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his chair.
    “Shocking, Lady Abigail, most shocking,” he said with a small shake
of his head. “May I express my admiration of your courage and fortitude, My
lady.”
    “Thank you,” Abigail replied. “It is as nothing.” Not when
compared to shooting a crazed assassin in your underwear, she thought. She had
mentioned nothing of the attack; something told her not to.  “If the crew of the
Wind Dancer had not succored me, I shudder to contemplate my fate.”
    “Quite so,” Preemus agreed. “And so here you are.” He spread
his hands.
    “And so here I am,” Abigail agreed. She sat her cup down,
turning to face the man squarely. “While I do appreciate the meal, Mr. Preemus,
you promised me information about my father that 'would be to my advantage' I
believe you said.”
    “Ah yes,” Preemus sat his own cup down. “Do you know where your
father currently is Lady Hadley?” Abigail raised an eyebrow at him.
    “I thought that was something you were going to tell me, Mr.
Preemus,” she replied archly.
    “I am quite aware that you have been careful not to mention
your reasons for being here in China Lady Abigail,” He smiled thinly as Abigail
stiffened. He leaned towards her confidentially. “A friend of mine answered a
call for help from Lord Robert recently. He was also secretive as to the
reasons. Now both your father and my friend are not to be found. If you know
where they are, I would advise you to tell me.” Preemus looked at her, his grey
eyes now grown cold as chips of granite.
    “I know nothing of this 'friend' you mention,” Abigail replied
with a frowned. “Nor do I know the whereabouts of my father.”
    “Do you not?” Preemus pressed. “No secret messages? No planned rendezvous?
The time for games is past Lady Abigail. I believe that both my friend and your
father may be in grave danger.”
    “I tell you I know nothing,” Abigail retorted angrily.
    They were interrupted by a soft knock on the dining room door.
Abigail slid her hand towards her thigh, while noticing that Preemus' right
hand moved to hover near the opening of his coat.
    “Yes, what is it?” Preemus called out crossly. The door opened
to reveal the stalwart Charles, his oriental face carefully bland.
    “Please forgive the intrusion,” he said with a bow. “I have two
. . . persons outside claiming that they have a trunk for Lady Hadley from the
airship Wind Dancer. They insist that they must surrender it to her personally.”
Abigail thought furiously for a moment. Perhaps Captain Will or Saira would be
willing to help her. She certainly felt she needed help after the attack.
    “Very well, Charles,” she said calmly. “Please ask them to
wait. I shall be there presently.” The man nodded, closing the door as he left.
Abigail casually turned back to Preemus.
    “As I was about to say,” she pounced, “if I did know such
things why should I tell you, Mr. Preemus? You claim that my father is in
danger. How do I know that he is not in danger from you? Who are you, sir? And
who is this mysterious 'friend'? And do not take me for a simpleton, and say
that you are merely the Governors secretary. I doubt that the position requires
you to go armed.” She glanced pointedly at his right hand. “I doubt it very
much, sir.” Preemus moved his right hand away from his coat, looking
momentarily chagrined.
    “You might be surprised what is required of a secretary in a
place such as Hong Kong, Lady Abigail,” Preemus retorted somewhat sharply. He leaned
back comfortably.
    “You ask blunt questions My Lady, I shall be equally blunt,” he
said shortly. “You are treading in deep waters here. Hong Kong is not
Cambridge. While your tale reveals that you are a woman of extraordinary
mettle, I submit that these matters are beyond you. There comes a time, Lady
Abigail, when you must decide whom to trust. I ask you to trust me.” He said
this last with a sincerity she almost believed.
    Abigail studied him. He was a striking