“Wait till you meet my disreputable friends.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, dear. We’ve got a family tradition to uphold, haven’t we?”

“Indeed.” A thought struck Miriam. “Where are you staying tonight? I’ve got a suite here. Olga, if you don’t mind—”

“I do mind,” said Olga. “If you want me to give up the guest room, I demand the imperial suite here!”

“But you know that’s booked—” Miriam began, then the doors revolved again and her eyes widened. “What are you doing here?”

“Is that any way to greet a friend?” Paulette grinned widely as she looked around. “Hey, plush! I thought this was going to be all horse manure and steam engines!”

“This is Brill’s fault,” Olga confided. “When she heard about the party, she began plotting—”

“Yeah!” Paulie agreed enthusiastically. “We couldn’t let you keep the limelight all to yourself. Say, is that really a gaslight chandelier? Isn’t that amazing?”

“Children, you’ll be late for dinner!” Brill interrupted. “Take it up some other time, huh? I don’t want to miss Sir Brakepad’s speech. Isn’t he cute?” She gently moved them in the direction of the dining room, steering Angbard discreetly. Miriam followed behind, arm in arm with her mother, and for the first time in months she dared to hope that the worst was behind her.

Preview

A preview of

THE CLAN CORPORATE

CHARLES STROSS

Now available in paperback
from Tom Doherty Associates

1. Tied Down

Nail lacquer, the woman called Helge reflected as she paused in the antechamber, always did two things to her: it reminded her of her mother, and it made her feel like a rebellious little girl. She examined the fingertips of her left hand, turning them this way and that in search of minute imperfections in the early afternoon sunlight slanting through the huge window behind her. There weren’t any. The maidservant who had painted them for her had poor nails, cracked and brittle from hard work: her own, in contrast, were pearlescent and glossy, and about a quarter-inch longer than she was comfortable with. There seemed to be a lot of things that she was uncomfortable with these days. She sighed quietly and glanced at the door.

The door opened at that moment. Was it coincidence, or was she being watched? Liveried footmen inclined their heads as another spoke. “Milady, the duchess bids you enter. She is waiting in the Day Room.”