“I was hoping for Wink and Liam,” Melody said, frowning. “Not that I’m not pleased to see all of you, but Wink’s expertise would have been helpful.” She wiggled her grease-stained fingers at the pile of parts.
“Wink and—” Devere coughed. “That is, Liam has a case and Wink didn’t want to leave him.” He slanted his eyes up at Victor.
“You mean she’s up to her knees in the investigation as well.” Melody picked up a couple of pieces and fit them together, then deftly fastened them with a screw. “No need to beat around the bush. Lord Blackwell knows the women in our circle don’t often sit home and tat. Victor, can you hand me that section of the boiler?”
Taking a seat himself, beside Melody, he did as he was told, ignoring the curious glances of the others. Melody fitted it to the piece in her hand like bits of a jigsaw puzzle and shook her head. “This is very strange.” She looked up. “So Miss D has come to play chaperone, and Tom is here to help Victor. Nell, why did you come? Just to keep me company? You’re not getting into the family business now, are you? Didn’t think you wanted anything to do with it.”
Family business? Victor had no idea what that meant. Something to do with the Home Office?
The younger girl blushed and shrugged. “Not at all. I just had one of my...feelings that I should come along. Besides, it’s nice to get out of the city now and then.” Her voice was possibly the most lyrical alto Victor had ever heard.
Melody raised an eyebrow. “This feeling of yours—anyone I know?” Her fingers continued moving even as she talked, putting together pieces of her engine.
Nell shook her head. “Even I’m not sure. I think it might have been Mama, but she hasn’t been around since I was adopted.” None of the last few sentences had made any sense to Victor whatsoever.
“Why the hell didn’t you say something before?” Devere turned on his foster sister. “One of your ghosts told you to come? Damn it, Nell, that could mean this is going to be dangerous. I told you, you should have stayed at home.”
Ghosts? Victor schooled himself not to roll his eyes.
“Thomas!” Nell put her hands on her hips and looked pointedly at the two children. “Pipe down. This is neither the time nor the place, and in any case, you are in no way my keeper.”
Melody let out a loud whistle. “What’s gotten into you two? Little ears, in case you haven’t noticed. And lots of strangers.” She shook her head. “Victor, children, I apologize for my friends. Normally, they’re quite civilized. I assume you’ve all been introduced?”
There was a murmur as the visitors were made known to the children and Willard. Victor drew in a deep breath. Was the Hadrian girl some kind of lunatic? If so, she was the sweetest, most ladylike one he’d ever met. Why the hell had the others brought her here?
“Melody, before these two started bickering like infants, what was it you’d said about something being strange?” Miss Hadrian didn’t come across as upset, rather more amused by her young relatives’ antics.
Melody grunted down at the boiler. “This. It isn’t from the crash—that fire wasn’t hot enough to do this much damage to solid copper. It looks as if the puncture comes from the outside—not a pressure rupture from the inside as I suspected. And the burn is too high on the side to have been caused by a burner flare, which again, wouldn’t cause this effect anyway.”
“And what does that mean to those of us who know nothing about dirigibles?” Victor saw the blackened, melted gouge she was talking about. It did appear to be on the side of the large tank rather than the bottom, and the outside of the hole was blacker than the inside.
She frowned. “I’m not sure. Emma, Alec, could you two take Birch for a run in the paddock, please? Mr. Willard, would you please go keep an eye on them? And make sure no one else comes into the barn for a few moments?” She shot him a winsome smile.
The stoic horseman actually blushed. “Yes, miss, of course. Excuse me, milords, ladies.” He bowed hurriedly and followed the children outside, shutting the door behind them.
“Now,” Melody said, setting down the boiler and pulling off her work gloves. “Here’s the thing. There was nothing on my ship to cause this particular type of damage. There’s a similar hole in the hull that lines up with this one. I think someone shot the ship with something. My crash wasn’t an accident.”
Nell gasped but the others all nodded.
Victor felt fury boiling up inside him. “Someone shot you? What the hell kind of bullet was that?”
Melody laid her hand on his knee. “I don’t know. Nothing I’ve seen before.”
