The coach rolled to a stop and Bronwyn peered out the window, squinting into the darkness. They were not on a well-lit front street. Instead, they seemed to be in the mews behind the residence. That didn’t mean that eyes weren’t watching. In the last year, she’d learned that someone was always looking. She pulled her cloak over her head so that her face was hidden by the cowl. Thornbury descended and offered her his hand along the uneven cobblestones before ushering her inside the manse to a dark hallway.

She frowned. “Where are your servants?”

“Out or abed,” he said, discarding his hat, greatcoat, and gloves on a table before moving to take hers. “When there is a ball and I am in residence, I give them the rest of the night off, once they’ve finished their duties.”

“That’s generous of you,” she said.

“It would be an excruciatingly dreadful measure of a man if he could not open the door to his own home himself.”

“Isn’t that what they are paid for? I don’t mean that in a haughty way,” she said quickly. “Butlers are supposed to stand at the door and greet their master or guests.”

He winked. “Not my butler. At least not when I need him in another capacity.”

Bronwyn’s pink mouth fell open as his intent became clear. “Your servants are informants?”

“I know you are pretending to be shocked right now, Lady Kestrel. There is an extraordinary network of information and secrets out there. I would be a fool if I didn’t take advantage of it with loyal servants under my employ. In our world, information is gold bullion.”

Valentine didn’t blink at the fact that he’d said our world, but she heard it and a strange warmth filled her breast. The sooner he stopped treating her like a child who had wandered into her father’s cigar room, the better it would be for everyone. He peered down at her. “Would you like a tour or shall we get straight to the main event, considering the whole of Scotland Yard might come looking for you once you’re not discovered sick at home?”

It would be so like her mother to send the entire Metropolitan Police force after her. Bronwyn stifled a giggle and glanced around, eyes wide with interest at the muted but beautiful details of the foyer. “A tour, of course! I’ve always wondered where you lived, and now getting to see it is…like a glimpse into who you are.” The look on the duke’s face was priceless! She’d never seen someone look so dejected and try to shore it up with false energy. She snorted. “Good Lord, your face! The main event, you silly man. I don’t care about any of the rooms in your house unless it contains a very sturdy bed.”