The Other Miss Bridgerton (Rokesbys #3)(87)

He didn’t say anything.

“Andrew, you can’t expect me to deliver a message when I don’t know what it means.”

He started tucking his shirt into his breeches. “I do it all the time.”

“What? ”

He shot her a glance over his shoulder. “Do you think I know what was in the packet of papers I gave to the British envoy yesterday?”

Her mouth fell open. “That’s what you—”

“Do you think I ever know?” He started pulling on his boots, and Poppy could only stare. How could he act as if all of this was normal ?

“How often do you do this?” she asked.

“Often enough.”

“And you’re not curious?”

He’d been tying his cravat, his fingers expertly looping and tucking the fabric. But at this he went still. “My job—no, my duty—is to transport documents and carry messages. Why do you think I could not delay our departure for Portugal? It wasn’t about me . It was never about me.”

He had to deliver a message. He was working for the government. Poppy’s brain was spinning. Everything was starting to make sense.

“This is how I serve my country,” he said. “It is what you must do, as well.”

“You’re telling me that I am somehow doing a service to the crown by telling a man I’ve never met that I long for blue skies?”

He looked her straight in the eye. “Yes.”

“I . . .” She looked down. She was wringing her hands. She hadn’t realized it.

“Poppy?”

She let out a long breath. “I will do as you ask. But I must warn you. I don’t think I will be able to lead him back. I’m sure I will be blindfolded again when they take me back to the ship.”

“You won’t need to. When you are released you’ll be given some sort of message from the men holding us. Give it to Mr. Walpole. He will know what to do from there.”

“And then what will I do?”

“Keep yourself safe.”

Poppy felt her jaw clamp into a rigid vise. It was not in her nature to sit idly by when she could be helpful, but in such a situation, she had to wonder—could she be helpful? Or would she just get in the way?

“Do not do something stupid, Poppy,” he warned. “As God is my witness—”

“I can barely fire a rifle,” she said testily. “I’m not going to come swishing back with delusions of saving you myself.”

He smiled a bit at that.

“What?”

“I’m just imagining you swishing. I’m not sure what it is.”

She glared at him.

“Listen to me.” He took her hand. “I appreciate your concern more than I could ever say. And without you—without your going to see the envoy—my situation would be very bleak. But you must not do more than that.”

“I know,” she mumbled. “I would be in the way.”

He did not contradict her. She had kind of hoped he would.

“Poppy,” he said, his voice urgent, “I—”

They both froze at the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs. Their captors were coming back, earlier than they’d expected.

Andrew dropped her hand and took a step back. His demeanor changed, as if his every muscle had been put on alert. His eyes darted to the door, and then to Poppy, then did a quick sweep of the room before landing on her little half boots, on their sides by the table where she’d kicked them off hours before. He scooped them up and handed them to her. “Put them on.”

She did. Quickly.

The footsteps drew close, followed by the sound of a key being inserted into the look.

Poppy turned to Andrew. She was terrified. More than she’d been throughout the entire ordeal.

“I will get out of here,” he vowed, even as the doorknob made an ominous turn. “And I will find you.”

And then all Poppy could do was pray.



In the end, it was simple. Terrifying, but simple. Minutes after the bandits came back, Poppy was blindfolded and returned to the Infinity . The journey took no more than a quarter of an hour; it seemed Andrew had been right about their circuitous route the day before.

It was still dark when she reached the ship, but the deck was already teeming with sailors, more than Poppy would have expected so early in the morning. But this was no ordinary morning. Their captain had been taken prisoner, and they had to be ready for anything.

The first person she saw was Green, which was fortunate, since he was one of only three people on board she actually knew. He and Brown insisted upon escorting her to the address Andrew had provided, and after a quick check on Billy, who was still groggy but otherwise recuperating, Poppy headed back out into the city.

“D’you think they’re watching us?” Brown asked, his bushy brows drawing down as he flicked his eyes from one side of the street to the other. The sun had only just come up, the pinkish light cast a mysterious air over the city.

“Probably,” Poppy said. “Captain James told them that I would need to meet with someone to secure the funds. So they’re not expecting me to remain on board.”

“I don’t like it,” Brown muttered.

Neither did Poppy, but she didn’t see how she had a choice.