Fenella J Miller (8 page)

The other two couples were
aristocratic friends from London, very high in the instep, and not at all impressed
by Ned’s choice of bride. Penny decided she much preferred the down-to-earth
Remingtons
. She was pleased her future husband counted a
local squire as a friend for she was certain that his top-lofty friends would
not deign to include such folk in their circle.

She was changing out of her
riding habit into an afternoon dress of buttercup-yellow, spotted muslin when
she heard Ned’s voice in her parlour. ‘Quickly, Mary, Lord Weston is waiting.’

‘Stand still, miss, and it will
only take a second to tie the sash. There – all done.’

She flew from the room her skirts
swirling around her feet revealing her embroidered stockings and matching
yellow pumps.

‘Ned, is something wrong? I
thought we were to meet in the library with Mr Weston at four o’clock?’

‘We are, my darling. But I
couldn’t wait.’ He was standing with his back to the window and the sun made
his russet hair appear like a circle of fire around his head.

‘You’re lucky that I’m ready
early. I believe I’m unique in this respect.’ She ran across to greet him and
he picked her up and spun her round like a child, laughing down at her.

‘Put me down, Ned. You’re making
me giddy.’

In answer he allowed her to slide
down his chest, the contact making them both breathless. ‘Look out of the
window, Penny. I have a surprise for you.’

Obediently she turned her head.
‘The balloon!
They are setting it up on the lawn. Are there
to be flights today?’

‘Not today, Penny. It will not be
inflated until this evening.’ He pulled her close to his side, his arm firmly
around her waist. ‘You remember your promise? I want us to be the first to go
up. Are you still happy to meet me at dawn tomorrow? The best time to ascend is
when the air is still.’

She was about to refuse but
seeing the look of boyish enthusiasm on his face decided she would do as he
asked. ‘Very well, but don’t ask me to make a habit of it. This will be the one
and only ascent that I make.’

After dinner the guests assembled
on the terrace to watch Ducray and his men finishing their preparations. The
balloon was winched down, inflated a little more, then returned to the end of
its rope, about 300 feet above the ground, where it danced and swayed like an
oversized ballerina.

The wind dropped and the aerostat
hung in the navy sky, a huge gaudy sphere, through which the last rays of the
sun shone, giving it a ghostly luminescence. Penny thought it looked quite
magical, like something from another realm. She was almost looking forward to
her ascent at dawn the next day.

Chapter Eight

‘Is it dawn already, Mary? I seem
to have only just closed my eyes.’

‘It is, miss.
And
a fine clear one too.
The weather is set fair, not a breath of wind out
this morning.’ Her maid dressed her hair simply, half piled on top of her head,
the rest tumbling loose down her back, cream and yellow ribbons threaded
through. The scooped neckline of her long-sleeved gown was edged with tiny
yellow satin roses, and larger versions of the rose encircled the hem. Even the
slippers were similarly decorated. The outfit was perfectly complemented by a
pretty chip-straw bonnet lined with yellow silk and tied with a matching
ribbon. She wondered if it was going to prove too flimsy for her excursion
skywards.

‘I must take my cloak. Lord
Weston says it’s always chilly aloft.’

‘I shall bring it down for you,
miss. Carrying it will spoil the line of your gown.’

‘Thank you. And you can stay and
watch if you wish. Lady Dalrymple will be there as well, if she has woken up in
time.’

Penny nodded at her reflection,
satisfied she had done her best. She wasn’t exactly an antidote but neither, in
her opinion, was she a diamond of the first water. However dressed as she was,
she knew she could not fail to please him.

 
She ran down the stairs and sped through the
strangely hushed house. The side door was open; Ned was obviously here before
her. She paused to twitch her skirt into place, check that her sash was tied
correctly,
her
bonnet straight and then stepped out
into the silvery-grey light. Were those voices she could hear? Her aunt was
waiting on the terrace to greet her.

‘Good morning, my dear. Is it not
a perfect day to celebrate your engagement properly?’

‘Indeed it is; thank you for
taking the trouble to come down and watch.’ Penny hurried over and hugged her,
shocked at how insubstantial the old lady had become.

