“Mr. King, I have my orders,” the man declared, his voice quaking. “My timetable is set.” Adam frowned. “Queen Victoria herself wrote out your little schedule? Is that what you’re telling me?” Catching sight of Emma striding toward them, he straightened. By the set of her jaw, he could see she was in no mood for nonsense. “Is there a problem, Mr. King?” Emma asked. “Seems the train isn’t scheduled to leave Tsavo station until tomorrow morning. Mr. Perkins here is the engineer and he says he can’t make a change without permission.” “Permission from whom?” “Mr. Bond makes out the schedule.” Perkins edged toward Emma. “We depart for the coast at eight in the morning.” “But I cannot wait until morning,” she informed him. “In deference to my father, once commissioner of this railway, I beg you to set off at once.
