Nathaniel ground his teeth. “You know what I mean. Your crew members are experienced fighters. Each one has fought at the Redan at least twice. None of them are sheltered inventor’s daughters whose only close call with death was an accidental fall into the Surrey Canal when she was four years old.”
Nettie sipped her brandy, licking her lips in approval of the taste. “More than a few mites have drowned in the Camberwell Death Trap.”
“Even more have been rescued from it by vigilant nannies and parents.” He raked a hand through his hair. “That’s a ridiculous rebuttal and not at all amusing.”
Her chortle echoed in the room. “It’s funny as hell, lad.” She set aside her glass and leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. “By my lights, you’re asking a great deal and giving nothing in return. You don’t want Lenore knowing you’re alive because you don’t want to what? Interfere? Hope she’ll forget and turn her affections to another? Yet you travel from London to Maldon just to tell me not to allow her on the Pollux. You’re sounding just like a husband—alive, well, and dictating what Lenore Kenward—not Gordon mind, Kenward—should be doing.”
Nathaniel scowled. “You missed your calling. You should have been a barrister.”
Nettie gave an unapologetic shrug. “Not likely. I look terrible in a wig.”
He might have laughed if he weren’t so frustrated. He leaned forward, forearms on his thighs, and sighed. “I wanted more than anything to have her as my wife. She rejected my suit.”
Nettie straightened in her seat. “I’ve a strong suspicion that had nothin’ to do with her not loving you.”
“But everything to do with her not trusting my character.” Five years earlier, he’d sworn to himself he’d return from his trip to the Redan and beg her to explain her rejection of his proposal. But he hadn’t returned, at least not as he’d left, and that chance was lost to him now. “Ours is a permanent estrangement,” he said. “I can accept that as long as I know she’s safe.”
Nettie scrubbed at her eyes. “Lad, any number of things can kill us at any time without ever leaving our doorsteps. The churchyards are full of people dead from consumption and the Irish fever. However, if it eases your mind, I’ll tell you what I told Lenore. I’ll think about it. The Pollux sails with the Andromeda to the Redan. I have time to make my decision.” She paused and frowned.
Curious, Nathaniel leaned closer. “What is it?”
Nettie shook her head. “I’d not be telling this to anyone else, mind. This request for a post? It isn’t a lark for her. Arthur was a fine man, but he left his family with crushing debt and almost no income except a pittance inheritance for that starched up widow of his. Lenore must seek out service. Governess, companion. Airship crewman.”
Nathaniel reared back in his seat, shocked. Nettie’s revelation cast a different light on Lenore’s request and his own stringent objections to it. The Kenwards were a middle class family of means. Their house in Camberwell, with its many rooms and spacious front and back gardens, was the envy of its neighbors. Arthur’s funeral had been a lavish affair. No one could accuse Jane Kenward of besmirching her husband’s memory on that front. What had Arthur done to place his wife and daughter in such dire financial straits?
“Her knowledge of design and repair would be wasted trying to teach a baronet’s brats their letters and numbers.” He ignored Nettie’s knowing smirk.
“Aye, it would. Besides, she’s a bricky girl and learned plenty from her papa about engine design. She’d be easy to teach the hands-on stuff, and apprenticeship under a good mechanic would make her valuable to any airship crew.”
Nathaniel closed his eyes for a moment, recalling those final moments aboard the Pollux before the whiplash of a barbed tentacle bit into his flesh and flung him off the deck. The shuddering ship. He opened his eyes and met Nettie’s steady gaze. “If you take her on board, would you take me as well?”
Her face drained of color, leaving her almost as pale as he was. Her blue eyes sheened with unshed tears. “Oh Nate, my boy,” she said softly. “I just got you back.” Her rueful smile made his heart ache for her. “A little peaky and odd looking for sure, but alive. I don’t think I can bear to lose you a second time. Besides, I’m not sure having a bonekeeper onboard will sit well with the crew.”
Nathaniel clasped the chair arms in a white-knuckled grip. “Please, Nettie.”
She glanced at his hands, then at him and blew out a sigh. “Like I told Lenore, I’ll think on it.”
It would have to do for now. He knew her well enough to know if he kept pushing, she’d flat out refuse and then bodily throw him out of her quarters to hammer home her point. He stood when she did. “I imagine you never thought I’d end up guarding a bone yard.”
“Better that than lying in one.” Nettie reached up to cup his jaw. Nathaniel pressed his cheek into her palm. “If you need me for anything...” she said.
He held her hand and kissed her callused fingers. “Likewise.” He bowed and headed for the door, her goodbye to him eliciting a laugh.
“Quit robbing the barber and cut that mop!”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Two months earlier Lenore had prayed and crossed her fingers that Nettie Widderschynnes would see her way of it and give Lenore a chance to join her crew. When the airship captain returned from the Redan, she countered Lenore’s offer with one of her own. Her letter arrived in the post a week after the Pollux docked in Maldon, drafted by one of the fleet’s secretaries.
Dear Miss Kenward,
This post is addressed to you on behalf of Captain Nettie Widderschynnes of the HMA Pollux. Your request for a post aboard this airship has been reviewed and a counter consideration offered. Temporary post as cabin boy aboard the HMA Terebullum is currently available. Captain Widderschynnes will lead a training crew on a test flight of the HMA Terebellum to Gibraltar, Spain. Total flight duration is seven days to begin 12th of February, departing from Maldon Airfield. At the end of the stated flight, consideration for a more permanent post will be discussed.
She scanned the remainder of the letter, noting the deadline for a reply and immediately set to scribbling her acceptance letter. Cabin boy wasn’t quite what she’d hoped for, but it was the perfect post for someone with no experience aboard ship. Nettie could just as easily have said no and put an end to it. Lenore had no intention of questioning her good fortune. Temporary and of lowest rank it might be and on a ship not the Pollux, but she had a post.
Gaining Nettie’s short-term approval was the easy part, defying a furious Jane Kenward, a battle hard-fought and costly.
Jane read the letter, crushed the parchment in her hand and glared at Lenore over her spectacle rims. “I forbid it,” she announced in tones low and seething. High color scorched her cheekbones, and the jet beads draped over her collar juttered against each other from her rapid breathing.