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“I AM VERY DISAPPOINTED in you, Shar Lucas! Extremely disappointed!” Wilhelmina lectured her captor as they boarded The Dashing Lady. “I always believed you were a kind man who appreciated his position with the Bennets. Well, not only have you proven me wrong, you have proven me wrong in the worst possible way... with a gun to my back!”
Shar was silent as he led her up the gangplank. Gladys and Kier were trailing behind him, and as soon as they boarded, Gladys gave a nod to their new helmswoman, who lifted off with haste. They were too close to Rosings, and if Lady Catherine learned of her engineer's abduction, she would surely want revenge.
“I am disappointed in you as well, cousin!” Wilhelmina directed her next lecture to Kier Bennet. “I never thought you would form an alliance with a pirate... and with Georgette Wickham, of all people! She is the sworn enemy of the great Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who happens to be your brother's wife's aunt! Would you really oppose a member of your own family?”
“I wouldn't refer to Lady Catherine as family,” Kier objected—and with good reason. It was Lady Catherine who had banished him to Longbourn. “Our familial connection to that woman is scarce, at best.”
“Still... pirates?” Wilhelmina shrieked. When she had her first glimpse of Wickham, standing on the bow, she shrieked again. “You have aligned yourself with questionable companions. I have every right to be disappointed!”
“Oh... quiet down, you mad bat!” Georgette exclaimed. “It isn't as if your cousin buried a knife in your back. But if he did, I honestly wouldn't blame him. A mouth like yours would drive anyone to madness!”
“You better be kind to me!” Wilhelmina tore off her gloves and slammed them on the deck, not far from Georgette's boots. “Mr. Lucas said you needed my genius to complete some sort of superweapon?”
“Aye. A supercannon.” As she unrolled her blueprint, Georgette nibbled her lip. She couldn't tell Wilhelmina how she planned to use her new weapon. If Miss Collins knew she intended to blow Rosings to bits, she would probably accept death before agreeing to assist. For unfathomable reasons, the captured engineer had tremendous love for the pompous old lady.
“Hmm...” Wilhelmina tapped her chin as she leaned over the paper. “This is some sort of... extra powerful cannon?”
“Aye,” Georgette said again. “Would it be possible to make something like this?”
“Possible, yes. Probable... not likely.” Wilhelmina's fingers continued to flutter around her chin as she studied Wickham's design. “I would have to make some minor adjustments. And, of course, you would need a lot of money to buy these parts.” When she glanced at Georgette, Wilhelmina's eyes were dull. “Are you in possession of a great deal of money, Captain Wickham?”
“No. We just lost our old airship... and everything in it. I'm actually rather poor.” As she confessed to her destitution, Wickham's smile fell from her face.
“Well, if you really want me to construct this for you... which, by the way, I would rather not do... but seeing as I have a gun to my back...” As Miss Collins muttered, she directed a glare at Shar. Ever since they boarded the airship, his pistol's barrel followed her. “Anyhow, as I was saying, you will need a great deal of money.”
“How much?”
Wilhelmina was straight-lipped as she made an estimate. “I would say... ten thousand pounds.”
“Ten thousand pounds?” Georgette gasped. The number was so high, she wavered on her feet. “How in goddess' name am I supposed to get money like that?”
“Um... captain?” It was Gladys who spoke. While she was hardly thrilled by the thought of Wilhelmina taking a job that should have been hers, her captain needed help, and Gladys was full of ideas.
“What is it, Gladys?”
“I know how to get ten thousands pounds.” Gladys glanced at Shar, remembered he was too beautiful to look at, and quickly glanced away. With a shrug, she finished, “We do what pirates do, Captain. We steal it.”
* * *
“Gladys to Shar Lucas... Gladys to Shar Lucas... can you hear me?” Gladys hissed into the teletalk. The ball was such a crush, it was difficult to find a safe place to speak to him. She hid behind a pillar in the darkest corner of the assembly room and tried to make contact with her favorite stable boy. When he didn't respond, she wondered if he could hear her over the constant symphony of strings that filled the room. After a minute or two, she tried again. “Shar Lucas? Are you out there? Can you hear me?”
