The Other Miss Bridgerton (Rokesbys #3)(56)

The captain positively snorted with laughter. “I’d wager you’ve already given him a name, a family history, and a tragic backstory.”

Poppy was surprised her mouth didn’t fall open. How did this man know her so well after less than a week at sea?

Captain James leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms in a most satisfied manner. There was something supremely masculine about him as he regarded her, and just like that, poor José was back to having three children and a rabbit.

“Why are you watching me like that?” Poppy said suspiciously.

“Oh, this is the most entertaining thing I’ve seen all day.”

“It’s only half nine,” she muttered.

“My dear Miss Bridgerton,” he continued, “if you wanted to see a man without a shirt, I would have been happy to oblige you.”

Her eyes grew very narrow. “You are a monster.”

“But a lovable one.”

“How does your family put up with you?”

And there was that lethal smile again. “Haven’t you realized I’m endlessly charming?”

“Hmmph.”

“Ask anyone.”

She gave him a look. “I would, except the only person I’ve spoken to all week is Billy.”

“And me,” he pointed out cheerfully.

“You’re hardly an unbiased source.” Neither was Billy, for that matter.

The captain chuckled again as he finally left her side, crossing the cabin to his desk. “Oh, Miss Bridgerton,” he said. “I fervently wish we had not crossed paths in this manner, but if I had to have an inadvertent captive on board, I’m very glad it’s you.”

Poppy could only stare. “Thank you?”

“It’s a compliment,” he assured her as he went about his business at his desk. He used a key to open the top drawer, removed something from his coat pocket, and slid it inside, then shut the drawer again. He locked it, of course. He always locked it.

As Poppy watched him, she finally realized that he was dressed somewhat more formally than normal. He’d donned a waistcoat, for one, and his boots appeared to have been polished. His cravat too was tied with uncharacteristic precision.

“Billy said you left quite early this morning,” she said.

“Indeed I did. Just after sunrise. It enabled me to conduct my business rather quickly.”

Poppy’s mind went to the locked top drawer. “And what business was that?”

“Come now, Miss Bridgerton, you know better than to ask questions I will not answer.”

“Perhaps I hope to catch you in a weak moment.”

“I believe I already caught you in a weak moment this morning.”

She blinked.

“Have you forgotten José so quickly? Ah, the inconstancy of women.”

Poppy rolled her eyes to show him what she thought of that .

He put his hand over his heart. “O, swear not by the moon, th’ inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable .”

Shakespeare? Really?

“Romeo and Juliet ,” he said, as if she wouldn’t have recognized it. “And not in the least bit misquoted.”

Oh, he had no idea who he was up against. She lifted her chin a notch. “Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever; One foot in sea, and one on shore, To one thing constant never .”

He acknowledged her parry with a nod, then said, “I never claimed men were any more constant. And I think you’re making much ado about nothing.”

Poppy was impressed despite herself.

“I know,” he said, correctly interpreting her expression. “I’m ridiculously good at this.”

She quirked a brow. “As am I.”

“I have no doubt.”

Their eyes remained locked in silent battle until the captain said, “I can’t think of another Shakespeare line about inconstancy, can you?”

“Not a one,” she admitted.

They both stood there, trying not to laugh. Finally, the captain gave in. “Oh, Miss Bridgerton”—he drew out the moment by stalking across the room and stopping in front of her with a cat-in-cream smile—“I think you will be very pleased today.”

Her suspicions went on every possible alert. “What do you mean?”

“The weather is especially fine.”

“Yes, I’d gathered as much.” She gave him a patently false smile. “Through the window.”

“But you can’t tell everything through the window. You can see the sun, I suppose, but you can’t feel breeze, you can’t be sure of the temperature.”

Poppy decided to humor him. “Is there a breeze today?”

“Indeed there is.”

“And the temperature?”

“As you can tell from José’s lack of attire, it’s quite pleasantly warm.”

Poppy made a growling sound. Really, he needed to let this go.

“Might I offer advice?” he murmured, leaning in just enough to make the air tingle between them.

“As long as you won’t be offended if I don’t take it.”

“Sheathe your sarcasm, if only for this afternoon. We are friends of a sort, aren’t we?”