From the terrace she scanned the
rolling parkland. She could see the balloon was two thirds inflated and secured
at ground level by four stout ropes attached to iron anchors. A small flight of
steps led up to the woven gondola. Ned was standing beside it, talking to the
Frenchman and three others. He was draped in his heavy driving cape. She waited
whilst Mary put hers over her shoulders.

As the balloon swayed and
strained at its moorings her enthusiasm for this venture began to fade, her
courage seeping away with each step she took towards the balloon. Ned strode to
greet her.

‘Good morning, sweetheart. You
look enchanting. It’s a glorious morning, perfect ballooning weather.’

‘I’m sorry, but I find I’ve
changed my mind. I’m not setting foot in that contraption, Ned.’

He chafed her cold hands and drew
her close, planting a hard kiss on her open mouth before she could protest
again. ‘There’s not a breath of wind. It’s ideal weather. I really want to
share a sunrise with you. We’ll never have a better opportunity to see it than
today. I promise you, it’s completely safe. We’re firmly anchored and the
balloon’s not fully inflated.’

 
She was unconvinced, but allowed him to lead
her to the steps. He picked her up and placed her where she could see into the
gondola. She gasped.

‘Oh Ned!
Did you arrange all this? It looks like a sultan’s palace. Where did you obtain
the beautiful silk cushions and Kashmir rugs?’

‘I have an attic full of such
paraphernalia. Do you like it? There’s also a hamper stuffed full of
delicacies, and cold champagne and lemonade to wash it down. We shall eat
breakfast watching the sun rise over the sea. It will be unique. No other
couple will have had such an experience.’

She hesitated, her old antipathy
to balloons holding her back. But it looked so inviting - so exotic - and he
had gone to such trouble to make this morning memorable. She held up a finger
to test the breeze; there was none. The air was, as Ned had said, as still as a
millpond.

‘Very well, if you’re quite
certain it’s safe, I’ll come up with you, but only this once, as it’s a special
occasion.’

The smile he gave her convinced
her she had made the correct decision. He lifted her into the basket then
stepped in himself. As soon as they were comfortably settled he waved a small
flag over the side, obviously provided for that very purpose.

The men took hold off the
handles. They must have had strict instructions to raise the balloon gradually
in order not to alarm her before they were aloft. She lay back on the colourful
cushions finding she was actually enjoying the novelty. She rested her head on
Ned’s shoulder and he reciprocated by slipping his arm around her waist.

‘This is really quite enjoyable.
I never thought I could feel contented in a balloon.’

He bent his head and nibbled at
her ear. ‘Is it possible that I could have something to do with your change of
heart, my love?’ His words, whispered into her hair, sent ripples of excitement
coursing down her spine to pool in a most surprising place.

‘My lord!
I thought we were in this basket to watch the sunrise?

‘Then you were sadly mistaken,
sweetheart. I have a far more interesting pastime in mind.’

For a few blissful minutes Ned
demonstrated his intentions until
commonsense
restrained him. He propped himself up on one elbow and studied her flushed
cheeks, her swollen lips and the dazed expression in her eyes. Enough was
definitely enough!

He sat up, allowing her time to
adjust her clothing and recover her composure. The balloon was perfectly
positioned for his purposes. Its movement was minimal, the tethers holding it
steady. He stood up and pulled a spyglass from a pocket in his cape. Flicking
it open, he put it to his eye and rotated carefully, scanning the horizon in
all directions. Excellent, no clouds, no wind, the weather remained perfect.

Penny joined
him, commenting on how stable the gondola was. He pulled her tight to his side
and she came willingly. ‘I hadn’t realized it would be possible to move about
up here. I had imagined it more like a small boat, only safe if its occupants
remain seated.’

‘Not so, my
dear.
I believe that in France, some years ago, eight people ascended
and actually danced a quadrille, several hundred feet above the ground.’

‘How extraordinary!’
She breathed in deeply, filling her lungs with the fresh morning air. ‘It even
smells different up here.’ She paused, listening. ‘Can you hear the birds? I
have never heard the dawn chorus sound so clear.’ He smiled as she risked a
peek over the side and shivered ‘We’re so high up, how far is it to the
ground?’

‘About three
hundred feet, no more.
There are trees as tall as this in the New
World.’

