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Evening? It’s past dawn. His tone seemed rehearsed as well. But Gideon filed the oddities away.

“I wish to speak with the…” The words died in his throat as realization struck. In all his conversations with Leila, in all his careful questions about her life and circumstances, he had never learned her husband’s actual name. How had he missed something so basic?

Because you were thinking with your cock instead of your head, you fool.

“Sir?” the butler prompted, his neutral expression never wavering. But Gideon caught something in the man’s eyes—amusement? Suspicion? It vanished too quickly to be sure.

“The Pasha,” Gideon finished lamely, hating how uncertain he sounded.

“I’m afraid his lordship is resting in his bedchamber. He has been quite ill. Perhaps I could deliver a message?” His lordship? Not ‘the Pasha’ or ‘His Excellency.’ Interesting.

“It is rather urgent, which should be obvious given the hour of my visit. Can he make an exception?”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, sir. The physician has given strict orders that he not be disturbed.”

Gideon reached into his waistcoat and withdrew his calling card, watching the butler’s face carefully for any flicker of recognition. There—a slight tightening around the eyes. This man knew who he was.

“Please give him my regards and tell him I called to inquire about his wife’s welfare.”

“Of course, sir. I shall ensure he receives this immediately.”

Instead of mounting his horse and leaving as expected, Gideon strolled casually around the corner of the house, then doubled back to peer through one of the front windows. His suspicions were confirmed—the butler was speaking animatedly to a liveried footman, gesturing with what Gideon assumed was his calling card. The footman took it and hurried deeper into the house, moving with an urgency that belied the butler’s calm dismissal.

They’re reporting to someone. But whom?

Gideon walked the perimeter of the house, searching for a way in.

Near the back, he found his opportunity—a sturdy trellis covered in climbing roses that led to a first-floor window. The thorns snagging at his clothes were the only obstacles. He quickly reached the window to find it closed.

But he easily opened it with his dagger.

Gideon slipped through the window into what appeared to be a small sitting room—furnished but somehow lifeless. Downstairs, he could hear voices—servants, he assumed—but their behavior was all wrong. They chatted and laughed with appalling informality, showing none of the decorum expected in a household of this caliber, especially not with a butler as stuffy as the man he’d spoken to just minutes ago.

He moved carefully down the hallway, testing door handles as he went. Locked. Every single one was locked from the outside. What kind of household locks its rooms like prison cells?

One door stood open—a bedroom at the end of the corridor. Gideon slipped inside and immediately knew he was in Leila’s space. The room was lavishly appointed with silks and elegant furniture, clearly designed for a woman of refinement. But something felt wrong, hollowed out.

He approached the wardrobe and opened it carefully. There, hanging among a sparse collection of gowns, was the dress Leila had worn to the Kensington ball.

But the wardrobe was nearly empty.

Of course, her visit was temporary, but still…

Footsteps in the corridor made him freeze. Heavy boots, deliberate pace. Not a servant.

A guard?

Ironic that both houses he’d broken into in one night had guards patrolling inside and out. Gideon moved toward the window, intending to slip out in the similar way to how he’d entered—but his heart sank as he tested the sash.

Nailed shut.

He tiptoed to the door and pressed his ear to it, listening as the footsteps passed by and continued down the corridor. When the sounds faded, he slipped out and moved to the next room—surely her husband’s chamber. But the door was locked, as were all the others he tested.

Every room locked except hers. Why leave only her room accessible?

He easily picked the lock and entered the adjoining chamber to hers. But it was completely empty.

No furniture, no carpet, not even dust.