Rue arched an eyebrow. “Good question. I shall bring it up with my family as soon as I get home.”

“In the meantime, would you consider some form of projectile weapon? For my peace of mind, mon petit chou?”

Rue said, “The difficulty is in how to keep it with me if I change shape.”

“Rue.” He almost growled her name.

“Fine,” said Rue. “I’ll consider it.”

“That’s all I ask.” With which he made to leave.

Rue forestalled him, “And have you been considering my offer? It’s nothing important, you do realise? It was only a thought.”

He actually winced at that, which hurt in a way she hadn’t anticipated. Rue had thought she had presented him with an opportunity, but perhaps he saw it as a burden. Perhaps he had always seen her as nothing more than a meaningless flirtation and now she had placed him in an awkward position, as her chief engineer.

But his charm returned in an instant. “It is a gift, mon petit chou, and it is important.”

Rue stumbled on, “But if it’s too much a bother, I could seek elsewhere.”

Quesnel’s face shuttered over. “You must do as you see fit, chérie.” Which, of course, was no answer at all. He gave her a small bow and retreated to his own quarters without even trying to touch her.

Rue thought she saw a flicker of movement in the doorway of Percy’s room but wasn’t certain. Percy would already be occupied with his research. Perhaps Virgil was being nosy? Hard to keep one’s business private on an airship. She and Quesnel would have to be more careful about assignations in future.

Rue caught herself out with that. Future assignations indeed! He hasn’t even considered my terms. He had taken Prim’s arm as they walked that morning. And he’d been very taken by Miss Sekhmet. Clearly, she had overblown his flirting, and her own appeal.

He must be regretting last night’s embrace. In which case, Rue was back to square one as far as romance was concerned. It was a lot more painful than she had anticipated, rejection.

Rue retired to her room to stare up at the ceiling and, in order to not dwell on a certain flirtatious French engineer, tried to think about who might have a grudge against Indian vampires. Which was the problem with vampires – almost everyone had a grudge against them.

CHAPTER TEN

VANARA

Rue was wearing an old-fashioned skirt of lilac satin, mismatched to a bodice of burgundy velvet with elaborate beadwork about the neck. It was heavy for the weather and hugely inappropriate to Rue’s rank.

“Goodness, chérie, you look like a lady of the night,” was Quesnel’s assessment. But his eyes were delighted and not at all critical as he took in her very well-emphasised figure.