have work to do.”
She whirled and began to run.
And to her outrad tfonged dismay, her plain speaking still did not dislodge the cocklebur that was her former classmate, who seemed determined to stick to her no matter what unpalatable truths she flung in her face.
“All right, so you’re insane,” Gloria panted. “But I could almost believe you. Insanity is the only thing that can explain why I’m even here. And maybe it explains some of the things I’ve heard him say—things that made no sense.”
“Everything makes sense if you have the right point of view.” Claire dove into the shadow of a building and flattened herself against the wall to catch her breath before the next leg. “Gloria, I mean it. You cannot be here.”
“A man’s life is at stake, I know. Is Father trying to have him killed?”
“He is using him as a scapegoat. He will take the blame for the explosion and be hanged in short order if we do not prevent it.”
“You need help.”
“If you are going to insult my mental capacities, you may save your breath to cool your—”
“No, I didn’t mean that. I meant, you need reinforcements. Surely you’re not taking on that mob by yourself?”
“I tried that, and failed. So now I must resort to stealth. What I need is for Penhaven to have locked him in a room to which I can gain access, like—like his lordship’s private dressing room, or Davina’s powder room, in the building where the management offices are.”
“I can do that.”
Claire stared at her with astonished contempt, but in the dark of course she could not see it. Just as well. She moderated her tone so that her utter disregard of this mooring-rope of a girl did not leak through. “Now who is the crazy one?”
“I’m serious. I’ll simply tell them I’ve a message from my father and Penhaven, and tell them to lock him in one of those places. It’s not like they have a gaol here. We’re not in the Wild West.”
“Why should they listen to you? They didn’t listen to me.”
“You haven’t been yawning through all those meetings with the management. Father doesn’t think I have a single feather in my brain, and maybe I don’t, but he makes me sit with him anyway. Family solidarity or something. But the directors know me. They might believe it—at least, for long enough that you could do … whatever it is you plan to do.”
Now it was Claire’s turn to grasp Gloria’s elbow and drag her into the light from the main square, so she could see her face properly. “Or for long enough for you to tell them to trap me, too, once my back is turned?” A spasm passed across Gloria’s pale, elegant features. “Why are you suddenly being so helpful, when it means betraying your own family?”
For a moment Gloria gazed at her, as though she were trying to remember where she’d seen her before. “You aren’t really governess to those Cockney children, are you?”
Dear heaven, the girl was unbalanced. “I really don’t have time for—”
“How did you meet them?”
Impatiently, she said, “They accosted me the night of the Arabian Bubble riots. I accosted them right back, and we came to an agreement—I would teach them their numbers and letters, and they would teach me how to survive in—in less comfortable circumstances than I had been used to. I am now their guardian—we are family. But what has that to do with Mr. Chalmers?”
“I never thought I’d learn anything from an alley mouse, especially one so rude, but …” Gloria shook her head. “Never mind. For once in my life I’m going to do what’s right instead of what’s expected of me.”
Perhaps Gloria meant to betray them all. Perhaps she was deluded. But the truth was bleak: Claire had no plan other than to trust to chance that four girls could save a man’s life. And for that, chance was not good enough.
Gloria was a gamble of a different sort.
So Claire dealt her the cards.
Chapter 22
Andrew Malvern had been dancing with Davina when the pressure wave engulfed the Margrethe, sending them both sideways and toppling over a potted plant. He had managed to roll so that her ladyship’s slender form landed on him rather than the other way round, to be followed immediately afterward by a shower bath from the punch bowl, which circled away under a table after it had deposited its contents upon them both.
His first thought, while picking orange slices off her