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And not just the arousal under her skirts. In truth, she hadn’t been above dragging the man to the nearest alcove and demanding that he ruin her properly. The only thing that had stopped her—that had kept her from carrying on like a seasoned courtesan—was the watchful eye of Rawley, even though he’d had his hands full with Cora.
Likethatwasn’t a surprise in itself. The normally talkative maid was tight-lipped about her torrid affair with Ashvale’s cousin, though she did admit that she was deeply in love with him. Love was a far step from the emotion Bronwyn felt with Thornbury.
More like carnal dementia, thanks to all the blood from her brain that had descended to intimate regions in tune to the throbbing beat of the drums. She’d felt that thundering pulse everywhere…behind her breastbone, at the points of her nipples, between her drenched thighs.
Shehadbeen wet for him, there was no denying that fascinating force of nature or the fact that he made her body thaw to liquid with just a word, much less than his touch. The moment she had sensed him enter the room, every hair on her nape had risen. The awareness had been instant and visceral, like a shock of lightning to her nerves.
No doubt Rawley would be reporting back to her brother about her scandalous behavior and the fact that she had been practically writhing on his longtime acquaintance in a public space. Anyone could have seen them, including the handful of aristocrats and gentry who’d been on the upper deck, and the fact that everyone had been of a similar mind to dance beneath the stars would not stop juicy gossip.
Then again, it wasn’t like the other passengers and off-duty crew weren’t wrapped up in their own little worlds. Perhaps no one had taken notice of the two of them. Heat rushed through her at the memory. She hadn’t been able to curb herself, not when she’d felt that strong palm sliding over her trembling belly and then her waist, the tip of his thumb so very near to her needy, aching breasts.
She’d wanted that thumb to go higher. To squeeze. To pinch and roll.
You were lucky it didn’t before he discovered what was really inside your bodice.
The solemn voice was a reminder of how close she’d come to being found out. The lie about the letter had been easy enough. If she had said it was nothing, his curiosity would have been piqued. A love letter had been nothing short of a stroke of genius because now he was back to thinking she was a witless, smitten idiot with a misplaced infatuation who was intent on declaring her heart.
She let out a low laugh.
Nothing like the threat of undying devotion to send a man scurrying for the hills.
Regret sluiced through her. For once, she had wanted him toseeher as she was, and he had. Gods, that moment of being stripped to her elemental core had nearly cost her everything, but in hindsight, she did not regret the choice to dance, knowing part of her performancehadbeen for him, despite her protest to the contrary. The duke had desired her.
She’d seen the glint of hunger brightening those golden eyes, felt the possession in those large hands.
All for her.
What would it be like to couple with a man capable of such passion?
“My lady?” There was an edge of impatience to Cora’s voice as though she’d tried to get through to her several times. Blushing at the indecent swerve of her thoughts, Bronwyn blinked and gestured for her to continue. “Shall I ask the footmen to come for the luggage?”
“Oh, yes. Please do.”
They would be disembarking in short order, and with some luck, she would not cross paths with the disturbing Duke of Thornbury. Something occurred to her as she watched the maid flit around like a distracted bird.
“Cora? Did you tell Rawley that I would be on this ship?”
Wide eyes met hers. “No, my lady.” Bronwyn relaxed, seeing only earnestness in the girl’s stare, but then her stomach sank at her next words. “He already knew.”
Shit.
What else did he know? And if by default her brother also knew, which was obvious, then why did he not put a stop to it? Courtland might be coiled around the finger of his very daunting duchess, but he was exceedingly protective about family, which included Bronwyn.
Heavens, what if he told Rawley to forbid her from leaving the ship? He wouldn’t, would he? The answer was there on the heels of the denial. Courtland would, and could, given he was a duke and accustomed to being obeyed. And it wasn’t as though she could fight Rawley. The man was the size of a mountain, and in truth, he was just as protective and probably even more so than her elder brother.
She would have to tread carefully and quickly. As much as pushing the limits thrilled her in addition to doing what she could to make the difference in the world she so wanted, she did not want to lose the esteem of the brother she’d only just found.
How important could this message be?
Perhaps she should just tear it to pieces and dispose of it in the ocean.
The thought didn’t sit well with her. She’d come this far. She had to complete what she’d committed to for Wentworth’s sake. He believed in their cause of righting the wrongs that the British Empire had wrought through colonization. What they were doing would help those who remained oppressed and enslaved in the American states. Who knew what rested upon the delivery of this letter that she had been tasked with?
Wentworth hadn’t been sure to trust her, but her brother’s passenger liner had been the fastest way to get to Philadelphia, and he’d been trapped between the devil and a hard place. Bronwyn had sensed her handler’s indecision.
“Perhaps, I should go,” he’d said.
“No, you’re too well known,” Bronwyn had insisted. “I’ll do it. I’m Ashvale’s sister. No one will suspect me.”