Holding tight to his arm she
ventured closer to the edge of the basket. Its sides reached to just below her
shoulders, giving an illusion of safety. As the wicker beneath didn’t rock
alarmingly she was brave enough to transfer her hands to the rim. She risked
another peep.

‘Where are the men? Why have they
left us up here?’ Her voice
rose
a little, believing
she was stranded in
midair
at the mercy of the
elements.

‘I expect they’ve gone back to
break their fast. They’ll return long before we wish to descend. Don’t look so
worried, sweetheart, you’re perfectly safe.’ He grinned wolfishly. ‘Well, safe from
the elements, anyway. I cannot promise you’re not in any danger from me.’

‘Don’t be
ridiculous, Ned. It’s far too cold to indulge in the things you have in mind.
And you promised to restrain yourself until we’re married.’’

‘That’s a pity, but I will abide
by your wishes. We have the rest of our lives ahead of us; there’s no need to
rush into something that, in my opinion, is best done slowly.’

‘You’re impossible, Lord Weston!’
She inched her way gingerly round the edge of the basket, obviously beginning
to enjoy the novelty. ‘Look, Ned, the sun’s starting to rise over the sea. The
water’s turning orange and gold; it’s as though God’s pouring celestial paint
upon the earth for our delight.’

They stood, enthralled, watching
until the spectacle was completed and the world bathed in early morning
sunshine. The basket rocked a little, as though pushed by an unseen hand. Penny
laughed, clutching at his arm to steady
herself
.

‘Thank you, that
was
a magical experience. One I shall treasure for the rest
of my life.’ She pulled her cloak together. ‘It’s cold standing
up,
shall we sit down and open the hamper? All this fresh
air has restored my appetite.’

He served her with lobster
patties, chicken legs, cheese dainties, apple turnovers and plum
cake,
all washed down with chilled champagne for him and
freshly made lemonade for her.

They became engrossed and he
didn’t notice the increased movement of the basket or the sudden drop in
temperature. Suddenly the balloon lurched violently to one side, tipping her
into his lap. He laughed as they untangled themselves. Then he swore.

Penny shocked by his outburst
remonstrated. ‘Please don’t use such language. I don’t like to hear it.’ He
ignored her ladylike protest. He was on his feet, the basket still askew,
the
flag for attracting attention in his hand.

‘God damn it, where is everyone?
We need to come down. It’s going to get unpleasant up here very soon.’ The park
was deserted apart from two small figures sitting, watching, on the terrace.

‘What is it? Why are we rocking so
violently? I don’t like it, Ned.’

 
‘Neither do I, sweetheart. Everything will be
fine; don’t worry. The men will be back to lower as at any minute now. The
balloon is so securely tethered it will not pull free even in a storm. I
checked the anchors were sufficient last night.’ He waved his flag vigorously
over the side of the basket and Mary ran from the terrace in the direction of
the barn.

‘Sit down, Penny. It’s safer in the
bottom of the basket. I’m sorry our morning has been spoilt. It’s
uncomfortable, but I promise it’s not dangerous.’

She did as she was bid; she could
see he was concerned by the brutal rocking. Crouching, terrified, under the
rugs, she watched him as he balanced under the neck of the sphere fighting to
release the valve that prevented the hydrogen from escaping. Thank God! He’d
succeeded.

The noise of the wind made speech
impossible, but he pointed and nodded vigorously. The balloon lurched again and
he lost his footing and fell heavily on top of her. He rolled away.

‘I’m sorry, did I hurt you?’ He
was obliged to shout directly into her ear to make
himself
heard above the terrifying roar of the wind. She shook her head, not attempting
to answer. ‘The gas is being released, the balloon will deflate and we’ll
descend, but it’s going to take a little while,’ he bellowed. ‘You mustn’t
worry; it’s merely uncomfortable, not dangerous.’

The basket rocked violently and
Ned swore again. He struggled upright and, clinging to the basket, peered over.
He was thrown to the floor again as two of the anchors tore out of the ground,
the aerostat was now held by only two ropes and the weight of the winch. There
was nothing he could do except hold her in his arms and pray the men arrived
before the final anchors ripped free and the balloon carried them out to sea.
This was no accident. Someone had deliberately loosened the restraints hoping
the balloon would take them to their deaths.