Well, Batsfoam had him there. He leaned back against the soft cushions and with a concerted effort, managed to pull his bad arm up so his hand rested on his thigh. “We’ll take your continued employment as a given. Now, as to this other affair, naturally it is to be kept from my wife.”

“Naturally,” Batsfoam agreed.

“And when she finds out about it, as she is sure to do since she is a woman and women always find out about a man’s dawn appointments no matter how hard we try to keep it from them, you will do your utmost to convince her that the appointment is for the following day.”

“I shall endeavor to put all my acting skills into a performance guaranteed to lead Lady Charlotte into believing that, sir.”

“Excellent. Now, when we get home, I have several tasks for you on the engine. First, you’ll need to test the condenser…” Dare spent the next few minutes happily detailing what he wanted done that afternoon.

Batsfoam heard him out, then leveled a steady, dark-eyed gaze at him, speaking with the intimacy of one man who’s seen another through a near-fatal situation. “I don’t suppose there’s any use in pointing out what will happen if the morning does not go as you expect?”

Dare’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t an unusually foolish man, he’d stared death in the face once or twice, and although he had recently sought the obsidian…oblivion—Lord, now he was thinking like Charlotte!—that death brought, he knew now that he never would have gone through with it. Just the thought of Charlotte filled him with a warmth and happiness he had only dreamt of. The vision of her lying in his bed, hair delightfully mussed, her eyes drowsy and sated, the gentle perfume of a well-loved woman teasing his nose came immediately to mind, making his fingers twitch with the desire to stroke her silky skin. She was his, every last square inch of her bound so tightly around his heart that he couldn’t begin to separate her soul from his. No, death held no charms for him. He was too much in love with his wife, too fond of living to court death.

“Which doesn’t explain why I’m so happy to meet my cousin over a pair of pistols, eh?” he asked aloud. Batsfoam was evidently thinking along the same lines, for he didn’t look the least bit puzzled by the comment and just inclined his head in agreement.

“You seem to be singularly unconcerned about the event, which is not what I’d expect from a man with only one working eye as he faces a duel upon the morn.”

Dare allowed himself a smile. “The truth is…well, as my wife would say, all that flitters is not gold.”

Batsfoam raised his eyebrows. Dare’s smile deepened into a cheeky grin.

Life really was looking remarkably good.

***

“I’m in hell, aren’t I? I’ve died and gone to hell and no one bothered to inform me.”