Without Courtland’s presence, his ambitious stepbrother would no doubt have led a charge to prove he was the Duke of Ashvale’s true heir. Courtland wondered idly if his stepmother had tried to have him declared dead through the courts. He wondered what his grandfather might have had to say about that.

Scowling as fresh feelings of bitterness rose, Courtland stalked forward to refill Ravenna’s glass and then his, lifting a brow and waiting for her answer. Her brother would never have condoned this, that much he knew.

“Stop dithering around and answer me—what does Embry believe?”

“He thinks I’m in Scotland with Clara.”

“Clara?”

“A recently married dear friend. She wed a Scottish earl.”

Courtland frowned. “How is Embry not worried?”

“I wrote several letters in advance, which she will mail out at monthly intervals, and swore Clara to secrecy as long as I was in good health.” She lifted her glass and sipped. “Which as you can see I am. No need to trouble my brother.”

“And this Clara considers you a friend?” He didn’t hide his sardonic tone.

Her eyes narrowed on him. “The best kind.”

“Forgive me if I’ve been out of London society too long, but friends don’t force friends to lie on their behalf. Much less lie to a respected and rather formidable peer of the realm.”

Ravenna tossed her head. “What Embry doesn’t know won’t hurt him, and besides, he’s just had a new baby and deserves every joy. If he knew where I was, he’d be frantic with worry instead of focusing on his own happiness.”

“For good reason, you daft girl!”

“Because I’m female?” she shot back. “Why should men have all the adventure and women be forced to sit at home tending the hearth? We are not possessions or brainless biddable toys designed for male consumption.”

He almost choked on his drink at the images her provocative words produced, but the hostility beneath was clear. “Because it’s not safe or smart for a woman to be traveling on her own.”

“I know how to use a pistol, Cordy,” she said. “I was a better shot than you, remember? Or perhaps you choose not to remember how many times I bested you just to preserve your insufferably delicate male pride.”

He didn’t remember her being this…caustic. Silent laughter rippled through him. Who was he fooling? She’d always been a hothead.

“We were children then,” he said. “And my name is Courtland, not Cordy.”

“Apparently, it’s Ashvale now,” she reminded him.

Yes, it was, apparently. He was going to have to deal with that complication as soon as possible, too. “How did you get here anyway?”