The Iron Duke (28 page)

“What did Scarsdale get into?”

“I shot him with an opium dart.” She looked past him. “You’re sharing a room?”

“Yasmeen already had another contract, and his journey won’t interfere with ours. He’ll be using the stateroom.”

He gestured to the end of the passageway, to the largest cabin on the airship aside from the captain’s directly above them.

“Ah, yes. The contract that was already half paid. You must be paying her more. Yet she wouldn’t change the cabin arrangements for the Duke of Anglesey?”

“I don’t mind. I’m not here to lie in bed.” Unless it was Mina’s.

She didn’t look convinced. Turning back to her valise, she said, “So who rates above you?”

“Archimedes Fox.”

With a laugh, she faced him again. “The adventurer?”

A fraud, probably. What little Rhys had heard of the man’s escapades sounded ridiculous and implausible. “You’ve read his stories?”

“Who hasn’t? Andrew used to make pennies by reading them to the laborers on the docks.”

Resourceful boy.
“And so I am not his only inspiration.”

“No.” She smiled. “You also compete with the Blacksmith.”

“But I won out.” He watched her gather an armload of clothing from the valise. The cabin door blocked access to the wardrobe. Perfect. He kicked the door closed and moved deeper in the cabin. She had to brush past him to reach the wardrobe, and then frowned when she couldn’t open it.

Pushing closer, Rhys showed her how to lift the door before swinging it wide. “So that it won’t fling open.”

“Thank you.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not in my element.”

“No.”

She smoothed the collar of a white shirt over a hook. “I realize that you have done me a . . . favor. But I intend to perform my duty as instructed.”

“Did you expect that you’d have to do something else?”

Of course she had. Folded and tucked in his waistcoat pocket lay a simple message:
I accept. -W.W.

But if she knew he had the note, no doubt she’d feel an obligation to keep up her end of the bargain. He didn’t want her that way. And though he ought to get rid of the message, Rhys knew he would keep it until she accepted all of him. Perhaps beyond that time.

She’d agreed to take him once. That small slip of paper gave him hope that she would again—but without coercion.

“No.” She lied well. Not a hint of color tinged her cheeks. “We should compile everything we know about the Black Guard. Will we have a place to work?”

“The officers’ mess, or I’ll ask Yasmeen for the use of her cabin.”

“Either would be sufficient.” She paused. “Why an
officers
’ mess? This is a private airship.”

“Not always.”

“Oh.” She returned to the bed. “This was a navy airship?”

“Not the Royal Navy’s.” They tended to be heavier. “It was a French ship. She took it during the Liberé war.”

“I see.” She frowned and withdrew a small combination box from her valise. “I didn’t pack this.”

“Your mother brought your case to us.”

She dialed in the numbers, and with a clicking of gears, the steel box opened to reveal a silver cross. A soft sigh escaped her. “This. I remember my grandmother would take it out to look at—and she said that
her
mother used to wear it, even though the Horde outlawed all of these old relics. It meant something else to them. I think my mother only looks at it to remind herself of my grandmother.” She closed the box, shaking her head. “I suppose she wants me to sell it.”

“It would fetch a good price.” When she looked up at him, he said, “I used to smuggle relics like these into the Horde territories. Sometimes into the empire itself.”

Her eyes widened. “They’ve outlawed them everywhere?”

“For taxes and peace.”

“What?”

“It used to be, after the Horde conquered a region, they let everyone worship whatever they always had—and they didn’t tax the clerics. But then rich men started becoming clerics, and hiding their money. In other regions, their
dargas
were squabbling over religious differences. So the Horde eradicated it altogether.”

“How do you know that?”

“There are still hidden pockets in the territories. That’s where I’d take those relics.”

“In the empire?” When he nodded, she asked, “What was it like?”

“Safe. Orderly. The Khan boasts that an old woman carrying a bag of gold could walk from one end of the empire to the other unmolested. And from what I’ve seen, that’s true. You could live there peacefully.
I
could live there peacefully.”

“But?”

