“In the Texican Territory.” Lady Dunsmuir could not seem to wrap her mind around the astounding news as she pressed the smelling salts into Claire’s hand yet again. “Lord James Selwyn is pursuing you to the Americas to press his suit? I cannot comprehend it. It is either utter devotion or sheer madness.”
Claire put the smelling salts firmly on the table. She was quite recovered. Embarrassed, yes. Determined not to lace her corset quite so tightly in future, yes. But quite recovered physically, thank you very much.
Mentally, she was struggling with how much of the truth she should reveal to Lady Dunsmuir. For Andrew’s message had told her that James had reneged on his agreement with Ross Stephenson and his railroad, absconding instead with the Selwyn Kinetick Carbonator they had invented, with plans to sell it to a Texican consortium.
It was the act of a scoundrel, not a gentleman. But though she trusted Andrew’s word, she could not condemn a baronet in the eyes of his peers without physical proof. And how she was to lay hands upon that in all this vast country was a conundrum.
“It is not solely devotion that has brought him so far. Andrew Malvern—my erstwhile employer in the laboratory—was Lord James’s partner in his railroad ventures. James was in the midst of negotiations with the Midlands Railway Company, but it appears he has broken those off to come here with a group of Texican railway barons. Andrew has—has set out to bring him back. But my goodness, the Americas are enormous. How will he discover them?”
Dear me. She was skating dangerously close to the shameful truth. In a moment she was going to trip over her own tale. Because really, James did not deserve her protection. He had acted like a criminal, so he should face up to the consequences. It was a dreadful pity her upbringing would not allow her to be the instrument of it.
Because what if Andrew was wrong, or had misunderstood? Then she would have shamed a baronet publicly in error, and the consequences would be on her own head.
“If he does not find you in New York, I imagine his business will take him to Santa Fe.” The earl shook a map out of a brass tube and unrolled it on the low table in front of the sofa. “New York and Philadelphia—” He pointed to the two largest cities of the Fifteen Colonies on the eastern seaboard. “—are where the railroad barons have begun building mansions, but if this is a group of Texicans interested in a business arrangement with a man of vision such as James, they’ll be in Santa Fe.” He indicated a dot in the middle of a large area marked Texican Territory and colored a faded red. “That’s the capital of a territory that runs from the border of the Canadas all the way down to Texico City.” His finger slid from one edge of the map to the other.
“But we will no doubt meet in New York,” Lady Dunsmuir said. “That is the entry point for the Americas—not to mention the only airfield on the entire coast capable of handling the traffic. They must receive traveling papers for these skies. And of course they must take on kerosene for their engines, and supplies and the like.”
Claire fingered the letter in the pocket of her skirt. “Andrew’s message was dated the day we left London. Do you suppose we shall arrive at the same time?” What a joy it would be to see his familiar face—and to find out if, perhaps, she might assist him in his mission. After all, as he had said, that power cell was hers and the children’s, no matter whose name was on the patent. If anyone was going to profit by the sale of it, it should be them, not James.
On the other hand, she had gone to great lengths to remove herself from James’s orbit, where he could not touch her or force her to be his wife. She must continue on with the Dunsmuirs to the Canadas, as planned, far from Santa Fe. Andrew Malvern was perfectly capable of managing on his own.
“No telling if we’ll arrive before or after Persephone,” his lordship said. “We haven’t been pushing the ship or attempting any speed records. Captain Hollys has been holding us back because of the hurricane.”
All four children looked up. “Hurricane?” Lizzie said. “Wot’s that?”
“You know how the water behaves when you pull the drain plug in the tub?” Lady Dunsmuir asked. When Lizzie nodded, she said, “Imagine the water is air and we a very tiny rubber duck, and you have a hurricane, more or less. It’s an enormous storm that spells disaster for any zeppelin. We are forced to stay well clear of it.”
“This rubber duck is going to stay far north of their brewing grounds in the Bermudas and the southernmost of the Fifteen, you may be assured of that,” said Captain Hollys, entering the room in time to hear. “My lord, might I have a word?”
“What is it, Ian?”
The captain kept his gaze on his employer. “In private.”
“Good heavens. If you and Jack have been gambling again, I’m not advancing your wages.”
“It’s not that, sir.” The gravity of his tone and the absence of a smile caused a flicker of unease to dart through Claire’s stomach. The two men stepped into the corridor and Lady Dunsmuir distracted the children by pulling out the Chinese checkerboard and a fat bag of marbles.
Most of the children. Not all.
Claire caught Lizzie’s eye and glanced toward the door. Lizzie got up and drifted toward the serving pantry, aimless as a cloud and harmless as a dove.
They had already discovered the pantry contained three doors, one of which led into the corridor. There was even a dumb waiter apparatus to transport food from the galley below on B deck to the dining saloon. The fact that it transmitted sound as efficiently as it did filet of sole and steamed vegetables was an advantage, if you had an interest in gathering as much information about the goings-on among the crew as you could.
