Valentine turned and gaped. From the top of her gleaming brown hair to the tips of her dainty polished boots, Bronwyn shone like the lady she was. The periwinkle-blue dress hugged every sinful curve, clinging to her bosom and that tiny waist before flaring in satin folds to the deck. Her eyes sparkled and he’d never seen anything lovelier in his life. “Lady Bronwyn.”

“Your Grace.” She wrinkled her nose at the pungent scent of the Thames. “Smells like home.”

“You should wait belowdecks,” he said, the words emerging much harsher than he’d intended. Had she dressed like that to tease him with what he could not have? Heat burst under his collar when those clear blue eyes met his. Not for the first time, he wished he could read what he saw swimming in them, but Bronwyn was fast becoming a master of artifice, or maybe she’d been one all along. A thick fringe of lashes fluttered down as if, she could only hold his gaze for so long.

The Duke of Ashvale made a sound of approval. “Here’s the Metropolitan Police now. Give them a few minutes and we shall be on our way.”

“Thank you, Brother,” Bronwyn said. “But I’ve made other arrangements.”

Valentine’s stare narrowed.

“Bronwyn,” Ashvale began. “You know what’s at stake.”

She reached up and pressed a kiss to her brother’s cheek. “Relax, Courtland, you will be happy to know that I intend to surround myself with so many admirers and potential suitors that no one will even have the space to get a shot off at me.” She grinned at both of them, and that smile had teeth that Valentine recognized. He could feel the prick of them against his jugular, even as he turned in slow motion to follow her gaze, to where the colorful fop from the neighboring ship ambled along the docks.

Recognition dawned like the taste of ashes.

Devil take it.

“I’ve invited Monsieur de Tremblay to join us in London for the rest of the season,” she said airily as they walked down the walkway. “Isn’t that lovely? I wasn’t sure he would be able to come on such short notice, but well, here he is. My French knight in shining armor.”

Valentine gritted his jaw and curled his palms into fists. He had many other descriptors in mind, the least of which stemmed from a sudden surge of misplaced jealousy. Said knight was in armor so bright, it was a wonder everyone wasn’t blinded.

“Your Grace,” Tremblay said with a smart bow to Ashvale. “How good of you to offer to host me. That is so very kind of you.”