“That would be awkward for other reasons. Besides, I am exhausted.”

Rue frowned, trying to see beyond the intense beauty. There it was: the poor thing did look wan, even sickly. Her almond eyes were bloodshot, her skin drawn.

Miss Sekhmet took a small steadying breath, then asked, “Is the muhjah aware of the activities here?”

Rue nodded. Her mother had, after all, sampled the tea. Still it was an odd thing to bring up.

Miss Sekhmet stayed on the subject. “She approves?”

Rue nodded seriously. Tea was a serious business.

Miss Sekhmet shook her head. “But it is such an imbalance.”

She must be alluding to the smokiness of the blend. “The muhjah is very advanced in her tastes. There will be mixing.”

The woman’s thick eyebrows arched in shock. No wonder that, for Lapsang-style teas were thought beyond the British palate. Only recently had they become accepted in the best drawing rooms, and even then it had been confined to Chinese imports. This woman, even if she were the proprietor of a very respectable tea export business interested in cutting out Dama’s interests, would not yet be privy to such information.

“Very well. As a gesture of good faith, we are prepared to negotiate with you in parental absentia. And even that concession took all of my persuasive power. Tread carefully, skin-stalker.”

Rue nodded. “Anything else?”

“If you could wear a recognisable colour?”

Rue considered both her and Prim’s wardrobes. “Purple, I think.”

“Very well. That is all.”

Rue nodded to Spoo and Virgil. “Let her go.”

“But, Lady Captain!” protested Spoo.

“Can’t we keep her?” Virgil wanted to know. “She’s so pretty.” As if she were a stray cat.

“Virgil, don’t be rude,” remonstrated Rue.

Reluctantly, the two relinquished the woman’s legs. Miss Sekhmet stood gingerly, then stretched slightly as if working out Spoo-induced kinks. She made a polite little bow to all three and then hurried at an indecently eager pace off The Spotted Custard.

Rue considered. “I think, my dear Spoo, you might activate the gangplank drawback mechanism. No more unexpected visitors today. Do you concur?”

Spoo snapped to attention. “Yes, Lady Captain.” And went to round up the necessary decklings to assist her in this task.

“Virgil?”

“Yes, Lady Captain?”

“Keep an eye to the accessories, please. There may be a lioness around with a taste for parasols.”

“Is that some kind of code, Lady Captain?”

“My dear young man, I only wish it were.” With which Rue returned to her nap and dreamed of cold tea.

CHAPTER EIGHT

IN WHICH PERCY ENCOUNTERS A PEPPER