She swallowed. And yet he was warm and handsome and actually wasn’t as much of an arse as she’d expected. Even with his military stiffness, he managed to make her laugh at times. True, some of those times were at him, but not all of them.

He’d even helped her at the wheel this morning. And, not that she’d ever admit it if asked, she had enjoyed herself when they’d walked through Nassau together. Plus, he’d been kind to Barnacle—she’d spotted him giving the cat scraps from his plate.

Shaking her head, Vice snorted softly. Best not to think too hard about the surprising aspects of Captain Knigh Blackwood … of Knighton Villiers. Lords, that was—how was he Knighton Villiers?

“Vice is here,” Saba called over her drumming, smile bright, eyes wide. At her side, Perry grinned, fingers and bow dancing over her fiddle’s strings.

A cry of greeting rose, and half a dozen dancers peeled off from the group by the bonfire, swallowing up Vice and Knigh.

Aedan came close. “Bored of the snobs?” He grabbed her free hand. “I’ll show you some real dancing.”

Laughing, Vice released Knigh and let Aedan pull her into a wild spin, sea breeze tugging at her hair, stars and moon circling above. Her heart woke, throbbing hard, and her breaths came fast from his pace. “I need more drink first.”

“Here.” Wynn thrust a bottle in her path. “Not too much, though—you’re going to tell us a story later.”

Vice pulled out of Aedan’s grasp, stumbling to a halt. “Am I now?” She raised an eyebrow and grabbed the bottle, taking a long swig of sweet, burning rum.

“Go on.” Wynn bumped her hip into Vice’s.

“Don’t give us that”—Effie slung her arm around Wynn’s shoulder—“you always do.”

“Maybe.” Vice shrugged and took another draught.

Just beyond Effie, Knigh watched her, eyes golden in the firelight, a small crease between his eyebrows. There was something to his look that made her pause. Want?

“Hmm?” She held the bottle out.

He shook his head.

“Go on, Captain,” Effie said, cocking her head at him, a flirtatious smile lighting her eyes.

“Leave him alone.” Vice withdrew the bottle, frowning at Effie. “If he doesn’t want to drink, he doesn’t have to. I, however, do.” She took another gulp, and it swirled flame in her belly, making her feet itch to move. Eyes squeezed shut for a second, she held out the bottle for anyone who wanted it. “Phew, that stuff’s strong.”

Knigh pursed his lips before he grabbed the bottle from her, upended it and took three long draughts.

What was he—? She shook her head and shrugged.