Devere leaned over Melody’s other shoulder. “It reminds me a little of the burns from the electric stunning pistols Wink bought the—I mean me. Burns rather than an actual projectile. But they aren’t capable of damage on any scale approaching this.”
Melody bit her lip. “You might be right. But the size it would take to do something like this...it would be bigger than a cannon.”
“Before the children come back,” Victor interrupted. An unexpected fury welled up at the idea that this younger chap shared things with Melody that he didn’t. “Melody, do you want to tell them something? About us?” He covered her hand with his own and laced their fingers together.
She smiled up at him. “Right. Now which...?”
“It’s up to you,” he whispered.
She gave a little nod and turned back to the group. “The official story is that Victor and I have known one another for some time and that this was my destination when I ‘crashed.’ After seeing me nearly get myself killed, he was so overwrought he proposed, and I was so shaken by my brush with death that I accepted—or by his title—whatever. Anyway, we’re engaged. Miss Dorothy is here to chaperone and you two—” she looked pointedly at Devere and Nell, “—are just here for fun, I guess. Nell, if you wanted to help with Emma and Alec, that would be enormously useful. You’ve got a lot more experience with little ones than I do. Tom, you’re to help Victor and I catch the smugglers, but if anyone asks, I suppose you’re here to help me rebuild the Zephyr.”
Devere grunted. “I’ve played assistant to Wink often enough. I can do that. Just don’t ask me to fly the damn thing. But what the hell is this about an engagement? You’ve only been here for two days. That’s almost as bad as Connor.”
“It isn’t real,” Melody whispered. “Please. My brother’s circumstances were entirely different. Belinda was facing a death sentence, for heaven’s sake. This is just a ruse so that I could get someone to come out and help with the smugglers before anyone else gets hurt. Also, a body washed up on the beach—shot. Apparently the smugglers have no problem killing. Are you willing to help us?”
Devere opened his mouth, closed it again and finally nodded.
“I’d love to spend some time with the children.” Nell’s face brightened. She was lovely and ghosts or no ghosts, she probably wasn’t insane. She didn’t hold a candle to Melody, though, even with a grease smudge on her nose. “I’ve been thinking of following in Mum’s footsteps and becoming a teacher. This will give me a chance to spend time with some who haven’t known me their whole lives.”
Melody leaned in to whisper to Victor. “Nell has six younger siblings. Emma and Alec will be in good hands while we look for a new governess.”
We? When had she inserted herself into the workings of his household? Meanwhile, Melody was still laying things out for her friends, explaining the situation in quick, comprehensible terms. “So not a word to anyone. As far as you know, the engagement is completely real, and we’re just waiting for my parents to get here to set a date. Clear?”
“Crystal.” Devere frowned. “I don’t like it, but changing the story now would just muck things up further.”
Miss Dorothy shrugged. “I think it’s an excellent plan. I’ll do my part, never worry. An old lady like myself has every excuse to snoop, and no one will take me seriously. Perhaps, Melody, you and I should spend some time with the village dressmaker—Nell too, if she l
ikes. You’ll be wanting a trousseau, after all. A seamstress is often an excellent source of gossip.”
“Brilliant!” Melody beamed. “What fun. We can shop for hats, gloves, meet the vicar—learn all kinds of things under the guise of planning a wedding. And if I’m to run the household, I’ll have to get to know the butcher, the baker...”
“The candlestick maker.” Victor groaned. “I hope I don’t have to get dragged into this.”
Devere nodded. “Likewise. Although, perhaps we can spend some time at the pub while the ladies shop. That’s another good place to get the pulse of an area.”
The children returned and the conversation returned to more general matters while they assisted Melody in examining her engine piece by piece. She reassembled what she could and set aside the bits that were beyond repair. For the first time in ages, Victor found himself relaxing and enjoying the company of others close to his own age, although at twenty-nine, he had a few years on Melody, and probably on the others as well. Barnaby did his best to flirt with Miss Dorothy, but she remained impervious, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Even Willard was included in the general conviviality and put to work by Melody. They’d gone through almost every scrap when a footman came out to announce that it was only one hour until supper.
