“When doesn’t he? Fond as I am of Dama, he is still a vampire. Not to mention the potentate. Mainly, I think he’s giving me something to do. So I don’t get into any real trouble here. Cause a scandal in London that even all my parents can’t extract me from.”

Quesnel, horrible creature, did not make the appropriate noises about how unlikely that should be. “Good point, mon petit chou. Anything else I should know?”

“There’s a very disagreeable redhead under you as senior greaser.”

“Aggie Phinkerlington?”

“You know her already, do you?”

“Of course I do. We’re grand old chums. Protégée of my mother’s.”

“Of course you’re friendly. And naturally, she knows your mother. Isn’t that simply spiffing?”

“Ah, chérie, I shouldn’t fret. You’ll manage to keep us all in line somehow.”

He was a dozen years older than her, but Rue wasn’t going to let that impinge on her authority. “And don’t you forget it. I’m your captain on this trip and…” She paused, searching for an appropriate threat. “I’m certain they have duck ponds in India.”

Quesnel grinned. “Speaking of which.” In a terribly fast movement for a mortal, he stood, scooping Rue up into his arms. He was strong for a mere inventor – probably from moving all those steam engine kettles around.

Rue protested, wiggling.

Quesnel stilled and looked deeply into her eyes. His glittered with guile.

Rue’s stomach sank. Was he going to try to kiss her? She was both terrified and curious. Rue had allowed herself to be kissed before, of course she had, she wasn’t that old-fashioned. But not by Quesnel.

He bent down, face more serious than she’d ever seen it, looking actually handsome instead of boyishly cocky.

She opened her mouth to protest but found she hadn’t any words.

He leaned in closer.

And then she was hurtling through the air to land with a tremendous splash on her posterior in the duck pond.

Rue emerged sputtering but feeling in more control than she had since she first entered Countess Nadasdy’s abode. “Mr Lefoux, this dress is a Worth.” Her lovely grey gown had been through quite a lot that evening, what with the boiler explosion earlier and now this.

“Had to be done, mon petit chou. If you’re to be my captain shortly, I can’t spend weeks cooped up on an airship with you, constantly faced with the mad temptation to dump you overboard. You must see the necessity of getting such things out of the way now?”

Oddly, Rue did. “I understand your reasoning.” She waded out of the pond with as much dignity as possible, trailing lily-pads. Uncle Rabiffano’s lovely hairdo sagged and the seagull hat was a non-starter. It floated away, looking as if something monstrous had drowned.