He had to smile. Of course it couldn’t be that ideal. “But if you ever speak out against the
dargas
or the Khan, you’ll disappear.”

“Lovely.” She looked into the valise again and gave a small growl of dismay.
“Mother
.
”

Rhys reached in. Nestled in a nightgown lay several small, beautifully crafted automata—singing birds, jumping frogs, clockwork bracelets shaped like kraken . . . and a tiny butterfly. Intrigued, he glanced at Mina, wondering if she knew what it was. The butterfly’s wire legs were designed to gently fit over a clitoris. When wound, the wings would flutter until the vibration brought the woman to orgasm.

A delicate little device—and nothing like the contraptions at the Blacksmith’s. Used for pleasure, rather than to hurt or degrade.

He held the butterfly in his palm. “You say your mother made this?”

Mina barely glanced at it, instead frowning at a thick envelope that she’d taken from the bottom of the case. “Blast it all. They could have used this while I’m gone. These devices would have covered any possible need I might have had.”

Rhys recognized the money he’d sent for the butler. “We have to stop in Chatham. I’ll wire instructions to my steward, and he’ll have the same amount sent to them.”

“Thank you.” She handed him the packet.

He tucked it into his jacket and looked down at her mother’s devices. “And I’ll buy all of these from you now.”

“Oh.” She cast her eye over the collection. “Two livre.”

Outrageous, but he could afford to be cheated. “Done. And you’ll show me how to use the butterfly later.”

Both her faint smile and the color in her cheeks pleased him. “I couldn’t use that. My mother made it.”

“So?”

She blinked before pursing her lips. “It’s difficult to explain to a man from a crèche. Let me put it so: If you had a daughter, would you want her to use a similar device that you made and gave to her?”

Unexpected, instinctive recoil tore through him.

“Just so.” With a nod, she closed the empty valise. “Shall we move to the wardroom, then, and begin our work?”

“In a moment.” He blocked her access to the door. “You asked if I received your message. What did it say?”

He didn’t know what drove him. She didn’t look at him with bitter disdain now, or anger—and he shouldn’t risk them again. But he had to know how she would explain it, and hope that the lies she chose would reveal as much as the truth.

“Oh. Only, ‘Thank you.’ For the butler. It was not . . . about your offer.”

“I asked too much?”

“Not too much for Andrew. But it promised to be a very high price. Higher than I ever expected.” A shadow moved over her face, as if she’d already paid some of it.

He tilted her chin up. “Should I have asked for less? I’m used to taking everything, but I suppose a gentleman should only take in bits. What would have been easier to pay?”

“I don’t think a gentleman
takes
anything at all.”

“I never said I’d be a good one.” When she smiled, he said, “A kiss, then. I should have offered to take you with me for the price of a kiss. Would you have paid it?”

“Yes. But I paid that after the ratcatcher.”

So she had. “And to open this cabin door?”

She laughed. And though her hands dropped to her weapons, she rose onto her toes. He dipped his head and her mouth pressed to his sweetly, firmly.

Simple. Nothing. Yet need suddenly raged through him, hardening and heating. Damn her. He’d only meant to play. But it took him over—and not her. Why not her? Was she still so afraid?

She abruptly drew away, her gaze averted, as if she’d stumbled across something that made her uneasy.

And he couldn’t play or tease her now. “That’s not all that I want. It won’t be enough.”

She closed her eyes. “Why do you even want it?”

He didn’t know. He couldn’t account for it. Frustration boiled up, drove him to her. He captured her face between his hands. “I want to possess you. And if I want something, I find a way to have it.”

“I see.”

His jaw clenched. She didn’t see. Neither did he. “This is the first time it’s a woman.”

She blinked. Rhys lowered his head. Stiffened, her mouth didn’t open, but he tasted the sweetness of her lips, the firm line between. His hands circled her waist, carried her up against him. He felt something within her hitch, like the catch of a breath, and her mouth softened against his. Her fingers threaded into the hair at his nape.

Finally.
Heart pounding, he delved deeper. The heat of her mouth drew him in, the first glide across her teeth, the hesitant touch of her tongue. She shuddered against his chest and broke away, gasping.

