Page 46 of All is Fair in Love
Poppy shook her head. No. She would not look at him. The boat was much more interesting. She kept her gaze steady.
Francis let out a sigh. “Alright, let’s not discuss my eyes or your ears. And since you are so keen to study your own ship, how about you explain its provenance. I have honestly never set eyes on such a vessel before.”
She risked a sideways glance in his direction, catching the grin on his face.
He isn’t just being polite.
“She is modelled on the original ship the Shtandart, which was the flagship of the Imperial Russian Navy. Tsar Peter first commissioned it in seventeen hundred and three—hence the date on the masthead. They were raising it out of the water to do a refit twenty-odd years later but the cables they were using accidently cut the hull in two. The ship was so badly damaged that it was decided it was easier to break her up. They were supposed to have built a replacement, but that never happened.”
“So how did you end up with a copy of the ship?” he replied.
There was an unmistakable glint of interest in his voice. Poppy loved it whenever someone asked her this question; she could talk about the Empress Catherine for hours. Wax lyrically about the ship’s statistics, mention how much cargo it could carry, and how well it sat in the water.
“I found some of the original plans for her in a chandler’s shop in the Port of Civitavecchia, Italy. I was fourteen and immediately captivated by its design. My father commissioned the Empress Catherine, and I became captain of her the day I turned eighteen.”
She could continue to talk about her ship, but when it came to Francis, Poppy decided she would much rather show him.
Drawing her legs back up to the wharf, Poppy scrambled to her feet. “Come, Mister Saunders. Let me show you around my boat.”
It was an innocent enough offer, but the way the words came out made it sound more alluring than Poppy had intended. Dare she say, sexual?
Francis scowled. “Are you sure? I mean, what would Jonathan say to you inviting a man on board your ship? He clearly didn’t like finding me with you in the warehouse. I don’t want to get you into any sort of trouble.”
Poppy didn’t give a damn what Jonathan thought. The Empress Catherine was her vessel; she could do with it as she pleased.
But if you marry him, it will be his.
Her future intended had shown an ugly side of himself this morning, one which only added to her growing unease. Every encounter with him pushed her closer to what was fast becoming an easy decision.
“Jonathan has no say over me. No rights to claim. I am the captain of the Empress Catherine, and I decide who comes on board my boat.” Even to her own ears, Poppy’s voice held the weight of authority and defiance.
How dare Jonathan think he can demand money from me and that I will simply comply?
This morning was the first and the last time he would ever speak to her in such a disrespectful manner. He had shown his true colors. Now it was time to draw a line in the sand.
Poppy held out her hand. A grinning Francis waved her hand away. “I can manage.”
With startling speed, he leapt to his feet, and Poppy took a hurried step back. For a tall man, Francis was surprisingly agile.
“Lead on, Captain Basden,” he said.
Unlike Jonathan, there was clear respect in the way Francis said captain.
As Poppy headed toward the gangplank, with Francis close on her heels, a flicker of something lit within her. This could be the beginning of a friendship. One that might come to be important to them both in the future.
Don’t be silly. You are clutching at straws yet again. People like Francis Saunders don’t make real friendships with people like me.
Making peace with the neighbors made good business sense. And if Jonathan’s information was correct, then of course it was in Francis’s best interests to keep things sweet with her.
What he would say if he discovered that she had also put in a bid for the spice contract, Poppy didn’t wish to consider.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Francis had to admit that following Poppy as she made her way up the gangplank was the highlight of his day. She hadn’t bothered with a coat, which meant he was granted a pleasurable view of her swaying hips as she climbed onboard the Empress Catherine.
He licked his lips as he took in the sight, imagining the secret delights which were hidden by her dark grey skirt and trousers. The color of her garments might be dull, but they did little to dampen the wicked images which popped into his mind.
“Welcome aboard the Empress Catherine, Francis,” announced Poppy.
