Those quiet words lodged like blades between her ribs as Bronwyn sucked in a horrified breath. Of course she’d considered what would happen if word got out about her activities—protecting her sister, Florence, and her family was paramount—but she’d never thought about how her reputation as a female spy would reflect upon her brother’s work in Parliament, should her identity come to light. And besides, she’d been guaranteed protection by Wentworth. He could make this go away. “That’s preposterous. You’re being unfair. They won’t use me to unseat him.”

“You think I’m being unfair? They will vilify you—and by association, him—in every way possible to support their own dogmatic views. Surely I don’t have to remind you of what some of the peers in the ton are capable of, especially in the protection of their own very selfish financial interests? They will not hesitate to tear him down by reference to what you’ve done. A lady of your stature gallivanting all over England and across the Atlantic?” The duke cursed under his breath. “Ashvale has been very vocal about the practices in the Southern states, but he does not have the support of everyone in the Lords.”

Her eyes widened. God, he was good. Now Bronwyn understood why the Duke of Thornbury was such an excellent operative. His quiet intensity and impassioned list of her purported transgressions made her feel as if he were on her side, made her want to confide in him…to beg for his help. To trust him.

Was he on her side though? Or was he simply rooting for information?

Her mind whirled with possibilities. She didn’t want to hurt Courtland, but she could control only her own actions, not anyone else’s. Right now, only Thornbury and Lady Lisbeth knew of her identity. They were not yet on English shores, and once they arrived, things would change. She might be arrested, her brother would be informed, and Wentworth would have to bail her out. Bronwyn blinked, considering that last point. What if Wentworth wasn’t the man she thought he was either? What if he left her swaying in the wind to protect his own identity? She’d always trusted him, but she’d never been in this much trouble.

Was saving his own skin more important than hers?

He was a man. Of course it would be.

Letting out an aggravated sigh, Thornbury scrubbed his hand over his face and stared out into the moonlit night. “How did you even come to do something like this? It’s not normal fare for a lady of quality.”