“Victor, is there somewhere you can lock this up?” Melody chewed on a strand of her hair, which had come loose from her braided bun. “I’ll want to study it at some length—run some chemical tests if I can get the materials.”
“There’s a storeroom,” Willard said. “We use it for the most valuable tack. The old lord had a silver saddle—insisted on locking it up every night.”
“But Dick didn’t even like to ride.” Victor helped young Nell to her feet before lifting Melody and handing over her crutches. “Why on earth would he have a silver saddle?”
Willard shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, my lord.”
Melody leaned on him while she stretched awkwardly and grimaced. “Sitting on the ground for so long probably wasn’t the best idea with a bruised-up backside.”
The others laughed at her frank language, but Victor shook his head and looked pointedly at the children. He’d come too close to forgetting that Melody would never be an appropriate example for a genteel young girl. Her language was just one example.
Melody sighed. “Just so you know, Emma, that was a horribly impolite word. I should’ve never used it in company.”
Emma giggled. “I know.”
Melody moved slowly away on her crutches with a sharp glance back at Victor. He watched her go, her movements slow and labored. With a muttered curse, he strode forward and caught her, tossing her crutches to Alec before lifting her into his arms. “Just keeping up appearances,” he muttered.
She shrugged, holding herself stiffly, her gaze avoiding his. “Fine.”
Victor didn’t know much about women, but he was quite sure fine didn’t mean what he’d thought it meant.
Chapter Six
Melody hated to admit it, but she was tired and sore. Victor carried her back to her new bedroom—conveniently across the hall from his. Since this one boasted a bathing chamber with actual plumbing, she allowed herself the luxury of a long bath before having Miss Dorothy re-bind her ankle. Dorothy and Nell were in the rooms on either side of Melody’s, while Tom had been placed across from Nell, next to the master suite. By universal consent, the women gathered in Melody’s room before the meal to chat and help Melody dress. It felt nice to be in one of her own gowns, a simple rose-colored satin with a modest lace-trimmed neckline and a sweeping full skirt. The frock was a favorite, and she couldn’t help but wonder what Victor would think of her in a proper gown with a snugly fitted corset and full hoopskirts underneath.
“So, tell us about Lord Blackwell,” Nell said. “He’s dreadfully handsome, but a little frightening, don’t you think?”
Melody sat at the dressing table, allowing Dorothy’s lady’s maid to arrange her hair. Since she couldn’t turn her head, she caught Nell’s eye in the mirror. “Imposing, perhaps, but not frightening. He’s had a hard time in the last year. Losing his brother, giving up his life at sea, then coming home to find this—well, it’s a lot, that’s all. He’s a bit crusty and sort of a prig, but he cares about his niece and his people and doesn’t deserve to have them endangered.”
Nell blinked. “I didn’t say otherwise. I like him, to tell you the truth. There’s a sense of strength about him. A woman would always feel safe with him nearby.”
“Hmph.” Dorothy snorted. “Seems like someone who could handle a man like that would be competent enough to keep herself safe.”
“Absolutely.” Melody said, resisting the urge to nod. “We don’t all need a man to keep us sheltered from the world.”
Nell smiled sadly. “Of course not. Still, there is strength in numbers. Everyone ought to have someone to watch their back. Look at Mum and Papa, or Wink and Liam. Mum and Wink are two of the strongest women I know, but they’re stronger when they’re paired with Papa and Liam. The same goes for your parents, Melody. Or for Connor and Belinda or Genny and Magnus, or Aunt Dorothy and Miss Julian.”
“True.” Dorothy’s face softened at the mention of the love of her life, Miss Margaret Julian. Although their love was anathema to society and therefore a well-kept secret, Melody had known them all her life and saw nothing odd in their relationship. Some people were just different, that was all. “Maggie had to go to the christening of a new great-niece, which is why she didn’t come with me. She’d wanted to pose as my paid companion.”
“That would have been brilliant.” Nell leaned her head on her great-aunt’s shoulder and grinned. “I think we should inundate Lord Blackwell with females. As many as we can collect. We seem to make his skin itch.”
