Evermore (Emily Chambers Spirit Medium Trilogy #3)(72)

"I am Her Majesty's Chief Royal Inventor." It was said with a raised chin and pompousness that got up Tilda's nose. "And you most certainly can and will drop everything to find this man for me. If you don't, I'll make sure the relevant authorities are alerted to your...unusual skill."

It was the moment Tilda had been dreading. Her chest suddenly hurt and she felt a little weak all over. "I see," she managed to say.

"Besides, it's not as if you have anything to keep you here. You're not married and you don't work."

So he'd investigated her. "I'm a gentlewoman," she said and winced. Now she sounded pompous. "And I, I..." She couldn't think of a single good excuse not to do as he ordered. "And I don't want to. You can't force me. I'm no hellhag so you may say what you want to the authorities. Apart from a little divination, you have no proof."

He shrugged. "If you think I need proof then you are indeed na?ve."

She sat back against the sofa's cushions and concentrated on breathing and not shaking. It all felt so hopeless! The more she tried to dig herself out of this, the more she seemed to bury herself.

"How am I to get this Oriental?" she asked. "I doubt the French will hand him over to me with a smile."

"I don't care how. Just get him. If you don't, you will suffer the fate of all hellhags."

"Hanging!"

"And your aunt and sister with you."

"B, but they don't have any skill!" she spluttered. "And I have so little."

"You have enough." He sneered, curling his fleshy top lip into his moustache. "You hellhags make me sick, even you pretty ones." He spat into his teacup. "What a waste of sweet flesh."

Tilda recoiled. Her insides twisted and her mouth went dry. She needed to be very, very careful. Grimshaw wasn't a man she could charm or trick into leaving her alone.

So what was she going to do?

Grimshaw cleared his throat and flattened his moustache with his thumb and finger. He dug into his inside coat pocket and handed her an envelope. "This letter belongs to a man traveling on the Adrienne. Not the Oriental, another. It will direct you to the airship."

She stared at the letter and with a sinking, sickening feeling she realized she had no choice.

***

A week passed in which Tilda and her aunt and sister tried to think of ways to get out of Sir Magnus's clutches. But they were trapped. They had no one to turn to and nowhere to go. The authorities held tight control on population movements so they could not flee London. It would instantly raise suspicions if they were to turn up in another city or even a small village in the middle of the moors. To travel without triggering an investigation required new identities to be made, false papers to be drawn up and other people to aid them. No, there was nothing to be done but find a way to fetch the Oriental and his machine.

It was after listening to Mary's story about the latest exploits of Black Jack Knight the sky pirate that Tilda had decided he was the man she needed.

"They say he captured the trading vessel The Eagle and stole all the cargo," Mary said over breakfast one morning.

"I heard he tortured the crew," Letitia said, tearing up her toast.

"Torture!" Aunt Winnie flapped a hand at her breast. "That man's a beast."

"So they say," Mary said, teapot poised over a teacup. "I heard he once kidnapped a cousin to the French king and ransomed him for a thousand pieces of gold."

Letitia, eyes bright, leaned over her plate. Everyone else leaned closer too. "And I heard he kidnapped the entire family of the Russian ambassador."

Mary nodded knowingly. "While holding off no less than three navy airships. Three! He may be a beast but he's a mighty strong one."

Aunt Winnie sniffed. "Strong or not, he has no morals," she muttered. "Not that I'm surprised, considering what he did to his poor brother."

"Aye," Mary said, pouring the tea.

"The authorities would have his head if they ever caught him," Letitia said, somewhat wistfully.

Tilda swirled the tea around her teacup, thoughtful. A man with legendary fighting skills, no morals and no incentive to go to the authorities—he was perfect.

"They say he's terribly handsome," Letitia went on. "And can charm the skirts off--."

"Letitia!" Aunt Winnie snapped.

"All I meant was, everyone says he prefers charming women to..." She dropped her gaze and her voice became a whisper. "To killing and raping them."

"Letitia! Don't speak that disgusting word."

"But it's true!"

"I've heard the same thing," Tilda said. She cut her boiled egg into slices, careful not to meet anyone's gaze. "That's why I'm going to hire him."

Letitia gasped. "Really? How thrilling."

"I think I'm going to faint," Aunt Winnie said, flapping her hand faster.

"Is that wise, miss?" Mary asked. "He sounds barely civilized."

"I don't require him to be civilized, I require him not to...you know."

"Kill or rape you," Letitia offered.

Aunt Winnie whimpered.

"Quite," Tilda said. "Entering into a business arrangement with a pirate who prefers charming women to hurting them is certainly a point in his favor." She stabbed a slice of egg with her fork. "Besides, I've never met a man whose charms I couldn’t resist."