Free Gilded Lily by Delphine Dryden Page B

story, apparently. They’d been waiting for him this morning along with the keys to a reasonably fashionable steam car for longer excursions. Everything a young man-about-town might need.
    â€œFather has spared no expense in outfitting my latest suitor, I see,” was Miss Murcheson’s comment once they were moving along again and past the risk of being overheard.
    â€œHe’s certainly made me plausible,” Barnabas agreed. “If I last, he said he’d arrange a house for me, as well. As my family no longer maintains a London residence, I have to admit it’s welcome. Saves me the time of finding a place to let and a decent livery. And this probably does a great deal to restore your status on the marriage mart. Having a well-bestowed chap such as myself so eager to ignore his business obligations and drive out with you instead.” He spoke with a cheer that was not entirely false. It was far from an unpleasant task to take this drive, and throwing himself into the role of ardent suitor was still the best way to go about it.
    â€œHe said, humbly,” she retorted. “I have no desire to restore my status on the marriage mart. But more importantly, you fell asleep again on the way home last night and never told me the rest of your brother’s story.”
    He glanced around automatically, paranoid about the proximity of the surrounding carriages. Nobody was close, and aside from a few curious glances at the new lordling from the Dominions, nobody seemed to be paying them any attention. Most of the talk he’d caught centered on last night’s earthquake, which the members of the
ton
seemed to consider a bit of a thrill. The morning paper reported three dockworkers dead from a building collapse. Barnabas suspected the rank and file were less than thrilled by the quake, and he wondered how any of them would respond if they knew a much larger quake had been predicted to occur soon. Or so Miss Murcheson claimed to have overheard. Such news might cause a panic, even among the jaded aristocracy.
    â€œI shouldn’t have told you what I did about Phineas. I was exhausted and delusional.”
    â€œI saw the poppy on that submersible too. It was no delusion.”
    â€œYes. But perhaps it was simply an old mark, or a coincidence. It can’t be Orm. When I left the Dominions he was still incarcerated. Isolated. No communication with the outside world, not so much as a carrier pigeon.”
    She pulled a fan from somewhere about her person and snapped it open, waving it prettily in front of her face as she thought. “You thought of this man Orm and your brother instantly. One should always trust one’s first instincts. And what about the whiskers?”
    â€œWhat whiskers?”
    â€œOn the submersible. If that wasn’t some sort of sensor array, my name’s not Fred Merchant.”
    â€œYour name
isn’t
Fred Merchant.”
    â€œYou know exactly what I mean. The point is, there was some sort of nonstandard equipment, and that was no military vessel. You knew that instantly, and I must concur. What’s more, I’ve consulted a map my father had handy—”
    â€œHe had it handy? Just lying about in a parlor, I suppose?”
    â€œDon’t interrupt, please. I have my ways. If we were where I estimate we were, that part of the channel is supposed to be off-limits to all but the military. There’s a narrow passage for commercial vessels into the estuary, but most of it was never opened up after the war ended. Not so much as a fisherman squeaks by. The military doesn’t like to cede ground or water once it controls it. But if that was a civilian sub we saw, and it had some sort of underwater sensor attached, perhaps a proximity detector . . . well, it could be using that to sneak past the Navy patrols.”
    â€œThat would definitely give the smugglers an advantage,” he admitted. It would allow one smuggler the drop