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The housekeeper’s words knocked her back on her heels.

He had left. She was too late.

More than that, she was forced to confront an uncomfortable truth: he had orchestrated all of this deliberately. The timing of the solicitor’s visit and his departure the night before—none of it was coincidence. He didn’t want her to confront him. He didn’t want to see her before she left England.

Very well. She would give him exactly what he wanted.

She returned to the carriage with as much dignity as she could muster, instructing the driver to take them directly to the docks.

“What happened?” Emir asked immediately, reading the defeat in her posture.

“He’d already left for his estate,” she replied, staring out the window at the passing London streets without really seeing them.

“So?” Emir’s tone suggested this was a minor obstacle. “We should go after him. How far could his estate be?”

“No,” Leila said firmly. “I can’t chase after a man who clearly doesn’t want to be found. I love him—you were right about that. But perhaps you were wrong about his feelings for me. If he truly loved me, he would have come to see me off or at least visited me beforehand to explain his plans. He didn’t want to see me. He made that clear.”

Perhaps she was also wrong about his feelings, and the money was merely a payment for her services.

The bitter thought left a venomous taste in her mouth.

The journey to the docks passed in heavy silence, both siblings lost in their own thoughts.

The London harbor was an assault on the senses—the foul tang of the Thames, the cacophony of sailors shouting orders, the creak of rigging, and the splash of waves against hulls. Ships of all sizes crowded the waterfront, their masts creating a forest of wood and rope against the gray sky.

Passengers were already boarding the ship that would take them across the Mediterranean.

But as the final call for passengers echoed across the dock, Leila found herself frozen in place. Her feet simply would not carry her up the gangplank. She stood there, staring at the ship that would take her away from England—away from him—while Emir studied her with curious but patient eyes.

“Are you boarding the ship or not?”

The voice that came from directly behind her wasn’t Emir’s. It was low and deep, smooth and sweet, like honey.

Leila whirled around so quickly that she nearly lost her balance. There, standing among his own collection of travel trunks, was Gideon. His silver hair was slightly disheveled from travel, his usually perfect cravat askew, and there was something different in his expression—a vulnerability she had never seen before.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, her heart hammering so hard she was sure he could hear it.

“I was thinking of going to Smyrna,” he said, his tone casual. “But if you’re staying in England, I might just change my mind as well.”

“What?” The question came out as barely a whisper.

Gideon ran a hand through his hair. “I had loaded my carriage and was halfway to my estate when I realized something rather important. I don’t actually want to go there.”

Leila blinked in surprise.

“I have nothing holding me in England anymore—no mission, no purpose, no reason to remain.” He paused, meeting her eyes directly. “I’ve survived for so long, mission after mission, one day after another, that I forgot what it’s like to live.”

“What are you saying?” Leila asked, though her heart began to race with hope she was afraid to acknowledge.

“I’ve been thinking about everything that’s happened, everything I’ve lost and gained,” Gideon said, his words coming faster now, as if he feared she might disappear before he could finish. “My revenge is over. My mission is accomplished. And honestly, I never expected to survive it. But now that I have, I find myself facing a choice I never thought I’d encounter again.” He took a step closer. “I want to live again.”

“And what does that mean to you?” she asked softly. “Living?”

“Being in love,” he said without hesitation. “Marrying the woman I am madly, desperately, completely in love with. Accompanying her wherever she wants to go, even if that means leaving everything I’ve ever known behind.” His voice dropped to just above a whisper. “If she’ll have me.”

Leila felt tears spring to her eyes, but she forced herself to voice the practical objection that stood like a wall between them. “But you can’t just abandon everything. You’re a duke.”

“So what?” Gideon’s laugh was bitter yet somehow liberating. “What has the dukedom ever given me but heartache? I can’t marry you here—our marriage would be illegitimate. We can’t have legitimate children; they would never be acknowledged as my heirs. I refuse to live in a society that would not accept you as my duchess.” His expression hardened with resolve. “Let the Crown seize my title and lands eventually. They can find another duke who actually wants the burden.”