They watched as Primrose flirted and parasolled her way through rank and file on the main deck, in a matter of moments organising the entire crew into a streamlined baggage transportation troop. Rue would have had to act like Paw and issue orders. Primrose simply manipulated everyone into doing what she wanted. It was impressive.

“That is the Honourable Primrose Tunstell’s purpose, as you so delicately put it,” said Rue.

As Quesnel’s own bags were already being unloaded and whisked up the gangplank under Prim’s expert guidance, the engineer could only say, “Remarkable. I stand corrected.”

“I believe you might want to become accustomed to the sensation.”

Quesnel turned twinkling violet eyes on her. “This is going to be such fun.”

Rue laughed. “Yes, yes, it is.” She spent a moment appreciating those eyes before Quesnel’s attention was once more caught by something on the ship.

A redhead appeared on the main deck, and it wasn’t Percy.

“Goodness,” said Rue. “What’s she doing outside the boiler room? She never leaves the inner sanctum.”

Aggie Phinkerlington waved a hand at Quesnel and yelled, “Thought those were your bits I saw loading in.”

Quesnel shouted back, “What would you know of my bits, you beastly woman?”

“More than I ever wanted to, you repulsive boffin. Come on up, see what they’ve done with all your original bits. I think you’ll like it.”

“I’d better – you know how seriously I take my bits.” Quesnel turned to Rue and doffed his hat. “Until later, chérie.” He began to stride towards the gangplank.

“Chief Lefoux?”

He paused gratifyingly quickly. “Yes, captain?”

“Staff meeting in the stateroom in one hour. I expect to see you there. Don’t let Greaser Phinkerlington and those bits distract you for too long.”

Quesnel gave a half-smile and another tip of his hat. “Of course not, captain.”

Primrose put her tea-cup down without a clatter, her big brown eyes delighted. “You didn’t lie about the tea, Rue. It is quite excellent. This is going to be a far more civilised journey than I initially thought.”

Rue huffed. “Goodness, I hope not. Life can be too civilised, don’t you think?”

Prim was genuinely shocked by such a statement from her Lady Captain – as the crew had taken to calling Rue.

Quesnel said by way of explanation, as though he were on far more intimate terms with Rue than her closest friend of twenty-odd years, “Now, Miss Tunstell, you know our girl here, raised by werewolves. Gives one a healthy scepticism of polite society. Not to mention a charmingly forthright nature.”