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Mr. Barry stood to one side, literally biting his nails as he watched her reaction.

“What is it?” Emir asked, stepping forward with concern. Without a word, she handed him the paper.

It was an account certificate from the International Bank of London. Gideon had opened an account in her name and deposited the substantial sum of ten thousand pounds, accessible through the attached letter of credit. The amount was so significant that Leila had to read it twice to be sure she hadn’t misunderstood.

And that was all. No letter, no explanation, no word of affection or farewell—just the cold, practical provision of financial security.

It wasn’t as if she could refuse it. The deed was done; the account was established whether she wanted it or not. Of course, she could ignore it, but then the money would simply sit there, unused and useless.

With ten thousand pounds, she and Emir could live like royalty. They could buy a beautiful house in Smyrna, establish themselves in business, and never want for anything again. It was more money than most people saw in a lifetime.

Gratitude and relief warred with frustration at his presumptuousness and anger that he had sent a solicitor instead of delivering the document himself. He hadn’t even left a note—no explanation, no goodbye—nothing personal at all.

No, Leila couldn’t leave it like this. Not with so much unsaid between them, not with this impersonal gesture standing as their final communication.

She was going to confront him.

“Mr. Barry,” she said, turning to the nervous solicitor who was still wringing his hands. “Where is His Grace now?”

“I—I’m not certain I should—”

“Please,” she interrupted. “This is very important.”

The man looked around nervously at the assembled group, clearly torn between his employer’s instructions and the determination radiating from the woman before him.

“He’s at his townhouse, my lady,” he said finally. “But he specifically instructed me that you were not to—”

“Thank you,” Leila cut him off, already climbing into the carriage. “Can you make a brief stop before our final destination?” she asked the driver, and he nodded.

“Of course.”

She said her final goodbyes to the Paynes, and once Emir joined her, they set off for Gideon’s townhouse.

Chapter 30

The carriage barreled down the cobblestone streets toward Gideon’s townhouse. Inside, Leila sat rigidly upright, her hands clenched in her lap as her mind raced with a thousand different scenarios of what she might say to him.

How dare you do exactly what I asked you not to and secure my and my brother’s future for the rest of our lives!

No, that didn’t sound right.

How dare you hide in your townhouse like a coward instead of speaking to me directly?

That was better.

How dare you not confess your love for me and demand I stay in London?

Now that was what she really wanted to say, though she knew she couldn’t.

“What are you going to say to him?” Emir asked, unknowingly pressing his thumb right into the open wound.

“I don’t know, Emir,” she replied softly.

“Are we going to stay in England then?”

“I don’t think so.”

“But doesn’t this mean he loves you? Don’t you love him too?”