The Other Miss Bridgerton (Rokesbys #3)(22)

“Thank you.” It was a bit ridiculous how pleased she felt by his compliment.

“Never met a proper lady before.” He shuffled from foot to foot. “Didn’t think you’d be so nice t’me.”

“I try to be nice to everyone.” She frowned. “Except perhaps the captain.”

Billy’s mouth fell open, and he looked as if he didn’t know if he should laugh or gasp.

“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I jest.”

Well, a little.

“The captain is the best of men,” Billy said fervently. “I promise you. You’ll not meet finer. I know I said he doesn’t share his brandy, but he’s right good in all other ways, an’ I don’t like brandy, anyway.”

“I’m sure you’re correct,” she said with what she called her drawing room smile. It was the one she used when she did not mean to be in sincere . . . but she was not quite being honest either. “I’m just a bit vexed that I’m here.”

“You’re not the only one.” Billy clapped a hand to his mouth. “I’m sorry, miss!”

But Poppy was already laughing. “No, don’t apologize. It was very amusing. And from what I’ve heard, true.”

Billy scrunched up his face in sympathy. “It’s not normal to have a lady on board, Miss Poppy. I’ve heard fearsome tales of disaster.”

“Disaster brought about by the presence of a woman?”

Billy nodded, perhaps a little too vigorously. “But I don’t believe it. Not anymore. The captain told me it weren’t true. An’ he doesn’t lie.”

“Ever?”

“Never.” Billy said this so firmly Poppy thought he might salute.

“Well,” Poppy said briskly, “thank you for bringing breakfast. I am quite hungry.”

“Yes, miss. If y’want, just leave the tray outside the door. Then I won’t have to bother you when I collect it.”

Poppy couldn’t bring herself to tell him that their conversations were likely to be the high point of her day, so instead she said, “It won’t be a bother. And besides, I don’t think I’m permitted to open the door.”

Billy frowned. “Not even open it?”

Poppy shrugged and held her hands out as if to say, Who knows? “The captain and I did not discuss the particulars of my confinement.”

“Seems a bit unreasonable,” Billy said, scratching his head. “The captain’s not usually like that.”

Poppy shrugged again, this time tipping her head to the side in an I-don’t-know-what-to-tell-you expression.

“Well,” Billy said with a little bow, “I hope you enjoy your breakfast. I think Cook gave you bacon.”

“Thank you again, Billy. I—” She cut herself off when he opened the door. “Oh, one thing!”

He paused. “Yes, miss?”

“Can I peek out?”

“Beg pardon?”

It was ludicrous that she even had to ask. “Can I peek outside the door? I haven’t even seen the corridor.”

“How’d you get here?”

“I was in a sack.”

Billy’s face went slack. “But you’re a proper lady!”

“Not all the time, apparently,” she muttered, and she dashed over to the open door to stick out her head.

“Not much to see,” Billy said regretfully.

But she still found it interesting. It was obviously the nicest part of the ship, or at least Poppy assumed it was. The hallway was not lit, but a small patch of sunlight shone down the stairwell, and she could see that the wooden walls were oiled and polished. There were three other doors, all on the other side of the corridor, and each had a well-made brass handle. “Who sleeps in the other cabins?” she asked.

“That one’s for the navigator,” Billy said with a jerk of his head. “His name is Mr. Carroway. He doesn’t say much, ’cept when he’s navigating.”

“And the others?”

“That one’s for Mr. Jenkins. He’s second in command. And the other one”—Billy pointed to the door farthest away—“Brown an’ Green share it.”

“Really?” Poppy would have thought they’d be down below with the rest of the sailors.

Billy nodded. “They’ve been with the captain the longest. He said he likes to reward loyalty.”

“My goodness,” Poppy said, craning her neck even though there wasn’t much of anything to see. “How positively revolutionary of him.”

“He’s a good man,” Billy said. “The best.”

Poppy supposed it spoke well of Captain James that he inspired such devotion, but honestly, the gushing was getting to be a bit much.

“I’ll come back for the tray in an hour, miss,” Billy said, and with a nod he dashed away and up the stairs.

To freedom.

Poppy gazed longingly at the patch of sunlight. If the light reached the stairwell, didn’t that mean one could see the sky from the bottom of the stairs? Surely it wouldn’t hurt if she took a quick peek. No one would know. According to Billy, only five men had any business in this area of the ship, and they were all presumably at their stations.