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cheeks. Prosthetics and mechanical apparatuses were so common in England as to be unremarkable. But in the New World, such topics were handled with delicacy, if not outright avoided. Her insensitive comment must have distressed him, though he hid it well. Perhaps that was an indication of his fine manners; he didn’t point out her lack of them, though he had every reason to.
    She had long come to terms with her failings, but Annika hated knowing that she might have hurt someone with them. “I am sosorry. How horrid of me to make light of injuries that must have been painful.”
    He shrugged. “And long ago.”
    Was he dismissing the topic or her apology? He didn’t seem distressed, but rather uninterested in discussing himself—and examining her features as if interested in
her
. Well, if he wanted to know what sort of woman she was, he was soon to learn that she had difficulty letting anything go without proper resolution.
    “Whenever it happened, I am sorry for my words now,” she said. “I’m often told that I don’t possess any proper sensibilities, but that doesn’t excuse—”
    “Who tells you this?”
    “Everyone,” she said ruefully, and the stranger laughed before subjecting her to a considering look.
    “If you wish to make amends,” he said, “eat supper with me now.”
    That was
not
an offer she expected to come from someone with manners. Not offended, but incredibly surprised, she shook her head. “Pardon? I believe I misheard.”
    “Share a meal with me at the inn,” he said unmistakably, before softening his expression with a smile. “I wouldn’t take advantage of a woman’s obligation to me, but I have no choice. If you leave this evening, I’ll have no other opportunity to enjoy your company, and I want to know you better.”
    The intensity of his gaze deepened as he spoke, as if the entirety of his being had focused on gaining her consent. Annika stared up at him, uncertain how to respond. She’d have liked to spend more time with him, too. She wanted to know why he chased volcanoes, and what had possessed him to come to her aid—and there was nothing that forbade her from sharing a meal with someone. But her instincts were ringing, and she couldn’t ignore the alarm they raised. She had been propositioned before. She’d been flirted with before. This was…different. Though she couldn’t have articulatedwhy she felt the need to be wary, Annika was certain that this man wanted something from her—but not company, not courting, not even to share a bed.
    “I’m sorry,” she said, feeling very stiff. “The captain has asked that we all return to the airship early, so that we’re aboard before the storm hits.”
    He nodded, but she saw the clench of his jaw, the frustration that suddenly shadowed his expression. Annika continued her brisk pace. The stranger remained at her side, but as they crossed from the cobblestones onto the wooden docks, the rumble of lorry engines and the shouts of the stevedores made further conversation impossible. Annika walked in silence, her thoughts in tumult. Perhaps she’d been mistaken? Perhaps she was only wary because his offer had been so unexpected. Perhaps she’d just insulted him again.
    If so, nothing could be done now. With relief, she reached
Phatéon
’s mooring station. The cargo lift had been raised against the side of the airship, but the ladder hung down to the docking boards.
    Annika stopped and folded her umbrella before turning to the stranger, who had tilted his head back to look up at the airship. She had to tilt her head back to look at
him
. Oh, he was quite tall—and so close. Rarely did Annika feel small, but standing next to him, she did. “Thank you again.”
    His gaze lowered. Though his smile had not returned, she thought he seemed pleased. Satisfied, perhaps. “You travel aboard
Phatéon
? I’ve heard that she’s a fine ship.”
    “Yes.” She caught the rope ladder, steadied it. “Very fine.”
    He nodded.