“Ah”—Vice raised a hand and dropped the last of the petticoats—“she knows what I look like as a pirate.” She hooked her toe into the petticoat and kicked it up to her hand, brandishing it with a grin. “She’s never seen me in the lady getup.”

“That’s still a risk—”

“A calculated one.”

Perry cleared her throat. “You risked all that and went and spoke to the very pirate hunter who’s here to capture you and make you see justice. Need I remind you, Albion’s idea of justice for piracy involves an appointment with the hangman?” With strong, calloused hands, she turned Vice around and pulled the bow securing the stiff stays. “He’s undoubtedly seen sketches of you and read descriptions.”

Vice shrugged, breath easing from her chest into her belly as the stays loosened. She’d been wearing gloves, so there’d been no way he’d have seen the scar on her palm, and that was her most recognisable feature.

“You did all this,” Perry went on, the cord whipping in her hands as she pulled it from the eyelets, “and your great insight is that he’s a strong young man in his prime who’s easily fooled by a pretty face? I’d call that an achievement if not for the fact it describes half the bloody Navy.”

Vice examined her nails, cleaning a smear of leaf-green from under one. That wasn’t everything. Perry was selling her short. “You missed out the bit where I wore Miss deLacy’s stolen gown in front of her at the very ball she’d bought it for.”

“Vice!” Perry said with such a forceful yank on the cord, Vice stumbled.

“Look, Perry”—she spread her hands to placate her—“all I’m saying is that he was stunningly easy to trick. I have no concerns whatsoever that he’ll be any trouble to us unless we do something spectacularly stupid and let him get the upper hand. Even then, I’d put my money on us over him.” She shrugged. “Gods, I’d even bet we could take the ship from under his feet before he caught on.”

And what a pretty ship it was. Prime rover gear, that. She pulled the stays off, leaving just a chemise.

A vessel like that would serve her well. “Hmm.”

“Ay-viss,” Perry said slowly, drawing out the two syllables.

Avice. It shot through her, as sure as a pistol at point-blank range. Vice grimaced and clenched her jaw. “Don’t say that name.”

“Sometimes it’s the only way to get through to you.”

Vice turned, folding her arms and scowling. But she couldn’t keep the expression in place, not with the idea of taking the Venatrix burrowing through her mind.

Perry narrowed her eyes. “What are you thinking? Whatever it is—no. Definitely not.”