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“Because he’s being watched,” Ian explained, sitting on the edge of the bed to remove his remaining clothes. “His movements are being monitored, but mine are not. So it was actually quite safe—nothing more dangerous than an evening’s entertainment.”
Helen studied his face in the candlelight, searching for any sign that he was minimizing the risk to spare her feelings. But his expression was open and honest, his posture relaxed in a way that suggested genuine confidence in his assessment.
“Are you absolutely certain it wasn’t dangerous?” she pressed.
“I’m certain,” he said firmly, reaching over to cup her face in his hands. His thumbs traced gentle circles on her cheekbones as he leaned down to brush his lips against hers. “It was nothing more than helping a friend retrieve some documents that belonged to him in the first place. No violence, no chases, no dramatic escapes through windows.”
The kiss was soft and reassuring, tasting of night air. Helen felt the last of her tension begin to melt away, replaced by a different kind of awareness as Ian’s weight settled beside her on the mattress.
“But since we’re both awake now,” he murmured against her lips, his voice dropping to that particular tone that never failed to send heat coursing through her veins. His hand traced a lazy path from her ankle to her knee, then higher, slipping beneath the hem of her nightshift to caress the sensitive skin of her thigh.
Helen’s laugh was breathless and joyful as relief transformed into desire. She pulled him down for a kiss that was anything but gentle.
“Welcome home,” she whispered against his mouth, feeling him smile in return.
“It’s good to be back,” he replied, and then there was no more need for words at all.
Chapter 24
The carriage wheels clattered against the cobblestones as they navigated the winding streets toward Payne’s townhouse. Inside, the atmosphere was thick with tension.
St. John gazed silently out the window, the calmest among them, though his brow was furrowed with thought or worry.
Payne sat rigidly in the leather seat, his jaw clenched so tightly that Gideon worried he might crack a tooth. The revelations about Townsend had shaken him to his core, and the full extent of the betrayal was just beginning to unfold.
Leila leaned against Gideon’s side, her hand in his.
He drew soothing circles on the inside of her palm, trying to calm her racing heartbeat, but her pulse still hammered wildly in her wrist.
Though Leila appeared calm on the outside, Gideon sensed that her body was poised for flight. She was so close to getting her brother back, and he understood her impatience.
She didn’t want to wait another minute, much less another night.
However, they couldn’t just confront Townsend in the middle of the night and accuse him of being the Cardinal, the ruthless leader of an unscrupulous secret society.
They needed more evidence than a lovely portrait and Leila’s word. Right now, they were headed to obtain that proof.
They reached Payne’s townhouse quickly; it wasn’t far from Roth’s place. Payne jumped from the carriage before the footman even had time to pull up the step and rushed inside unceremoniously.
Gideon helped Leila onto the pavement, her fingers trembling in his.
She met his gaze as he took her elbow to lead her inside, uncertainty and worry mingling with hope in her expression.
He couldn’t imagine what she was truly feeling at that moment.
“The study,” Payne yelled tersely as he entered the foyer, rushing toward his office. “I have all of Townsend’s documents in there.”
Gideon and Leila followed while St. John went to see his wife in another room.
The moment they entered the study, Payne began rummaging through his papers, pulling out every document Townsend had ever touched. He mumbled something under his breath as Leila’s expression gradually shifted from hopeful to overwhelmed with each document he produced.
It would take more than one night to go through them all.
Gideon focused on the files Townsend had drafted while Payne was abducted, during the time he held the title of Earl of Payne.
“To think I suspected that bastard and ruled him out,” Payne muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he paced the floor.
Leila sat on the floor, the harlot’s dress pooling around her hips, its open cut exposing her thigh, and she didn’t seem to care. Gideon picked up the cloak she had discarded in her haste and draped it over her bare skin.
