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Her pretty face went ashen, but she nodded. “My gut is saying keep this to ourselves for now. She’s a lady, Val…and a friend.”
Valentine opened his mouth to reply when something like a firing cannon blasted through the air and the entire ship rocked, a thick black plume of smoke rising from one of the funnels in the middle of the ship. Lisbeth let out a scream and grabbed hold of the railing, staring up at the mushroom-shaped cloud.
“What the fuck was that?” Valentine roared, eyes roaming the horizon for a ship that might have fired on them, but the seas were clear. “Were we hit?”
“Boiler explosion,” Rawley shouted as he ran past.
Hell, the captain hadn’t been minimizing the problems. Thank goodness they were near the French coast. Boiler explosions caused by pressure failure due to faulty valves or corrosion were common on steamships, though he knew for a fact that Ashvale took meticulous care to maintain his vessels. Or it could have been a firebox explosion in the furnace caused by vapor accumulation. Either were a possibility and both were dangerous.
Lisbeth composed herself. “I’ll go check on the passengers.”
While she took off toward the main lounges, Valentine headed back up to the captain’s deck where the man was furiously ringing the bell for the engine order telegraph and calling for dead slow. “We’ll have to reroute to Brest. It’s closer. I won’t take the chance that the metal will crack. If the cold seawater touches the hot metal…”
The captain’s voice trailed off, his face going pale. Valentine knew what would happen. Ships had sunk easily because of that. England’s coast wasn’t that far from France, but even a few kilometers could mean the difference between life and death. “Very well,” he said. “Do you know what kind of explosion it was?”
The captain huffed. “Hopefully not the sink-to-the-bottom-of-the-ocean kind, but we need to take every precaution.”
Rawley burst through the door, face purple and panting from the effort of having run back from the engine room of the big ship. “Furnace fire. Contained. For now.” He blew out a breath. “No injured.”
The relief on the captain’s face was clear. “Thank God.”
Valentine pressed his lips together. “We’re going to Brest,” he told Rawley. “Just to be safe. I agree with that. Once the ship has been checked, we can leave for England. If it’s not safe, we will make alternate arrangements for travel.”
“A sound plan,” Rawley said.
“Everyone should stay onboard,” the captain said. “I’ll make an announcement to the passengers and let them know it was nothing to be frightened over. These things happen. We have enough provisions on the ship for a week or more, and we can get more supplies if needed in France.”
“Very good.” Valentine nodded.
There was still the matter of Lady Bronwyn, but the small fire had bought them a few days. He would think upon Lisbeth’s advice. There was no point in making a rash decision without considering all the angles. Meanwhile, the Kestrel was going nowhere.
Fourteen
Bronwyn felt the threads of panic catching in her throat, making it hard to breathe. She kept expecting to see the Duke of Thornbury around every corner. She was convinced they were going to get caught because the man wasalwayswatching. Even when she hid in her rooms, she could sense his attention on her. It was infuriating!
“This way, my lady,” Cora whispered as they snuck down the gangplank during dinner, while Rawley’s men kept a close eye on the duke and his companion, Lady Lisbeth. It was dark, but the ship was well lit enough to see…and to be seen.
The ship had docked in Brest as Rawley had said they would. As promised, the explosion necessitating the change in course had been small, but had still made a screech of fright tear from her chest when she’d felt the walls of her stateroom rumble. Most of the passengers had been assured they weren’t in any danger and the stop in France was simply a precaution. The captain promised that they would be en route to England within the matter of a day or two…which meant the window of escape was narrow.
At first the plan had been to sneak off the ship during the first night, but Thornbury had not slept, keeping a keen eye on the decks as though he was expecting trouble. His vigilance had frustrated Rawley, but he had adjusted the plan without losing a beat. The duke might not sleep, but he did have to eat. Bronwyn had made an appearance at dinner the next evening, flirting with her usual entourage though it had taken enormous concentration to play the part of the coquette, and then on to the gala. During the ball, she’d had to time it exactly when both Thornbury and Lady Lisbeth were dancing, andnotwith each other.
She’d met Rawley’s gaze when he’d asked Lisbeth to dance, and made eyes at the silliest of her admirers, Lord Daley. The earnest buck was quick to take the bait and usher her onto the ballroom floor. Bronwyn had made sure to be seen, if not heard, with her habitual tinkling laughter, before she’d excused herself mid-dance to the retiring room.
From there, it’d been a matter of changing her bold, daffodil-yellow gown with the help of a quiet maid—one of Rawley’s trusted few onboard, no doubt—and donning a dark cloak over her garments before slipping outside to meet Cora. Precious, hurried minutes later, they were in a coach on the wharf and heading toward the train station in Brest where a private rail car would be waiting. They’d toyed with the idea of traveling in disguise in public, but it was too dangerous. Luckily, Rawley seemed to be quite industrious at making arrangements.
“How did he do all this so quickly?” Bronwyn asked Cora, whispering though she didn’t have to, now that they were alone in the carriage.
Cora smiled. “Noel is smart, personable, and has friends in many places, high and low. There’s a reason your brother trusts him with his life and yours. Rawley is almost synonymous with the name Ashvale in England, across the Atlantic, and even here in France.”
“Noel?”
Her cheeks flushed. “His given name.”
“So it’s that serious between you?”
“He has asked me to marry him,” she confessed softly. “And I have accepted.”
Bronwyn’s heart twanged with an odd combination of joy and envy. She’d never been envious of any of her set who announced marriages, likely because her own mother was plotting her nuptials at every turn. Though now, something squeezed in her chest. Perhaps it was because Cora and Rawley’s connection was real and the union was notarranged. “Oh, how wonderful, Cora! I am happy for you both. Only I hate to be bringing you into this mess. You should be with him.”