Lizzie, Claire knew, had quite an interest.
In fact, she must ask her to find out about these rocket packs as soon as possible.
When Lady Dunsmuir and Willie later retired to their cabin for afternoon naps, Lizzie and Maggie appeared in Claire’s own doorway with eyes that told her they had news. Claire ushered them in and removed Rosie from Maggie’s shoulder, setting her on the nightstand with a saucer of water.
“Well?”
“I didn’t understand most of it, Lady.” She exchanged a wordless glance with her sister. “Wot’s diversionary tactic and circumnavigate?”
“The first is a dodge and the second a runaround.”
“Ah. Then that’s wot Cap’n Hollys wants to do.”
“Why? Is he dodging the storm?”
“Not only. Seems there’s a ship off our stern that’s been behavin’ badly. Captain don’t like it.”
“They’re probably doing the same as we are—avoiding the storm.”
“That’s wot ’is lordship said. But Cap’n don’t think so. ’E thinks it’s pirates, Lady.”
“Pirates!” She had heard of them, of course. Wherever there was wealth in transit, it seemed, there were those who wanted to skim off a little for themselves. To take rather than earn. But the Lady Lucy had been plying the skies for years. Surely Captain Hollys knew what to do.
“So ’e says, Lady. We ent near so high as we were off the Azores—and we’ll make landfall tonight, ’e says. Just not in New York.”
“How did we not know of this?”
“They think we’re just girls,” Maggie said with scorn. “Ent no pirate ’alf as nasty as the Cudgel, I’ll bet—you put paid to ’im an’ you’re a girl.”
“But Maggie, that was with the assistance of the lightning rifle. I can’t use that aboard ship. An inch too close to the fuselage and we’ll go up in an explosion they’ll see all the way to New York.”
Lizzie sat on Claire’s bunk and tucked her feet up under her dress. “I knew I should’ve stayed wiv Lewis and the others.”
“We must consult with Jake tonight when the family is asleep,” Claire said after a moment’s thought. “He’s been in the gondola, so he must know what’s going on. In the meantime, pack your kit and let Tigg know, too.”
“Pack?” Maggie repeated. “Wot for?”
“Just in case.”
“Lady, you don’t think the ship’ll go down?” Lizzie’s eyes grew huge.
“Of course not. Captain Hollys is an experienced airman and our waiters in white gloves have an air of competence that suggests they know more than merely which side to serve on. But it does not hurt to be prepared.”
Lizzie looked as though she wanted to ask what she was to be prepared for, but she did not.
When they found him in the dining saloon some hours later, Jake did not have much more to tell them. “We’re way north of New York now,” he reported, wolfing down a cream-filled biscuit. “Dodgin’ that ship and waitin’ for the storm to pass over New York. Can’t moor till it blows itself out.”
“I saw the cloud bank as the sun went down,” Claire said. “I’ve never been in the sky to see a storm before. It’s much more frightening up here than it would be tucked up in a warm library.”
“Captain plans to circle around and come at New York from the west.” Jake mumbled something else and stuffed a plum in his mouth whole.
“What was that, Jake?”
“Nuffink.”
“I quite distinctly heard you say something about fuel.”
“We’d ’ave enough if we’d just quit this dodgin’ and backtrackin’ and fire something at those rascals.”
Claire’s stomach did a dip and twirl that had nothing to do with the ship’s trim. “So let me understand you correctly. We are not only illegally flying in American air space, we are the target of sky pirates and are running out of fuel. Would you say that was accurate?”
“Lady Claire.”
She choked on a scone covered in cream and turned to see the earl not six feet away. “Your lordship,” she said when she could speak. “What are you doing here?”
“I hope you do not expect me to sleep while my family and guests are in—” He stopped.
“Danger?”
“We are in no danger at present.”
“But we could be, if that ship gets down to business and our engines give out.”
He eyed her. “You are singularly well informed, though I would appreciate it if you would not say such things in front of the children.”
“The children are my source of information.”
He selected a scone and slathered cream on it while he recovered. “They are mistaken.”
“Aren’t!” Lizzie lifted her chin, affronted. “I ’eard the captain tell you so meself.”
“Then you should know that eavesdropping is most unladylike.”
“So is takin’ a stone to a knife fight.” Her tone dripped with scorn. “I don’t aim to carry stones if I can ’elp it. I aim to be prepared.”
He regarded her with raised brows. “I see I have underestimated you, young lady.”
“If I were to wager who would succeed in a contretemps with sky pirates, my lord, I would put my money on Lizzie,” Claire told him. “We do not mean to displease you, but any of these children will tell you that the secret to beating a bully is to be ready for him. That is all we are trying to do.”
“I hope it does not come to that. Both vessels are struggling with the storm, which has pushed us far off our course. We have evaded miscreants before with success, and shall do so again, I trust.”
It was a thin comfort, but it was all she had to keep warm with during that fitful night.
That and her raiding rig. If one were to face danger, it would certainly not be in a nightgown.