“I didn’t tell you to waste the fuel on some highborn snob, now did I? Get to the rendezvous point. I’ll meet you there. We’ll take off the regulators and make do.”
Lila tuned out Shirley while she gave the others more instructions. “Don’t start with me, Mother. I agreed to come to your little auction, didn’t I?” She grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing servant and took the lead, finding another perch that offered a decent view of the militia outside. She stopped, took a sip, and pretended interest in the senators.
“Yes, you barely argued at all. I’m still trying to figure out why.”
Lila ignored her. “The Rembrandt went for quite a bit.”
“As I knew it would. Ah, look, there’s Chairwoman Holguín.” Her mother smiled and inclined her head slightly. The woman in question nodded pleasantly from across the room.
“Why smile when you hate her? Why not walk over and tell her she’s a—”
“Elizabeth, don’t bait me this evening.”
“You started it. I put away my blackcoat for this. Don’t make me put away my humor.”
“What humor? Is it so hard to go out for one afternoon with your mother?”
“You didn’t want quality time. You wanted to show the other families that I’m not dead yet and prod me to find a bedmate for the season.”
“A what?” Tristan blurted over the sound of splashing.
“Focus,” Fry shouted.
The chairwoman took a sip of champagne. “Yes, I suppose I should—”
The militia stopped pacing out front.
Lila cursed under her breath. “Mother, look. The militia is running to the back of the auction house. Running very, very quickly.”
The chairwoman narrowed her eyes. “Really, Elizabeth? Commenting on the militia rather than your peers? Can’t you put away your occupation for one afternoon?”
“I suspect a robbery. I should go inspect the art.”
Lila took a step away from her mother.
The chairwoman grabbed her shoulder and snatched her back. “Think of the long game. All of highborn society is here this afternoon, and the LeBeau family insured my property for quite a sum. Their public failure is worth more than the loss of a few pieces of art. It will bankrupt the auction house, and I’ll still get a good return.”
“Couldn’t happen to nicer people.”
“Couldn’t happen to us. We should open a replacement. You’d be far more competent to run its security. Isn’t this the second robbery of LeBeau’s in the last two years?”
“The third, actually,” Lila answered as another crash sounded in her ear. “You’re really thinking about it, aren’t you?”
“When a void appears and you have the capital…”
“How much of that capital do you want to waste in security? How much do you want to throw away on art appraisers?”
“There’s always Jewel.”
“Jewel’s far too busy for a second full-time job. And when she doesn’t get a chance to engage in this new experience you’ll inevitably offer someone else, she’ll make our lives miserable.”
“Fair point.”
The crashing in Lila’s earpiece grew louder. Tristan, Fry, and Shirley must have reached the tunnel, collapsed it, and cut off LeBeau’s pursuit.
“There’s Senator Langston. We should say hello.”
Lila didn’t budge. Tristan and his people might not have gotten away. She fumbled, trying to think of an excuse not to abandon her post.