She pushed at his shoulders. “I don’t want this.”

Bullshit.
“You don’t enjoy it? Lie to me, if it’s easier.”

“I don’t
want
to enjoy it. That means the same to me.”

So she wanted him. She just didn’t want to. That was something. And it was enough—for now.

“Set me down.”

He did. She stumbled back against the bunk, hands on her weapons.

“Only here,” he said. “That’s all I want.”

“What?”

“You. Me. Until we return to London. There will be no ruin to you or your family. I’ll kiss you until we can’t breathe. I’ll strip you naked and taste every inch of you. Then I’ll shag you until neither of us can see straight. And we’ll have had enough of each other.”

She stared at him, lips parted. A long second passed before she shook her head. “
None
is enough.”

He looked her over. Her cheeks had flushed. Her breathing hadn’t yet settled. “Are you certain of that, inspector?”

“Yes.” She stood. “Let us go now, sir.”

 

 

Mina climbed up to the main decks with Trahaearn’s taste
still on her tongue. Trying to ignore the sensation only made her more aware of everything else: her thin chemise, which seemed useless today, protecting the tips of her breasts from the abrasion of her tight armor. The vibration of the engines prevented her from losing herself in her skin; she was constantly always aware of her feet on the decks or her bottom in a seat. The rush of cold air against her cheeks should have brushed away the memory of his heated mouth. She should have scrubbed her lips with the heel of her hand, but she didn’t want him to see. So he lingered, and all that she could do was wait for his flavor to pass and for the tingle over her skin to fade.

She paused near the bow to look over the side, drawn by the blue and the white. The airship was headed toward gray, but even rain clouds were different than haze, full of shape and varying shades. Below, pools of sunlight dappled golden fields between the shadows of the clouds, and a breeze sent the grasses rippling like a wave.

Trahaearn stopped beside her. “We’re almost to Chatham. We’ll wait until Fox boards before heading below again.”

“Why?” Though the adventurer piqued Mina’s curiosity, the duke hadn’t seemed impressed. “You want to meet him, after all?”

He shook his head. “It’s not my ship. But I still prefer to know everyone aboard.”

“I see.” Not his ship, but still every inch the captain. “And what will you learn by looking at him? Are you such a good judge of character?”

That amused him. “No. I don’t know whether a man is an enemy until he comes at me with a knife.”

“Truly? I think that it’s obvious when someone hates you.”

“Hate, yes. But how can you know whether they intend to hurt you? I’ve met men who’d rather shit on my plate than eat with me, but they’ll still bend over their tables to make a deal that lines their pockets.” He shrugged. “So I treat everyone as if they will stab me in the back until I better know them.”

Just like Mina. She almost laughed.

His eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

“I dislike everyone until I know them.” Then had to admit, “Some, I continue to dislike even after knowing them.”

“I care nothing for like or dislike. It only matters whether they have a use to me.”

“Whether they have a use?” Though she shook her head, Mina was not surprised. She’d heard that word from his mouth too many times. “And you make it very easy to continue on as I’ve started.”

His dark brows snapped together. Had she startled him? His gaze searched her face, as if trying to confirm whether Mina meant what she’d said. Would he care if she disliked him? She couldn’t be certain.

“Perhaps not everyone according to their use,” he finally said. “I would still call Scarsdale a friend.”

Mina couldn’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t like the bounder. “And is he the only one?”

His eyes locked with hers. “No.”

She couldn’t mistake his implication. That didn’t mean she’d believe it. “Ah, but you are also a pirate and a liar, and have a use for me in your bed. I will not trust that you like me, sir.”

He grinned. “And your response is why I do.”

Her answering smile seemed to grow on its own. She did like him . . . sometimes. When he was not a complete knacker.

They soon came over the Medway River, and then the port at Chatham, where Lady Corsair cut the engines and sailed into position above a boarding house. With the tails of her red kerchief blowing over her shoulders, she left the quarterdeck and approached them, a frown creasing her brow.