The machines fascinated him. He liked mechanical things, and this modern age was rife with them, such wonders. The automatons looked like a new design by Les Enfants Magnifiques in France. Each androide had a series of slots in its back where punch cards could be inserted. The cards told the automatons how to move, so that they actually played the instruments in front of them. Occasionally one of the lady machines would stop playing and do a little twirl, skirts flaring around her delicate ankles. Their hands and faces looked incredibly lifelike until one got close enough to see hinged fingers and eyes only painted to look real.
“You’re more interested in those machines than your fiancée,” came a voice beside him.
He turned his head and met Claire’s amused gaze. “I am a cad,” he replied.
“Indeed, but a clever one.”
“It was the only thing I could think of to save both you and my mother from embarrassment.”
She smiled a little, full lips curving so invitingly. “I understand all about the English obsession with decorum and propriety. I don’t care about me, but I would not want to cause you or your mother any discomfort.”
“I appreciate that.” It sounded trite, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
She turned her attention to the musical machines. “They make my flesh creep.”
“Really? I think they’re wonderful.”
“They remind me of corpses.”
Alastair frowned. She was right. “Now you’ve ruined it for me as well.”
“Really?” She cast a surprised glance in his direction.
“No.” He grinned. “I think they look like big dolls.”
“Dangerous dolls. All someone would have to do is tamper with their operational cards or their logic engine, and they could easily become deadly weapons.”
He’d seen it happen. “I doubt that will happen here, and those instruments are secured to them. I think it would be deuced difficult to kill someone with a violin bow.”
Claire arched a teasing brow. “Clearly you’ve never been to Berlin.”
A chuckle pushed past his lips at the absurd statement. “I think you saw a different side of Berlin than I did.”
“I don’t doubt that. Are you going to dance with me, or do we let people think you have some infirmity that keeps you from taking your betrothed for a whirl on the floor?”
He held out his hand. “It would be my honor.” Her fingers slipped into his, and he escorted her into the middle of the dance floor.
“Do you see him?” he asked after a few moments.
She frowned. “Don’t rush me. If he’s in this room, he’s no doubt in disguise. I haven’t seen anyone who even remotely reminded me of him all evening.”
He smiled down at her—just like a doting fiancé should. “Keep looking. And try not to frown, will you? We may be watched, and we don’t want our cover questioned.”
“We are being watched,” she retorted with a bright smile—it was more like a baring of teeth. “By your mother and everyone else in the room.”
“I have faith in your acting abilities, my dear.” He twirled her around. “And my mother is not watching us; she’s watching out for us. There’s a difference.”
Arched brows lifted slightly. “Is your mother a Warden?” she asked in a low tone.
Alastair replied just as softly, “Once upon a time, yes.”
“So she knows you’re on a mission.”
“Most likely, yes.”
Claire swore. “Is she going to be a problem?”
Alastair slanted his gaze at her. “What do you mean?”
She looked as though the answer should be obvious. “Is she going to interfere with our work?”
“No. She’s smart enough not to do that.”
“Thank God.”
He would not react. He would not snap. “Just what the hell is that supposed to mean? My mother’s been doing this since before you could walk. I would be honored to have her assistance in any assignment. She is a countess, an incredibly strong woman, and she has saved more lives than you or I ever will. You will show her the proper respect.”
“Or what?” she challenged, eyes glinting.
“You can return to the submersible for the duration of this mission and I’ll find Howard on my own.”
It was a cruel threat, but one he would follow through on.
“Fine,” she snapped, but her cheeks were pink. Obviously she felt chastised. Good.
“I know this is important to you. It’s important to me as well, but my family is more important.”
Her gaze lifted to his, bright with anger. “It’s important because Howard killed the only family I had left.”
His heart broke for her, but she didn’t want or need his sympathy. “Then stop turning your anger on me and on my mother, and find Howard.”
“I would if you’d stop making me behave irrationally.”
He almost stumbled over his own feet. She probably had no idea how much she had just revealed to him with that simple, emotional retort. What a fine pair they were. It would have been better if Luke had accompanied her. There’d be none of this foolishness. Luke would have claimed Claire as his sister or some other relation. Hell, Luke could have claimed her as his mistress, not that Alastair wanted to think about that.
He turned her around in time to the music. “Take your time. Look at every face.”
That was all the urging she needed. He steered them around the dance floor, making certain they turned at the right time so that she could study every person in the room.
“Nothing,” she said finally, shoulders slumping in defeat. It was an odd effect, because she smiled at him as she spoke, keeping up the pretense. “What if he’s not on the boat?”
“He is. The Doctor was all too happy to give Howard up. Seems he promised to take the Doctor with him, pay him for his services and keep him out of the Company’s reach. Surprise, Howard lied.”
“He certainly doesn’t seem to care about making enemies.”
“Why should he? If what we’ve heard is true, he plans to have a new face crafted for himself shortly after arriving in America. No one will ever recognize him then.”
Their gazes locked. Claire’s expression of wonder was a mirror of his own. “A doctor,” she said. “If he left one behind, he must have another with him—he wouldn’t trust his new face to someone he didn’t know.”
Alastair nodded. It was a sound assumption, provided Howard hadn’t made arrangements with an American doctor. “We need to find out if there are any doctors on board. If Howard wants a new face, he’s got to have someone he can trust to do the procedure.”
“And tend his wound,” she said, eyes widening. “Alastair, I shot him. He’s wounded. Unless he had a serum like Dr. Stone’s, he should still be in a degree of pain.”
“You shot him, and you’re just telling me now?” Chances were that Howard did have access to some healing compounds, but probably not anything like what Evie concocted.
“I forgot.” She seemed almost as surprised as he was. “How could I have forgotten?”
“Many people lose bits of the events leading up to an injury. It was weeks before I remembered what happened to me, and even still some of it has never come back.”
She didn’t look comforted. “Let’s find the captain. If she doesn’t know whether there’s a doctor on board, she’ll be able to tell us how to find out.”
They returned to the table only to find that the captain had retired for the night. It took all of Alastair’s resolve not to kick something in frustration or put his fist through the top of the table. But he held himself in check because he was English and that sort of btha’s rehavior was rude.
“What now?” Claire asked.
He looked around the room. There were so many rich women and men milling about, so many bored people looking for a fresh face to interrogate. “We mingle. Ask a few discreet questions.”