Quesnel did not look surprised at the sudden appearance of his mother in this particular conversation. Rue wondered if that meant that Madame Lefoux made a habit of corrupting young ladies with cognac.
Rue blinked in amazement. “Your mother shared this habit with you?”
“Not exactly. Percy and I used to sneak a sip upon occasion, because we weren’t supposed to.”
“Percy drinks cognac?”
“Ladies,” rasped Percy, “I’m walking right here.”
Rue and Prim ignored him.
Prim said smugly, “Well, yes, old Percy’s very cultured in the matter of spirits.”
“Madness.” I guess one can still learn something new about friends of twenty years. “Clearly I’m going to have to instruct our cook to stock cognac.”
Primrose looked at her brother thoughtfully. He glared back, eyes still watering slightly. “Perhaps not the best idea. Percy has been known to overindulge.”
“Still right here,” he said.
Rue and Prim continued to ignore him.
“Percy gets looped?” Rue hooted.
“Yes, rather like now.”
Percy drew himself up and said with considerably dignity, “I am not at all looped. It’s simply that I don’t like chilli peppers.”
“I should like to see Percy looped,” commented Rue, meaning it.
Quesnel took a strange sort of pity on Percy. “Are they always like this around you, old man?”
Percy was morose. “My whole life.”
Quesnel said, “No wonder you’re so deranged.”
Percy sniffed. “Thank you very much.”
“It’s a wonder you don’t drink more cognac.” Quesnel didn’t bother to hide his grin.
Percy sighed. “Yes, well, if you’ve all had enough fun teasing poor old Percy for one evening?”
“It never gets old,” answered his sister.
The tide had progressed inward, causing The Spotted Custard to tie in closer to the promenade, making their walk back shorter than their walk out. The hot evening had become almost temperate, quite bearable. Rue was enjoying herself – she’d met Dama’s contact, received a code, uncovered possible scandal from her parents’ past, and encountered long-lost relations. Not to mention the fact that there had been a kidnapping recently. India, she thought, was turning out to be a delightful place.
Unfortunately, when they arrived back at the ship things took a turn for the worse. They could not board, for the gangplank was hauled in. Arranged up on the main deck was a row of fierce-looking sooties, decklings and Greaser Phinkerlington, all armed with slings and other projectiles. Down below, standing on the shore, trying to look like he didn’t care, was a man.
“’Ware, Lady Captain,” shouted Spoo, the moment they were within earshot. “We got us an uninvited vampire.”