His partner patted his shoulder with a laugh. “I think you gentlemen put too little faith in us women. If she’s anything like her elder brother, that girl won’t allow herself to be ruined. Or perhaps she’s the sort who doesn’t put much stock in ruination—we’re quite a popular set, you know. Keep an eye on her, if you must, but I suspect that Lady Bronwyn might be made of much sterner stuff than we know.”

“I won’t hold my breath,” he said drily. “The chit’s head is full of matrimonial ribbons and conceited delusions of grandeur.”

Lisbeth laughed at his droll reply. “She sounds delightful! I could do with some entertainment after the last few days. Invite me to your little dinner and I’ll be the judge. Twenty guineas says you’re overreacting.”

He entered his room and nodded just before closing the door. “I’ll take that wager. Don’t blame me when your ears start to bleed, and remember that you brought this on yourself.”

A pair of limpid crystal-blue eyes formed in his head with a face like an angel. She had the body of a siren and the wits of a gnat. Despite the former, Valentine felt a beat of distaste. He’d never been a man ruled by base passions. He wasn’t about to start now. Lady Bronwyn might be beautiful, but she was a pest and a grasping sycophant just like her mother.

He scowled with dispassion. He would not allow her to filter into his thoughts…or his dreams. Some strong physical activity was in order so that he could work himself to exhaustion and fall into a dreamless sleep. After putting his body through a grueling bout of exercises that left his muscles weary and shivering, he was finally fatigued enough to crawl into bed.

He needed rest.

Hopefully, one unplagued by blue-eyed angels intent on wedlock.

Two

Bronwyn’s hands trembled as Cora put the finishing touches on her coiffure. When the maid was done, Bronwyn dismissed her and expelled a labored breath. Why, oh why hadn’t she gone incognito? Purchased a ticket for a smaller stateroom. Worn a disguise. Not been so in-his-face bold. Because that was the problem with catching the attention of a man like the Duke of Thornbury. It could not be uncaught.

A cold shiver rolled through her. Over the past two days, she had felt his piercing gaze upon her the moment she entered any shared space on the ship. In the cardroom, he’d watched her instead of his cards. In the ballroom, she’d felt his looming presence, even though he’d never approached for a dance.

Bronwyn felt exposed.