Bronwyn flinched at the consternation, and felt Thornbury’s gaze flutter to her from where he stood leaning against the doorjamb. “No need to make her feel worse, Ashvale. She was doing what she thought was right,” he said.

“Don’t get me started on you,” Courtland growled. “When this is over and done with, you and I will have words, I assure you.”

“Thornbury didn’t do anything, Courtland.” Heavens, why was she defending him? The rotter had locked her in her chambers for two days! She could feel his quiet surprise, but ignored it. “In fact you should thank him that I am here in one piece.”

That was entirely the wrong thing to say, considering her brother’s thunderous expression.

“This has to end, Bronwyn,” Courtland said through clenched teeth. She rolled her palms into fists at the curt order, ready to rail at him, ready to scream that she was in control of her own life, until his next softly spoken words. “You have no idea how terrified I was when Rawley’s cable came through. I cannot lose you, not when I’ve only just found you.”

Not even attempting to hold back the burst of her tears, she crumpled straight into her brother’s arms. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Courtland. I just wanted to do something. Make a difference. I don’t have a seat in the Lords, I can’t enact change like you and Thornbury can, but I can help in my own way.”

He wrapped her up in a warm embrace. “Not like this.”

She sniffed. “You expect me to sit at home? Do needlepoint, play the pianoforte, and twiddle my thumbs? Let the dogmatists win because they’re used to it?”

“No,” he said. “Your voice is power, Bronwyn, and the fact that you are willing to use it for the sake of those who need it says a lot about your character. But if you die, that proud, strong, compelling voice dies with you.”

Bronwyn exhaled, shoulders dipping with dejection. “So how do I help?”

“Small efforts make big ripples. You don’t have to be an infamous international spy, though it appears your methods are rather effective. I heard what you did for Lincoln.”

“Hardly infamous,” she muttered, dismay deepening that he obviously knew who she was and also what she’d done. Some spy she was turning out to be if her brother knew her every move. No surprise now considering the big, silent shadow she’d never noticed on her heels. She narrowed her gaze, thinking about Rawley who was arguably the cleverest spymaster of them all.