a woman with no work or mission. I will be a nobody.”

“Not to me,” he said quietly.