The dewan said, “I think we can move him now.”
“I have a suggestion,” said Sophronia. “If we could find some coal and get that train up and running—why not just take it north, as we intended? You can travel during the day and night that way, and won’t lose time tonight while Soap sleeps. You’ll have to take Sidheag with you, of course. She knows how to drive the train.”
The dewan was intrigued despite himself. “I could declare the train property of the Crown. Vampires stashed some fancy tech on it, you say? Well, if the Picklemen want it, might be a good idea to hide it away in Scotland.”
Sophronia heartily agreed. “Give the transmitter to Kingair. It’ll be safe in werewolf hands. It’ll be a little while before the pack leaves, correct? By then they will have made it impossible for the Picklemen or the vampires to retrieve it.”
The dewan was looking at Sophronia with new eyes. “I see what you mean, Captain.”
Sophronia continued to stroke Soap’s fur, unconcerned by this scrutiny.
The dewan surprised her, though. “While you have been plotting, little miss, so have I.” He turned to look at Sidheag, who was sitting only slightly too close to Captain Niall.
“It seems all this bother is because I ignored your request to join the pack, Lady Kingair. I realize now that even if I order you back to that school, you’ll keep running away. Send the pack off to India and next thing I know, you’ll stow away on a steamer.”
Sidheag gave him an enigmatic look.
Sophronia watched this exchange from under lowered lids.
“You’re a little young for marriage,” said the dewan. His eyes were speculative.
Sidheag looked startled at that.
“But I think a long engagement would cover all but the sternest of societal sticklers. If you’re in foreign climes, no one will notice how long you take, and if you’re married by the time you get back, no one will be the wiser. Overseas campaigns can take decades.”
Everyone was looking confused.
Sidheag said, “I don’t follow, my lord.”
“I’ll send the announcement to the Chirrup,” said the dewan to Captain Niall.
Captain Niall nodded. He didn’t look upset, only resigned.
Sidheag cottoned on at last. “Oh, dear me no! I mean, I couldn’t. I mean, I couldn’t force him into anything. What an awful thing to do!”
“Enough. You cannot object to an arranged marriage. You, a single young lady, wish to take up residence with a pack of werewolves. Lord Maccon is gone, and in the absence of blood relations, you at least must be engaged!” The dewan was not to be argued with. Not again in the same night.
Dimity piped up with, “He’s right, you know, Sidheag. And you could always cry off later, I mean overseas, if you really wanted to.”
Sidheag looked sideways at the handsome werewolf captain. “You don’t object?”
Captain Niall said, face impassive, “It’s a fair arrangement, and Miss Plumleigh-Teignmott is correct. It would help to cement my claim to Kingair Pack leadership, if I were engaged to the Lady of Kingair.”
“That sounds sensible enough,” replied Sidheag, sounding a little disappointed.
Then the werewolf smiled at her, shyly. “You’re far too young for me, of course. But with a long engagement, perhaps I might be given the chance to earn your affection?”
Sidheag ducked her head, self-conscious. “I’d like that.”
The dewan looked self-satisfied, as if he’d suspected this result.
Dimity sighed at the romance of it all. “Imagine, a long overseas engagement, how marvelous!”
Sophronia’s heart sank a little. First Soap and now Sidheag. Life was going to be lonely at Mademoiselle Geraldine’s. But she was excited for her friend; after all, this was what Sidheag wanted—to be with her pack.
The dewan slapped his hands together and rubbed them, the clapping sound jarring in the damp night. “Good, that’s settled, then. Now I’m going to go see about some coal for this train of yours. Captain, if you’ll get the party there and settled? Ladies”—he looked severely at Dimity and Sophronia—“I’ll buy you two first-class tickets back to Wootton Bassett at the next station. And some proper attire.”
Considering the fact that he was still naked, both girls giggled.
The dewan trudged off into the night, to change shape behind a bush somewhere.
Captain Niall stood and, like a proper suitor, kept his top hat held in the defensive position. He turned to offer Sidheag his free hand. “My lady?”
Sidheag took it, graciously. Her long, angular face wore an expression of wonder that made it almost handsome. Whatever this relationship she develops with Captain Niall becomes, it will alter her forever. It wasn’t so awful a thing that Sidheag would not be returning to Mademoiselle Geraldine’s. She doesn’t need finishing school anymore, anyway.
Dimity bumped against Sophronia. “Don’t be sad, you still have me and Bumbersnoot.”
Captain Niall let go of Sidheag’s hand and scooped up Soap’s limp wolf body with one arm. He’d recovered entirely from his own bullet wound. Even though Sophronia knew from experience that Soap was no lightweight, Captain Niall made it look easy. Soon Soap, too, would boast that casual werewolf strength. Soon Soap, too, would have that controlled, powerful way of moving. Would he tie a top hat to his head? Sophronia wondered.
She and Sidheag and Dimity trailed behind the captain back to the train.
“An arranged marriage. Sidheag, are you certain you don’t mind?” asked Sophronia.
“Who else would have me?” joked Sidheag.
Dimity said, “You have excellent standing!”
“And that’s about all I have.”
“Do stop being silly,” reprimanded Sophronia, perhaps too sharply. She was exhausted by the physical and emotional trials of the last few days.
Sidheag replied, startled into honesty. “He understands me, I understand him. Good marriages have been built on less.”
“Why, Sidheag, could it be you are a little enamored with the good captain already?” Dimity’s eyes shone.
Sidheag said, gruff and sharp, “Of course I am. Who at the school isn’t?”
Sophronia understood that it wasn’t her own feelings that worried Sidheag. “He will learn to love you. You’re quite worthy of it.”
“The way he cared for you after the masquerade, I rather think he fancies you already.” Dimity was disposed to be less practical on the matter.