“Leniency?” Collins sneered. “Could that be the voice of guilt speaking?”

Dare took his hat and cane and with an effort, shoved neither article down his odious brother-in-law’s throat. “I have no guilt whatsoever concerning my cousin, but you may rest easy that I don’t take being called out lightly. I have men looking into the circumstances of Geoffrey’s adventure six years ago and will soon discover just who is responsible. If there is nothing else, I will take my leave. I’ve lost quite a bit of time on my engine, and must return home to install a new steam cylinder. I shall give your regards to Charlotte.”

Lord Collins looked as if he wanted to say something more, but Dare wasn’t in the mood to be baited. He’d put up with enough of that from his cousin; he had no intention on debating the finer points on the doorstep of White’s with his brother-in-law.

With a dashing left-handed twirl of his cane, he marched down the steps and into his waiting carriage, Batsfoam in tow.

“Home, John,” he called to the coachman as he waved Batsfoam inside the carriage. “Sit down, man, I have a few things I want to say and I can’t yell them out the window to you. First off, tell me what Johnson said about the cylinder.”

Batsfoam duly reported the details of the blacksmith’s examination of the damaged cylinder, and suggestions for strengthening it. Dare filed the information away for future use, then turned the conversation to the subject that was uppermost in his mind. “As you probably gathered, I have a dawn appointment tomorrow.”

Batsfoam eyed Dare’s wounded arm openly. “In that case, sir, I would say it’s a very good thing you favor your left hand.”

Dare was astonished. “That’s all you’re going to say? You’re not going to give me a ten-minute lecture that alternately praises me to the sky while simultaneously pointing out that it would be the purest folly to honor a duel when I have only one working arm and eye? You’re not going to go into a five-minute soliloquy on how difficult it will be for you and your wounded limb to find a new employer once I’m killed? You’re not going to bring up all those many times when we were in the 12th Light when I told you not to take foolish chances and that it was absurd to be chasing death when he was only too willing to claim us? You’re not going to say any of that, you’re just going to tell me it’s good I’m left-handed? Is that it, Batsfoam? That’s all?”

Batsfoam smiled in a manner that on any other man Dare would have termed a grin. “I have no need to say all that, sir, you just did.”

“I could still let you go, you know.”

“But you won’t,” Batsfoam answered with a complacency that amused Dare. “You have need of me, at least until your engine is finished, for you yourself have said that no one else has quite the hand I do in drawing up the specifications.”