of her gown. Claire tried not to wince. “He’ll be hightailing it off this boat as quick as he can, before Penhaven finds out he’s here.”
“Or I can be polite and greet the Dunsmuirs and Count von Zeppelin.” He gave his daughter a meaningful glance. “And then, while the director is dragging me away, you might get a chance to speak with the count.”
Instead of answering, Alice proceeded to brief Claire on the particulars of what she and her father had just been discussing.
“I knew it,” Claire breathed.
“You know nothing,” Frederick said sharply. “I have asked Alice to do one thing, and one thing only. Her friends are not to be involved.”
“Gettin’ shot at don’t make us involved?” Jake asked. “Seems like we got bigger fish to fry than gettin’ the count clear of here. Wot ’appens if they go ahead wiv the sabotage anyways? More folks than just ’im could get ’urt.”
“For heaven’s sake, I will not discuss such secret matters with children!”
Jake eyed him. “Ent been a child in a long time.” Then, upon seeing Claire’s pointed gaze, reluctantly added, “Sir.”
“Give it up, Pa. We’re involved and that’s that. You can be secretive about the rest of it, but meantime, it’s our friends in danger here.”
Chalmers struggled with himself, and while he did, Claire thought aloud. “It’s safe to expect that Meriwether-Astor wants the Dunsmuirs to survive to bear the shame. Otherwise, why go to all the trouble of bringing the journalists? If they are killed, they become martyrs and the two-inch headlines will announce a state funeral instead of … whatever he is going to accuse them of.”
Chalmers let out a breath with as much exasperated noise as a steam engine. “For the last time, you must not—”
The floor jerked out from under their feet as the great flagship reeled from a sudden blow of massive force. Claire and Alice were flung into one another’s arms, while Jake fell into Chalmers’s back. The dishes slid up one side of their racks and clattered down into place again, while outside the galley, shrieks of terror and the smash and tinkle of glass told Claire that the buffet had not been so carefully engineered for bad weather.
She had just pushed herself up onto her hands and knees when a second blow struck the ship. It swooped sickeningly, as though all its mooring ropes had failed on one side and it had taken leave of the ground. With a cry, she fell against the cabinet doors. At least she had not far to fall this time.
“Alice? Are you all right? Jake?” Dear heaven, she had to get over to the Lady Lucy. “We must make certain the Mopsies are all right, and Tigg and Willie. Jake?”
A groan told her he was conscious, at least. The three of them helped each other struggle to their feet, she and Alice impeded by yards of silk and petticoats that they finally hauled up in their hands so they could find their footing.
“What was that?” Alice groaned. “An earthquake?”
“That was no earthquake.” After pulling himself to his feet, Frederick Chalmers tugged his waistcoat into place, looking grim. “That was a pressure wave—or else something happened to the gas bags within the fuselage. There will have been an explosion, and close by, too.”
Bruised, sore, they tumbled out of the little galley. When they entered the saloon, Claire realized how much luck had been on their side. For the galley had protected them in a way that the large room full of loose objects had not protected the dancers, musicians, and other guests and crew of the Margrethe.
Chalmers gripped his daughter’s hand. “Are you really all right?”
“Yes, Pa. I’ll have a big bruise on my behind tomorrow. Not like these other poor folks—where are the count’s medics?”
But Chalmers was not to be distracted. “You must get von Zeppelin off the ship and out of here. Ten to one this is merely a distraction and he is the real target.”
“But Pa—”
“Quick, Alice. There is no time to lose. I’m going out to see what happened.”
Claire caught Jake’s eye and the boy followed him out without a word, quick as a footpad, weaving in and out of the dazed men and women in formal dress who were making for the gangways, instinctively seeking solid ground. The medics, who were coming through from the crew deck with their bags, began to work on the fallen and injured.
The Dunsmuirs were on their feet, and appeared to be having strong words