Heart of Steel - Meljean Brook [68]
“Good. We’ll be in Vienna tomorrow morning; you can start your work then, God willing.” With effort, the older man stood, his heavy breath resonating deeply in his chest. “Forgive me. I’d hoped to have more opportunity to sit with you before I joined the captain for dinner, but the business with the reward has cut into that time. Perhaps tomorrow, you will take the midday meal here with me.”
“We will,” Archimedes said.
Hassan’s gaze moved to Yasmeen, then to the kerchief over her hair. Though the tips of her ears were concealed beneath the blue silk, she had no doubt that he’d recognized what she was.
He smiled faintly. “You are a surprise to me, Captain Fox. I am tempted to throw diplomacy away and miss dinner in the captain’s cabin simply so that I can discover more about you.”
Miss the captain’s dinner the first night aboard Ceres, after he’d brought an insult to the captain aboard, and allowed Archimedes to destroy a possible hundred-livre reward? “You flatter me,” she said. “But you are too wise to be tempted at all.”
Hassan’s smile broadened. “There are times I wish I could be the fool—especially when I face a night spent soothing ruffled feathers.”
“It is too late. I have taken the part of the fool,” Archimedes said, coming around the table and sliding his hand into hers. “I have already succumbed to temptation and will spend the night basking in her presence. Come, my wife. A fine meal awaits us.”
It had been some time since Yasmeen had eaten with an aviator crew, but the messes on an airship’s berth deck were all the same. Long tables ran down the center of the deck. Benches on either side provided seats. Farther aft, beyond a set of paneled partitions that provided little privacy, rows of bunks lined the sides of the deck.
Silence fell when Archimedes and Yasmeen climbed down the ladder, though the aviators must have known they were coming; word of the altercation with Guillouet as they’d boarded would have swept through the crew before she and Archimedes had settled in their cabin. Eighteen men sat at the table—only the deck crew on watch was missing. She saw curiosity, irritation, a refusal to meet her eyes. All right. She wasn’t sure whether each of those reactions was because she was a woman or because she was Captain Corsair, but she’d figure it out soon enough.
But whether these men considered themselves her enemy, it was always best not to make an enemy of a cook. Though the stew slopped onto her tin plate wouldn’t have been fed to her crew, Yasmeen smiled and said thank you.
Archimedes walked with her to the table. She’d already told him who to sit by, if possible—the first mate had influence over the other aviators, and they’d already made his acquaintance. With his charming grin in place, Archimedes stopped beside the big man with the bruise over his eye.
“Last night, I thought you hit me so hard I saw double. Now I know it’s not true.”
The first mate laughed and made room on the bench. Across from him, his twin did the same. “I wish I’d known I was fighting Archimedes Fox. I’d have shined my knuckles up a bit.”
Yasmeen took the seat next to him as Archimedes rounded the table. The first mate glanced at her, but though she’d taken twice as many men down in the brawl, he didn’t invite her into the joke as he had Archimedes. That was all right. They didn’t have to feel comfortable with her. She was here to observe and listen, not to make friends.
She picked up a powder biscuit, broke it in half, and stared. It was wormy.
The mutter came from farther down the table. “Captain thinks she’s too good for us.”
No, worms didn’t bother her—she simply didn’t understand why an airship carried infested supplies. Unlike a ship that spent weeks between ports, an airship could refill their stores easily.
She bit off a chunk, searching for any unusual flavors. The barley and salted-beef stew had already begun to congeal. The watered-down grog tasted like shit, but it was all safe to eat—and all from