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“This is dangerous, Bee.”
“No more dangerous than Mary Richards surviving in an unsafe space,” she shot back and then bit her lip hard. “My life shouldn’t carry more weight than hers. I had to do this, Rawley. People were at risk.” One important person in particular, not that she could admit that to him.Oh, Rawley, putting myself in danger might have saved the life of the American president.
He didn’t speak for a few moments. “In a perfect world, the value of human life would be the same, but we’re not in a perfect world, are we? We’re in one that makes race a reductive device, used on the oppressed by oppressors, for profit.”
“That’s why I want to help,” she said fiercely. “That kind of thinking has to end.”
“It does, but power is never given,” he murmured. “It’s always taken, by strife and by blood.” When she didn’t speak, he exhaled and ran his palm over his short hair. “Your decisions are your own and I respect that. However, your brother wants you safe, and while I understand your motivations, those men at the tavern are out for blood. Your blood. Last I heard, there was a bounty on your head for your capture along with a list of names you carry.”
She flinched. “On my head? I assure you, Rawley, I am not carrying—” She broke off at the vexed look on his face and swallowed the rest of her protest. She’d had the damn thing in her bosom the night of the dancing in the lower decks. Thornbury wasn’t the only smart man with a pair of eyes.
“Keep your secrets, if you must,” he said. “I wanted to take you home to Antigua, but it was impossible to get you away from Thornbury without drawing suspicion to us both before the ship left port. And he knows I am from there, which meant it would have been the first place he looked.” His face tightened with frustration. “And so now we have to divert the ship for an alternate plan.”
“Divert the ship?” she asked, matching his frown. “We’re a day to England, if that.”
He nodded. “Hours. The captain has directions to stop at Brest in France, citing emergency engine repairs.”
“Thornbury will know something’s amiss.”
Rawley shook his head. “He won’t. I’ve been filling his ear with crew complaints with the boilers for the past few days. It will not come as a surprise.” He grinned, a lopsided quirk that she knew foretold mischief. “And besides, I have a fun little explosion planned.”
“An explosion!”
“Contained, Little Bee. Don’t you worry. Just enough of one to be convincing. Your duke has an uncanny attention to detail.”
“He’s not my duke,” she said without much heat.
Rawley only lifted a skeptical brow at that and then glanced over to Cora who was busy packing her things into a small portmanteau. “Whatever is going on with you and Thornbury is another problem for another day. In the meantime, Cora will be with you. She has all the information about where I will meet you in Paris. From there, we’ll await your brother’s instructions.”
Bronwyn bit her lip. “Is Courtland very angry?”
“He’s not happy, I’ll say that.” Rawley shrugged. “It’s more for your safety than anything else. That and the fact that your mother has been hounding him with fear of your absence. You know how he feels about the Marchioness of Borne.”
Bitterness flooded her. “She’s only worried about how she will look to her friends if I’ve gone and ruined myself. Trust me, it’s not out of any actual concern for my welfare.”
“Regardless, Ashvale wants you safe.”
She let out a breath. This was a good plan, and it would do until she could figure something out for herself and possibly get in contact with Wentworth. However, contradictory emotions were at odds in her body when it came to the duke—the thought of deceiving him felt wrong. “Rawley, do you think I can trust Thornbury?”
He didn’t answer for a bit, but then he shook his head. “I’m not entirely sure. The duke is a good man, but he’s England’s man first. His duty will be to the Crown and the Home Office. Your brother trusts him but says he will follow the law to the letter, and that will be his downfall.”
“How so?” she whispered, heart sinking. In other words, he would turn her over, no matter his own true feelings on the matter.
“Just because he’s a man of integrity doesn’t mean everyone else is.” Rawley sent her a compassionate look as though he could guess what his blunt words were doing to her. “And he’s no longer active. He will not be able to help you from within. Thornbury might want to do the right thing, but his faith in that office is misplaced considering the corruption running through its ranks.” He lowered his voice. “There are those, like Palmerston, who secretly support the American war for trade reasons, and others in the Home Office who disagreed with Thornbury’s arrest of Sommers.”
Her eyes rounded in shock. “Sommers was a bastard, involved in stolen goods and in the shipping of enslaved human beings!”
Rawley nodded. “You don’t have to tell me. The man was scum and deserved what he got, but he’d lined the pockets of many powerful men in England whose wealth was built off the back of such bondage.” His voice shook with a hint of its earlier intensity. “But money is king, even if it comes from the blood of innocent men.”
“It’s despicable,” she whispered.
He let out a breath. “Yes, it is, and I don’t intend to give up.”
“I wish I could do more.”
He sent her a soft, fond smile. Then he turned solemn. “Unfortunately, you have drawn the wrong kind of notice this time.”
A knot swelled in her throat, both from his words and the obvious warning. “So you’re telling me I have to run?”
