Those thick brows nearly shot into his hairline. “Don’t take that hoity-toity tone with me, Little Bee. It might work to cow everyone else onboard, but not me. I did not tell you I was here because Ashvale did not want me to.”

She squashed down the burst of shame at her pretentious behavior and being called out for it so baldly. “Do you do everything my brother tells you?”

He smirked. “Perhaps as much as you do.”

Bronwyn had the decency to blush. Clearly not, then. So that meant Rawley was spying on her, watching to see what she was up to. Thankfully, she’d hidden the sensitive correspondence from everyone, including her lady’s maid, while in the privacy of her stateroom. Bronwyn bit her lip, attention flicking back to Cora who had moved to stand close to Rawley and stood wringing her hands and blushing. It was obvious there was something between them, especially from the soft looks her maid was sending Courtland’s cousin.

Bronwyn narrowed her eyes. “How long has this been going on?”

Rawley relaxed. “For some time.”

The expression of tenderness that crossed the big man’s face was impossible to ignore. A long time, if Bronwyn had to guess. Something like envy curled through her. She was happy for them, just as she was happy that Courtland had found Ravenna. Love was a rare gift, not that she would ever be given the opportunity to receive it. Her mother intended to marry her off to the richest, most well-titled peer in London, and the chance of a love match for her would be like wishing for rain in purgatory.

It wouldn’t matter if her future husband was old or ugly or cruel, or gained his wealth in an untoward manner. As long as he was part of the peerage, he would do. Bronwyn didn’t have any illusions about that. And while Courtland was her guardian, her mother was devious in ways that could not be fathomed. No doubt upon her return, Bronwyn would be locked away in Kettering at the country seat until she could be safely married off to a man of her mother’s choosing, right underneath her brother’s nose.

In truth, that had been one of the reasons she’d agreed to the assignment in the first place.

Bronwyn wanted to make a real difference, yes. But she also knew her wings would be clipped soon enough, and she would be trapped in a fate she would not easily escape. Born and raised to be a peer’s broodmare, her future was sealed. And if the Marchioness of Borne had her way, that would be sooner rather than later.

No thank you.