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Damn and blast. He raked a hand through his hair and palmed his nape.
Valentine had to figure out how much to say and who to confide in because if the gossip got out, the scandal of an unmarried, unchaperoned lady being on her own in America would be insurmountable. Loose lips would sink more than ships. They’d sink whole futures. And while Bronwyn had deceived him and led him on a merry chase, he was loath to bring more ruin down upon her head. He really was going soft.
After finishing up in the bath and dressing in a new set of clothing, he made his way toward one of the lounges where he’d arranged to meet Lisbeth. She would have to know the truth in order to keep an eye on his clever little captive. Lisbeth sat at the pianoforte, fingers drifting over the keys in a lively melody. As usual, she was surrounded by a throng of admirers, male and female. She wouldn’t have lacked for company even though he was unforgivably tardy.
“I was beginning to think you had forgotten our rendezvous, Thornbury,” she drawled when his dank expression scared off most of her hangers-on, who retreated a safe distance away. “I almost had to stop a duel from happening over who would be my new escort in to dinner.”
“Sorry I’m late. Something came up.”
An amused brow lifted, a smirk drifting over her mouth. “Does that something have brown hair, bright blue eyes, and a body made for an artist’s canvas?”
Positively. Valentine ignored the rush in his blood and schooled his features to remain blank. He couldn’t, however, keep the flush from heating the tips of his ears. Predictably, Lisbeth’s smile widened, but she kept those opinions to herself.
“Yes and no,” he replied. “She’s a nuisance who’s only going to get herself killed.”
Lisbeth ran her fingers over a scale and then turned to face him. “You have blinders on where the lady is concerned, Val. She’s more accomplished than you think.”
Didn’t he know it now. Valentine loosed a breath and resisted the urge to tug on his cravat. He leaned in, voice low. “We need to talk.”
Lisbeth rose, much to the disappointment of her audience who had retreated to a safe distance but were still present. She had a way with people. They fell to her charms like blocks of dominoes.Like Bronwyn.Valentine’s scowl deepened. The two women were nothing alike.
When he led Lisbeth to a quiet set of armchairs in an alcove that wasn’t in the middle of the room, she frowned at his expression as she took the seat opposite him. “Do I even want to know what this is about?”
Best to just get it out. “She’s the Kestrel.”
Whatever she’d been expecting him to say, he knew it wasn’t that. Her mouth went slack, her eyes glittering with shock bleeding into mirth, and then she started to laugh. Those light, airy chuckles drew attention, but Valentine couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d laugh too, if the whole situation didn’t painthimin the worst possible light.
He’d missed all the signs.
He’d been led like a dog following a meaty bone.
He’d taken dreadful advantage and deflowered a lady.
“It’s not that funny,” he growled.
Lisbeth wiped her eyes and shook her head. “Of course the Kestrel is a woman,” she said. “I had my suspicions, but the Home Office was so adamant it was a man. And of course they were. No man could be so elusively brilliant. My hat is off to her. Honestly, I think I’m half in love with her already.”
“The Home Office might have done that on purpose,” Valentine said, ignoring the dreadful fact that a part of him—a very small, very insignificant part—admired Bronwyn’s ingenuity as well. She was smart, persistent, dangerously clever, and as stubborn as a mule. Even his threats to make her confess had been futile. Those traits were to be admired. He scowled. In any other womanbuther.
Lisbeth frowned. “How so?”
“I believe that the Kestrel may be a double operative, or at least someone working for the British Crown in some other capacity.” He went on to briefly explain what had transpired, leaving out the frantic half an hour in the woods, but by the time he was done, her eyebrows had climbed to her hairline.
“Val, you slept in the same building alone,” she said softly. “She’s the sister of a bloody duke. What were you thinking?”
The guilt was instantaneous, considering they’d done much more than sleep. While it’d been by mutual consent, the fact that they had passed an entire night together unchaperoned meant that British society would hold them both in contempt. They might as well have been copulating all night long for what it would look like to the denizens of theton.
Valentine raked a hand through his hair for the tenth time. “Iknow. I couldn’t very well find a chaperone in the middle of nowhere while we were running for our lives, could I?”
“What will you do?”
“Take her back to London and hand her over as quietly as possible. Ashvale will have to deal with any fallout at that point.”
An odd look crossed Lisbeth’s face. “You’d just abandon her?”
“Did you not hear a word that I said?” he whispered furiously. “She’s the bloody Kestrel! A spy you have been searching for and dragged me in to help you find. If it were any other person, trust me, neither of us would be this…concerned. I’ve done my part and it’s finished.”
“Just like that.”
