No, because her brother would hardly approve if he knew she’d name-dropped him to commandeer one of the owner’s suites onboard. Hiding out in a common stateroom would not have been ideal—what if she’d been recognized?—so she’d elected to travel in plain sight. A loud and obnoxious heiress was dismissible. She had no doubt that Courtland would hear about the incident, but she hoped to have delivered the packet and be on the return voyage by that point. As far as anyone was concerned, Lady Bronwyn Chase was a vapid nuisance, abusing her brother’s connections and wealth and visiting an ailing family member.

It was a thin camouflage at best, but the only one she could come up with.

“Ashvale doesn’t keep track of my every step, Your Grace,” she snipped, her stare dipping pointedly to the long fingers still pressed in the crook of her elbow. He did not take the hint, damn the man, one corner of that indecent bottom lip kicking up in a way that suggested he was well aware of what his touch was doing to her. Bronwyn pushed a haughty smirk to her lips. “And besides, it’s not as though everyone onboard doesn’t know who I am. My brother owns this vessel, after all.”

Distaste flickered across his face, and she winced. Better he think her a shallow, frivolous excuse for a chit who was using her brother’s title and property than the reality. Still, something inside of her rebelled. She wanted him to keep her in some esteem.

Duty won out over pride, of course, as she widened her coy smile. “Don’t tell anyone, but I cannot wait to see Philadelphia. Do you know how much they fawn over aristocrats? As if our blood is so blue, it’s gold. Perhaps I shall find myself an obscenely rich husband for my efforts. I suppose that’s why Mama agreed to let me go. Fatten the coffers and all that.”

“Indeed.” The word dripped with derision.

Heavens. She almost loathed herself in that moment, but the unguarded disgust blooming on the duke’s countenance was like a blow. She ignored it…his instant and unguarded contempt. Bronwyn felt her cheeks heat, but played into her performance. Her gaze canvassed him in an almost covetous way, lashes dropping bashfully. “I hope you don’t think me forward, Your Grace, but perhaps we should have dinner one night. For my brother’s sake.”

The hefty flirtation worked like a charm.

He released her like a hot coal and bowed, the slightest dip of his head as though he couldn’t muster much more than that, his face going studiously blank. Cold. Untouchable.

“Perhaps. Enjoy your trip, my lady.”

***

God but she was a spoiled, abominable brat.