He had only known her for a bit over a day, and he could already admit he was besotted. He wouldn’t act on it; it wouldn’t be fair, given the inequity of their relationship already. If he approached her for anything beyond their current bargain, she might feel pressured to agree. Although he imagined she could take care of herself, but he wouldn’t want her to have to, at least in regard to him. Lesser men would pester women, not understanding that a woman, especially a lady, had little recourse in that kind of situation. A hat pin was likely the most defense a lady could muster, and he’d seen what kind of result that had achieved.

But he would take her up on anything she might offer.

“And now?” she said, her tone returning to its imperious mien. “If you’re done purchasing extravagant jewelry beyond what is required for this subterfuge, shouldn’t we start looking for Mr. Wattings?”

He grinned at her. So she had felt it too. That was why she was being more than unusually prickly at the moment.

“Of course, my lady. As it happens,” he said, quickening his steps, feeling as she scurried beside him, “I need to locate my first mate. The last I saw of him was at that pub.”

“The one where you got arrested?” she asked pointedly. “The sleeping man?”

“Yes, that one.”

“And will this be in pursuit of our goal of locating Mr. Wattings?”

Griffith nodded as he thought it out. “Clark will be less conspicuous than me. He can ask questions about where Wattings might have gone to.”

“I want to go. I want to ask questions.”

Griffith suppressed an urge to shake her. He knew he was stubborn, but Lady Della made him seem almost accommodating. Which he absolutely was not. “You, as you might have noticed when you came to the docks, are entirely conspicuous. Do you think anyone would answer your questions?” He raised his brow as he looked her up and down. “Never mind your person would be in danger. Sailors and the like are not accustomed to seeing anyone or anything nearly as beautiful as you.”

Her eyes widened. In shock? Did she not know she was beautiful? Or more likely because it was him saying it?

And then her mouth flattened, and he saw as she marshaled her Della forces to deliver him some sort of crushing verbal blow.

“But I can see it is important to you,” he continued. “And I did promise. So we will have to find you a disguise. Something to hide all of—” And then he gestured vaguely toward her so she wouldn’t know if it was her face or her figure he thought needed disguising.

She looked as though now she didn’t know how to respond, and he felt a moment of glee inside at having rousted her so thoroughly.