“Hm,” Daniel said, looking over. “Pocket editions. Wise choice. And is that a first edition ofCrime and PunishmentI see?”
“Yes,” Alice answered. “I brought it along for a little light entertainment. After I’ve finished, you may borrow it if you wish.”
He flashed her a warm smile. Stunned, Alice was trying to decide how she ought to respond when the steward’s officious voice, tapping like his pen, demanded attention.
“So didyoubring any clothes, Miss Dearlove?”
She lifted the duffel bag at her feet.
The steward regarded it incredulously. “My wife needs three times that space just for her unmentionables.”
“I’m good at folding things,” Alice said. She heard a snort of disagreement from Daniel but dared not look at him again lest he completely overwhelm her with another facial expression.
“I will just do a final check of your disguise,” the steward said, “then you can go.” He surveyed her critically. “That hat is not big enough.”
Alice set a hand against the yellow structure balanced at a pert angle upon her intricately curled pompadour. “It has three feathers and apapier-mâchébutterfly,” she argued.
The steward sniffed again, unconvinced. He jabbed his pen at her dress. “Pink! It was supposed to be fuchsia. And do you call that a bustle?” Tucking the clipboard under his arm, he snapped his fingers and a young assistant dashed forward with a tape measure. The steward set it against the protruding rear of Alice’s skirt. “Six inches. Entirely unsuitable for a pirate—you couldn’t even fit a pistol in there. And you!”
Daniel stared stonily at the steward, but it was to no avail. “Youlook far too good, Agent B. Your suit is impeccable, your posture unbowed by years of trying to manage a histrionic wife.”
Daniel glanced at Alice. “She does not look particularly histrionic to me, hat notwithstanding. And this suit was made by a tailor from Panama, charming fellow, much in demand with pirate gentlemen. Besides, I’ll have you note my earring.”
He turned his head to better display the small silver ring in his left ear. Seeing it, Alice felt a surge of something indeed like histrionics in her blood. The steward muttered again but reluctantly signed them off, and without further ado, they entered the cottage.
Inside they found a single room furnished with one rather grimy sofa and a crate serving as a table. A bench held tea supplies and the kind of biscuits found in offices everywhere—plain, dusty, and inevitably soft when you bite into them. A wooden chair stood in front of the steering array. The wheel itself was missing two spokes and had been attached to the floor with a rusted bolt and strips of old adhesive tape. The window in front of it lacked curtains, latches, or any indication of ever having been cleaned.
“How are we supposed to live in this for a week?” Alice asked, already scratching in anticipation of fleas. “There’s not even only one bed.”
“We’ll stay in the castle,” Daniel said as he inspected the navigational tools. “Most of the attendees will do the same, although they’ll park their own houses nearby in case of trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?” Alice lifted the kettle, noting the incantation etched into its copper surface, which enabled it to boil water without the aid of a stove. That was a relief. She might contract tetanus over the next few hours in this shack, but at least there would be tea.
“Any kind of trouble they can think up,” Daniel said. “And pirates have good imaginations.” He opened a door, then regarded with somebemusement the handle, which had come off in his grip. Reattaching it without much success, he looked warily into the room.
“Water closet,” he reported, grimacing. “Considering its state, let’s just say we’re fortunate to have only a short journey.”
“Fire extinguisher,” Alice added, lifting the lid of the crate and peering inside. “Although it looks too heavy to lift, and”—she jiggled a loose switch on the side, causing a clatter inside the scratched and dented metal body—“I think it’s broken.”
“Even O’Riley’s battlehouse wasn’t so dilapidated,” Daniel said. Seeing her expression, he smiled gently. “Don’t worry. I can fly most things, and if it comes to the worst, we’ll ditch the cottage and get some bicycles instead.”
“Our suitcases won’t fit on bicycles.”
His smile tilted. “It was a joke, Miss Dearlove. A tactic to ease your nerves.”
“I don’t have nerves.”
“That’s all right, I don’t have a sense of humor. Well, I’d better get us up.”
He moved toward the wheel, and Alice shifted out of his way. But the space was more limited than either of them appreciated, and as he passed by, Daniel inadvertently brushed his hand against hers.
Three seconds later he realized this had been unfortunate, mainly due to the fact he was lying on his back with her booted foot on his chest. He blinked dazedly up at her, and she winced.
“I do beg your pardon,” she said. “I am averse to being lightly touched.”
“Yes, I noticed.”
“May I help you up?”