At long last, she heard his voice. “Yes. I hear you.”
At Wickham's request, Gladys and Shar had infiltrated the soiree with secret identities. For one night only, they were the Duchess and Duke of Dundleberry. Gladys had even introduced herself as the Duchess to several members of the peerage, and no one ever questioned her.
“I just finished a game of poker. At first, the ladies were reluctant to let me join. I had to earn their respect.” He glanced across the room, where his six companions were shuffling cards and prattling.
“Did you win anything?”
“I did. Ten pounds,” Shar said. “And then I lost eight pounds... but then I won twenty.”
“So that means you have... twenty-two pounds?” Gladys groaned into the teletalk. “Shar, we need ten thousands pounds. At the rate you're going, you'll never make that much. You'd sooner fall in love with the queen of hearts!”
“Perhaps I can convince them to raise the stakes?”
“Perhaps,” Gladys agreed, though she didn't have much hope.
“What about you? Have you acquired any money?” One of the card players was smiling at him, so Shar flashed a disarming grin. They only let him play because they thought he was handsome—and he knew it.
“Not any money, no. But I have pocketed a couple of rings and necklaces. I have no idea if they're valuable, though. We need a zzzzzrt.”
Shar's eyebrows shot up at the alarming hiss of static. “Gladys! Did I lose you?”
“No. Still here,” the engineer replied. “Alright... as I was sayin', we need a plan. Do you have one?
“Not yet.”
“Well, we need one. If we don't return with at least a few thousand pounds, Georgette'll be livid.”
“I'll... play more cards,” Shar decided. “Just keep doing what you've been doing, and perhaps we'll have a decent haul by the night's end?”
“I doubt it.” Gladys left him with the pessimistic words as her finger slid from the teletalk's red button. With a heavy sigh, she went to speak to a widowed duchess named Dorothea, who wouldn't stop talking about Gladys' handsome husband.
“Honestly, my dear, how did you land such a catch?” Dorothea asked. “When I first laid eyes on him, your Duke of Dundleberry positively stole my breath away! Have you ever seen a more handsome man?”
“No,” Gladys croaked. Her fists clenched as she listened to the lady's love for Shar. He was well above Gladys' reach, and she needed no reminder. “I might be a bit biased, though. He's my husband, after all.”
“No. It is not bias. You are only being honest,” Dorothea said. “Oh! And there is the Duchess of Burgundy! She's looking very fine this evening. I shall have to introduce you!”
Dorothea escorted Gladys to the tall, red-haired duchess, whose long nose resembled a bird's beak. After initial introductions were made, Gladys soon lost interest in the ladies' conversation. They gossiped about people she didn't know—and she didn't care to know them, unless they were rich.
Finally, Dorothea shared a piece of information that piqued Gladys' interest.
“Have either of you seen Lady Rosedale's ruby?” the widow asked. Lady Rosedale was the ball's well-to-do host, and she was supposedly one of the richest women in London. “They keep it in the study. It is supposedly one of the largest in the world, if not the largest!”
“Truly?” The Duchess of Burgundy feigned interest and concealed a yawn behind her hand. “That's fascinating.”
“And yet, you hardly sound fascinated!” her peer accused her.
“Perhaps not,” the duchess confessed. “I have never been a huge fan of shiny rocks and baubles.”
Gladys, however, was more than interested. She returned to the corner of the room, slipped behind her pillar, and reported to Shar.
“Shar!” Gladys shouted into the teletalk. “Shar, are you there? Shar!”
A moment later, his whispering voice answered, “I'm the middle of a game, Miss McCracken. Can it not wait?”
“No. It can't. Stop your game. Immediately,” Gladys requested. “Meet me in the study. I think we might find something of interest.”