By Alicia Peterson
Ethel sat with the other wallflowers and resisted the urge to deploy poison gas against the man swaggering toward her. Reginald Ashcroft was about to ask her to dance. Again.
Her father required her to speak with him occasionally on family business, but Ashcroft never failed to humiliate her in the process. At least, he never failed to try.
He gave an obsequious bow, then glanced at the bulky orthopedic shoe on her right foot before straightening. “Miss Grieves. Would you honor me with a dance?”
“You forget, Mr. Ashcroft, I’m not much of a dancer. Your toes might not survive the experience.”
He laughed, a slippery sound, but she wasn’t joking. The blade hidden in her boxy shoe was sharp enough to cut bone.
He offered his elbow. “A bit of fresh air, then?”
“Very well.” She stood without taking it and limped behind him.
They passed Sebastian Malstrum, who bowed politely. She had long suspected the wealthy recluse was secretly the fearsome Captain Gearlock, but the pirate had yet to target any Grieves interests, so she did not interfere. For now.
She followed Ashcroft through the dirigible’s French doors onto the empty veranda.
“I received your father’s message,” he said. “How may I serve him today?”
The sunset glowed on the tops of the clouds, but Ethel stood in shadow. “Father is concerned about your progress.”
Ashcroft waved one hand as if her words were a swarm of gnats. “Not to worry. Windthorn’s patents will be his property soon, thanks to my charms.”
“Father will want more particulars.”
His patronizing smile stretched into self-satisfaction. “Windthorn’s daughter, Kytrina, is quite smitten with me.”
Ethel raised one eyebrow. “Quite?”
“Or perhaps it’s her parents who are smitten.” He shrugged. “It hardly matters. Without the partnership I can offer as their son-in-law, the family will be ruined within the month.”
Thanks to the sabotage you arranged in his factory. “When is the wedding?”
“Three weeks hence. There, you see?” He patted her cheek. “You can run along to your father and not worry your pretty—well, not worry yourself.”
Ethel did not blush at the insult. Her anger had turned to cold, useful fury years ago. “Thank you, Mr. Ashcroft. This has been very reassuring.”
He sauntered inside.
The man was too cocky and foolish to be of long-term use to the family. Not that he would realize that until it was too late.
As Ethel observed the partygoers through the French doors and considered her next move, the Windthorns arrived. Ashcroft made a show of greeting them. Kytt curtsied and smiled demurely, a model fiancée, but Ethel knew a mask when she saw one.
Sympathy was not one of her strengths, but perception was. Kytt Windthorn was an intelligent girl; she knew she was engaged to a buffoon.
So when Kytt excused herself to visit the powder room and instead snuck away with Sebastian Malstrum, Ethel followed. If they shared a secret love that might derail her family’s plans, it was time to interfere.
Beyond the ballroom, Miss Windthorn’s dress flashed around a corner. After waiting several seconds, Ethel followed and found a deserted hallway lined with closed doors.
She tapped out a pattern with her toe, and two mirrors extended from her shoe. They aligned themselves and allowed her to spy under the doors.
She found the pair behind the third door, speaking with their heads together. With a tap-tap-slide of her foot, the mirrors were replaced with a listening device.
“…beg you, Captain,” Miss Windthorn was saying. “Even the Sovereign Swamp Nation would be better than here.”
“Ghost, I am not dumping you alone in a swamp.”
Ethel blinked in rare surprise. This debutante was the Ghost, an infamous thief? And part of Gearlock’s crew?
The girl pressed on. “Give me a sack of air rations and the Astrolabe. I’ll be fine.”
“What kind of Captain would do that?”
“The kind who doesn’t want to lose his navigator to arranged matrimony! Not when we’re so close to Ptolemy’s prize!”
Ethel had heard enough. She picked the lock with practiced efficiency and stepped inside.
The two froze, nonplussed.
Malstrum recovered first and made a sardonic bow. “Miss Grieves. Are you here for recreational eavesdropping or family business?”
Ethel limped closer. “Eavesdropping on pirates is family business, sir.”
His eyebrow quirked up. “Takes one to know one, madam.”
She almost smiled. “We both operate by rules of our own making.” Here was a way to put Ashcroft in his place and profit the family all at once. “I offer you information and a deal. The first is free. The second will cost you.”
Kytt crossed her arms. “We’re listening.”
Ethel told them the real reason for Kytt’s quick engagement.
Malstrum cursed. “Ashcroft, that rat!” He stepped closer to Kytt.
Interesting. Maybe theirs was more than a business arrangement after all. Even if they didn’t realize it yet.
“You mentioned a deal, Miss Grieves.” Kytt stepped closer. “Will it get me out of this marriage?”
“You have Ptolemy’s Astrolabe.” Their faces went carefully blank, but Ethel was merely stating fact, not asking. “If your crew can follow it to the treasure before the wedding date, my family will arrange a financial turnaround for the Windthorn Luxury Dirigible Company.”
Kytt narrowed her eyes. “And the price?”
“Fifty percent commission on your prize.”
“Fifty?” Gearlock’s eyes widened. “That’s skyway robb—”
“Non-negotiable,” she added. “And the offer expires when I leave this room.”
The thief and the pirate exchanged a long, wordless look before turning to Ethel. “Agreed.” They each shook her hand and left, muttering with heads together again.
Ethel wondered what life would be like with such a crew, bound by mutual respect and trust, and perhaps more. She shook off the notion. Love never triumphed when wealth or power were in the game.
She limped back to the ballroom. Ashcroft wasn’t the only person her father had sent her to “dance” with this evening, and the night was young.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ooooh I loved the crossover with Kytt!! I enjoyed how intriguing this story was, and impressed by how many twists and turns it has despite its short length!
Thanks so much! It’s been such a challenge to write stories that tie together but still make sense alone. I’m glad this one worked for you 😁
So the Ghost is trying to ghost her fiancee. Too bad for Ashcroft, but I’m sure he’s glad her nickname is “Ghost” and not “Face-Kicking Arsonist Soul-Stealer”
😂 I’m sure he is!
VERY nice – great characterization and tension – kept me wondering throughout. A nice take on Ethel – and Kytt.
Thank you! 😊 They were fun to put in a room together.
Great story, Alicia! I love any story with a sturdy dirigible and a sassy spy.
Right? Winning ingredients 😄
This was such a cool story! I can’t wait to see more of Gearlock and Ghost in future stories.
Thanks! More is on the way 😁
Ahhh yesss! I’m so glad this series is continuing and that Kytt appeared in this story! Fantastic =D
Yay, glad you liked it! And there’s more to come with Kytt and Captain Gearlock 😁