Free Chasing the Star Garden: The Airship Racing Chronicles (Volume 1) by Melanie Karsak Page B

and only a large desk, sat in the very middle of the space. “Lord Byron worked here when he was in residence,” he added proudly.
    I nodded, and for a brief moment, envisioned Byron laboring over the desk, his dark curls falling into his eyes as they were sometimes apt to do. I smiled.
    “This way.” Vittorio led us upstairs and showed us each to a bedroom. We arranged to have dinner in a couple of hours, and Vittorio left. Angus and Jessup, examining their lodgings, grinned like school children. My room, which was the same Byron stayed in when he was in Venice, as Vittorio had informed me, looked out onto the canal. Double glass doors opened to a magnificent vista. The heavenly smell of lilies filled the room. The bedroom was papered with red brocade that was torn in the corners. Gauzy white fabric draped the tall, four-poster bed.
    Since the men were settling in, I was alone. I took a drop of laudanum and stood in the opened doorway overlooking the canal. Gondoliers poled passengers and crates up and down the green-blue canal waters. As one singing gondolier passed, he tipped his hat at me and called out what sounded like a compliment. I blew him a kiss, and he smiled. Moments later, Jessup and Angus burst into the room behind me.
    “Can you believe this, Lil?” Jessup said excitedly.
    “My màthair would not believe her eyes,” Angus added, pulling Jessup and me both into a hug as we stood looking out at the Canal.
    “Gents, just think. If we can start pulling first place wins, we could really live like this from time to time,” I said.
    Angus and Jessup both turned serious. “If we place first in Valencia and then in Paris, and if Cutter drops to third at least once, we can pull it off,” Jessup said.
    “Cutter doesn’t race well in Valencia. This year we might take him,” Angus added.
    “We need modifications,” I said. “I saw Souvenir in Zurich. He was getting work done to his ship. We need to consider what we can do to reconfigure the Stargazer . Truth is, we need more speed.”
    Sal, who had been leaning against the door frame and listening to the conversation, spoke up. “In Master Vogt’s workshop he showed me a reconfiguration of one of the propulsion gears which requires less muscle to give speed, using centrifugal force over raw power. May I draw it and show you, Angus?”
    Angus looked at Sal, and the look on Angus’ face told me that in that moment he’d finally figured out what Sal was all about. Sal was arrogant. And Sal did offer more suggestions than were needed, but Sal was also a genius.
    “Let’s have it. In fact, why don’t we adjourn to the drawing room and further consider the matter,” Angus said, putting on a mock sophisticated accent that made us all laugh.
    With that, the four of us spent the next two hours huddled over a table as Sal and Angus considered what could be done to reconfigure the Stargazer . The smell of food wafting in from the kitchens on the first floor had my stomach aching. When Vittorio returned to tell us it was time to eat, I was grateful.
    Vittorio opened the doors to the dining room to reveal a table heaped with a sprawling array of Venetian cuisine. Footmen dressed in grey uniforms with silver buckles seated each of us. Vittorio presented our meal. As he went over each dish, a footman poured us all bowls of brodo di pesce, a fish soup with saffron, and glasses of white wine. At the very center of the table was what he called an antipasto de frutti de mare, a massive plate of seafood from the lagoon dressed with lemon and Italian olive oil.
    “A favorite of Lord Byron,” he told us.
    Also on the table were Venetian style sardines, carpacci, muscles cooked in wine, heaps of fresh fruit, bread, and a dish called baccalà manteceta. “You might like this one, Scotsman,” Vittorio told Angus. “It is salted cod minced with oil, garlic, and herbs.”
    Angus looked hungrily at the food, eyeing the salted fish dish in particular.
    “Let us toast,”