He did seem perturbed that Rue had passed off the paperwork, perhaps because it now occupied the whole of that young lady’s attention. He rallied enough to ask, “Do you know the nature of your stores and local contacts, Lady Akeldama?”

Rue shook her head. “No, I have people for that.”

“Of course you do.”

“Will there be anything else, lieutenant?”

“I have the length of your stay down for one week starting tomorrow. Is that sufficient for your needs?”

“As long as I can complete my social calls during that time. May I extend if necessary?”

“Indeed, my lady. However…” He trailed off, distracted by Prim.

Rue sighed. She was used to it. “I take it most activity commences after dark, when it is cooler.”

Primrose was puzzling over a list of numbers in the margins of the paperwork.

The two customs officials tensed.

Then she moved blithely on with an obvious mental shrug.

“Sir?” Rue drew Lieutenant Broadwattle’s attention back to herself.

“Yes, after dark. Speaking of which, some of the local diplomats, their wives, and a few officers are meeting for a garden party at sunset this evening. Would you care to join us? The ambassador’s wife has authorised me to extend the invitation. I must say, we would welcome fresh faces and new society, not to mention unmarried ladies.”

“Lieutenant Broadwattle!” reprimanded Primrose, pinking in pleasure. “You go too far.” Thus proving she had not been entirely focused on the paperwork.

The young man lowered his head in mock shame.

Rue, on the other hand, did nothing to disguise her delight. She loved a garden party, and to have one materialise that very evening in an exotic land. Topping! “We should love to attend.”

“Will you bring the two gentlemen as escorts?” he asked, clearly hoping the answer would be no.

Rue hated to disappoint. “Possibly one, probably not the other, but they are difficult to predict.”

Prim finished listing relevant names and details and handed the parchment back over. “Any other customs business?”

The young man remembered his duty. “Do you have anything to declare for the record? Imports, business engagements, other taxable items? We were told that this is purely a pleasure jaunt.”

Rue and Prim shook their heads solemnly.

“I do not recommend visiting the city proper without a guide, which I would be happy to arrange. Would tomorrow early morning suit? Sun-up? It is best to get as much done as possible before the heat.”

After exchanging looks with Prim, Rue said, “That would be ideal. Will he come to the ship?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thank you very much for saving us the bother. Now, Lieutenant Broadwattle, gentlemen, if that concludes our business? I think we will take the unspoken suggestion of the entire city and return to The Spotted Custard for a nap. This heat is most oppressive.”

“Very good, ladies. I should say one gets accustomed to it, but I’ve been stationed here for nearly three years and I have yet to acclimatise.”

Primrose was impressed. “Three years? I should never have guessed.”

“You flatter me.”

Rue grabbed her friend by the elbow and popped up her parasol with purpose. Things were about to get sappy – she saw all the signs.

Reluctantly, Prim did the same. “Will we see you at the garden party, Lieutenant Broadwattle?”

“I anticipate our renewed acquaintance with pleasure,” replied the young man smoothly.

Prim continued, because she was a flirt, “As do I.”

The officer blushed and stood hastily when they did. “Welcome to India, Lady Akeldama, Miss Tunstell.” He bowed them off.

Rue and Prim twirled about, conscious that they looked as well in their expensive dresses retreating as they had done arriving, and returned across the mudflats to their gently bobbing airship.

“Must you make every man we meet fall in love with you?” Rue wanted to know, without rancour.

Prim gave this serious thought. “Yes. It’s a point of pride, you see?”

“Ah, well, carry on then.”

“Oh, but didn’t he have fine eyes? The finest, I think, I ever saw.”

The problem with Primrose was she also fell in love back. Rue could do nothing more than pat her friend’s arm sympathetically.

Everything was still and quiet on board the Custard. The decklings, cocooned in their hammocks, snored softly, and everyone else was down below in quarters. Only Spoo and Virgil sat watch, crouched under the parasol at the helm, playing a lazy game of pumpernickel and bickering softly.

They stood to attention as Rue and Prim moved slowly up the gangplank.

“All right, you two?” Rue inquired.

“Tip-top, Lady Captain,” said Spoo.

“Surviving well enough,” added Virgil, which earned him an ear-boxing from Spoo.

“Delightful company you’re keeping, Virgil,” grinned Rue.

“Delightful,” answered the valet, deadpan.

Spoo boxed his ears again, harder.

“Ow, now look here!” He turned on her.

Spoo put both hands behind her back and whistled a little tune.

Rue hustled Prim belowdecks before they were called to arbitrate.

Rue settled in for tranquil repose, difficult as that might be in the dark, oppressive stuffiness of her cabin. Graceful and well-appointed as it may be, it was not made for Indian weather. Nevertheless, she attempted to ignore both the heat and increasingly strident tones of the two directly over her head.