“Sixty-five fathoms.”
“Impossible,” Thom said flatly. That was almost four hundred feet.
“Not for you. The infected are less prone to the divers’ disease.”
“But not immune to it, and there’s more than that to worry about. Any deeper than a hundred, and even men with bugs can black out, like they’re swimming drunk. I’ve felt a bit of that myself. What you’re asking is a hundred feet farther than I’ve ever gone, and that was deeper than I should have.”
“Deeper than you should have, yet you’re alive now. So you could have gone deeper.” The bastard stepped back, his hand dropping to the pistol tucked into his belt. “I will keep it simple for you, Big Thom. Dive for the gold, or you’ll watch me put a bullet in your wife’s head. Then I’ll put one in yours.”
Rage swallowed any response Thom could have made. Only sheer will kept him in place—and fear of what would happen to Georgiana if he ripped this bastard apart where he stood. The Winch woman had been standing guard outside the stateroom door when he’d left. If Thom did anything here, he wouldn’t be able to get back to Georgiana in time to save her.
“Return to your cabin now. Talk to your wife. Sleep on your decision, if you must. But at sunrise, you’re going into the water. Your only choice is whether you’ll be dead or alive, and whether your wife goes with you.”
There was no decision to make. Georgiana was right: some chance was better than none. And if his submersible was still bolted to Oriana’s deck, maybe their chances would be better yet.
“I’ll dive,” he said. “So let me see the equipment you’ve got.”
Georgiana attempted to remain calm while Thom was gone, but she ended up pacing the floor until he returned. She didn’t wait for him to close the door before asking, “What does he want you to do?”
“Dive.”
She’d already guessed that. “Dive for what?”
“Oriana.”
His ship? Georgiana stared at him, expecting him to tell her it was a joke. But it was even funnier if true—and his grin told her that it was. She burst into laughter, shaking her head.
He unbuckled his coat, glanced around the stateroom. “I told them to bring me the suit and hose so that I can look them over. They’ll be coming with those and a tub.”
To make certain everything was watertight. “How deep is the wreck?”
“One hundred feet.”
Deep, though not horrifyingly so. And still dangerous. Most wrecks went down in the shallows, where giant eels and young sharks and sharp rocks threatened to tear into a man or into his air hose. The dangers of the open sea were not worse or better. Just different.
And now she watched Thom’s gaze slide away from her face, as if there were something he meant to conceal. But she could imagine what it was. “Did he threaten to kill me if you didn’t go down?”
His gaze snapped back to hers. “Yes. But I’ll kill him before he touches you.”
“I know.” That had never been in question. Knowing that he was diving for Oriana, however, raised another one. “Was your submersible aboard? Is there room enough for two?”
“Yes. And I was thinking the same.” Striding to the wardrobe, he hung his coat on a hook and dragged off his hat. His short hair stuck up every which way. He ran his gloved palm over his head once, as if to smooth down the strands. It didn’t help.
Well, she would not help him. Georgiana rather liked this wild look. “Do you think it’s a better option than a boat?”
“I do.”
“What of the megalodons? Sound will carry better through a metal hull. It might attract their attention.”
“She runs quiet. Just the propellers and whatever noise we make. But either way is a risk, boat or submersible. We have to decide which we like better.” His expression grave, he stopped close, looking down at her. “If we took a boat, it wouldn’t be anything for this airship to come after us. They’d spot us on the water and that would be the end of it. But if we’re under the surface, we’d be out of their sight.”
So they would have to weigh the uncertain chance of attack from an enormous shark against the certainty of being caught again. Georgiana knew which risk she’d rather take. “What of the air? Without another vessel, we couldn’t use a pump or hose.”
“We’d come up when we needed it, open the top hatch to let in the fresh air. Then go down again before they could catch up to us. It wouldn’t take long before they’d lost us completely.”
Georgiana nodded. “How will you bring it up from Oriana?”
“I wouldn’t have to. If she’s still full of air, she’ll pop up to the surface as soon as I release the bolts. The question would be when to dive for her.”
So that they could avoid anyone on the airship knowing they had a mode of escape. It would have to be at night—but that would make seeing anything underwater almost impossible.
A sharp knock sounded at the door. The equipment had arrived. They would have to discuss this more later.
For now, her only task would be to assist him in checking and rechecking every seal and valve, and every inch of that hose. Lord Pinchpenny would use a threat against her to make Thom go down. She would help make certain that he came back up alive.
FIVE
Lord Pinchpenny threatened their lives . . . then sent Mrs. Winch to invite them to dinner in his cabin.
Georgiana debated whether to refuse, and saw the same struggle in Thom. But in the end, refusal didn’t seem worth the risk, and she told Mrs. Winch that they would join him as soon as they’d washed up. With a sigh, she rose from her kneeling position beside the tub, where she and Thom had just rolled up their sleeves and begun running the long coil of air hose through the water to check for leaking bubbles.
With shorter sleeves and a bit of lace at the scooped neckline, her pink cotton dress seemed most suitable for dinner, but she wouldn’t wear it for Lord Pinchpenny’s sake. She only wanted to please Thom—and she changed into the dress to please Thom, too, though she wasn’t quite bold enough to face him after she unfastened the blue wool and stood in front of the wardrobe, clothed only in her chemise and stockings. Her cheeks felt as pink as her dress when she tugged everything into place, but the burning in his eyes when she turned around was worth every moment of embarrassment.
He must have watched her the entire time. When she’d left him by the tub, he’d been rolling down the right sleeve of his linen shirt. Though several minutes had passed, the left sleeve was still bunched up over his steel elbow.
She glanced at his hands. “You’d best finish covering those.”
The sound he made in response might have been a yes but emerged more like a primitive grunt.
Smiling, she moved to the mirror and began repinning her hair. In the reflection, she watched him pull on his woven gansey, followed by the gloves. Oh, but he was such a handsome, incredible man. Every part of her felt more alive when he was near.
And though Georgiana liked his hair wild, she would like this even more. “Have a seat. You could use a good combing.”
“I can do it.”
“I know. But I want to.”
That seemed good enough reason for Thom. But Georgiana’s true reason was that it gave her an excuse to move in between his knees when he sat on the edge of the bed, and stand with her body close to his. He would only have to lean forward to pillow his cheek upon her breast. His gaze had settled there instead, his lips parted, as if the shadow of her cleavage was an entrancing thing.