She’d taken her meals in her room, and only went out for brief walks to stretch her legs when Thornbury was at dinner or Cora was sure of his whereabouts. Bronwyn had managed to avoid Lady Lisbeth as well, but she knew the other woman was watching for her. The former countess and the duke used to be a team; they would be in cahoots naturally, burning both ends of the candle. Bronwyn had to be vigilant…and come up with a plan.

A knock on the door made her fly up.

“Cora, where have you been? I’ve… Oh.”

Because the person at the door wasn’t Cora. It was the man she wanted to see least in the world, even less than the duke, in fact. Rawley. Bronwyn gulped as he entered with her maid on his heels and closed the door behind the two of them. She stiffened, expecting a beratement of some sort, and opened her mouth, but before she could speak, he held a hand up. “We need to get you off this ship.”

Her jaw gaped and shut. “What?”

“Preferably without Thornbury knowing before you can get to safety.”

Eyes rounding in shock, she blinked like an owl. “I beg your pardon?”

“The minute we get to England, you will most likely be arrested by British operatives or snatched by very bad people, likely on our heels in another ship as we speak.”

Bronwyn frowned. Someone was following them? “What do you mean? No one beyond Thornbury and Lady Lisbeth know anything.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Little Bee. I sent a telegram to your brother before we left. When the duke brought you back on the ship, there were eyes and ears on you. You’ve put yourself in an inordinate amount of danger by running off as you did. Meeting with Richards was a risk.”

“You followed me?” she demanded.

He scowled. “And lost you for an entire night until you returned. I tracked you until the river and then lost the trail. When you turned up at the tavern, I was just about to involve the local police and cable your brother that you were missing.”

Bronwyn gulped. “I wasn’t in danger.”

“Weren’t you?” Thick black brows drew together into a thoughtful frown. “You know who Richards is, don’t you?” When she stayed quiet, he went on. “Mary Bowser—also known by many other names…Henley and Jones, to name two—is a wanted woman.”

“Yes, I know. She’s also a hero and only wanted because she’s fighting for basic human rights.”

Face unreadable, Rawley eyed her. “Is that what you think you are as well? A hero swooping in to save the day?”