Melody snorted. “Not in a good way.” She wrinkled her nose at her reflection as the maid artfully pinned her hair. “You don’t suppose he prefers other men, do you? I’m told that’s common among sailors.”
Nell and Dorothy shared a glance and both burst out laughing.
“What?” Melody crossed her arms. “It’s possible. Not that I’d think less of him for it.”
“Not even a little bit.” Dorothy laughed out loud. “Are you that oblivious, child? The man fairly beats his chest like a gorilla when he looks at you. He may not realize it, but he’s utterly entranced.”
Melody shook her head. “I don’t believe you. He thinks I’m a horrible, mannish excuse for a woman. He probably agreed to having Nell watch the children just to keep Emma and I apart. Actually, Nell might be exactly the kind of woman he’s looking for.” Her stomach twisted at the accuracy of those words. Nell was perfect for Victor, sweet and genteel. The idea left Melody winded.
“What a man thinks and what he wants are often two different things,” Dorothy said. “Now, come on. Let’s get you laced up so we can go downstairs. It’s been a long day, and all I want is a meal and then a nice early night. Tomorrow, we shop.”
* * *
After dinner, Miss Dorothy retired to her room with a brandy while the younger adults played cards in the library. There was no formality with these people, Victor soon realized. The men had their port while the ladies had tea, in Nell’s case, or wine, in Melody’s. They played for pennies and ha’pennies, but were as fiercely competitive as if there were thousands of pounds on the table. Family, Victor thought. In some ways, they reminded him of his own childhood, with Dick. Dick had been five years older, but they’d been close, at least until Victor went away to school. Then Victor had joined the navy and had only come back for flying visits every other year or so, until he’d met Fleur. When she’d jilted him in favor of Dick, it had broken the last thread of friendship between the two brothers.
“It’s your turn, Victor.” Nell nudged his foot with hers.
Why did it sound so pleasant when she called him by his first name? Blindly, he played a card, only to have Melody sigh. “Really? Trumping your partner’s ace is bad form, you know.�
��
“Sorry.” Jesus, they were turning him into a brainless hulk, like the zombies he’d heard about in the Caribbean. “Sorry, darling.”
Melody blushed at the endearment, which had been his goal. After all, there were still servants about, and he needed to maintain the illusion, didn’t he? Play continued and Victor forced himself to focus on the cards. These people weren’t only informal and competitive, they were clever, even the subdued Nell. Much as he hated to admit he’d needed help, he had to accept that Melody had been right. He did. And her friends were likely to prove ideal for the task.
Later, when they all moved to retire upstairs, Victor again lifted Melody in his arms rather than watch her try to navigate the stairs with her crutches. Mindful of Tom’s watchful eye, he nodded to Nell to precede him, presuming she could help her friend with laces and whatnot, since Melody’s maid had been reassigned to the nursery, and only the one had accompanied Miss Dorothy from London.
Still, Tom waited in the hall until Victor had emerged from Melody’s room and entered his own. Was the chap going to sleep in the corridor? It might not be a bad idea. Even now, Victor felt a powerful tug, urging him to go talk things over with Melody, to make sure she was comfortable and not in pain.
“Christ.” Victor grabbed a black cap and his spyglass. When he opened the door, he jerked his head at Tom. “I’m off to watch the beach. Care to come along?”
The younger man beamed. “Two minutes.” He ducked into his room and returned with a pair of fancy-looking binoculars and an odd-shaped pistol strapped to his hip. “Let’s go.”
Victor felt a twinge of guilt at leaving Barnaby behind, but quashed it. The older man could do with some sleep. Tom was blessedly silent as he followed Victor down the path to the cliffs. Watching him move, Victor realized that Melody had not exaggerated in claiming Tom as an asset to the investigation. The chap was a natural-born hunter. For the first time, Victor began to believe there might be hope for sorting this mess out. Barnaby and the others were loyal, true, but they were sailors, not detectives, and Barnaby was no spring chicken. Bringing in a professional had been sound advice on Melody’s part.
Dragons & Dirigibles Page 8
