Fenella J Miller (9 page)

Chapter Nine

Penny huddled in the bottom of
the basket even his warmth couldn’t prevent her shivering. Ned knew what she
was thinking
-
 
that
she shouldn’t have listened to him and should have remained safely on the
ground. The sun was rudely obliterated by towering black clouds and the skies
opened.

In seconds they were both
drenched, their cloaks and blankets were no protection from the downpour. He
staggered to his feet and saw the men racing desperately across the grass
hoping to reach the winch before it was torn from its moorings. There was
nothing he could do apart from offer comfort and reassurance to his petrified
betrothed

He realized, even if she did not,
that their time was running out. The balloon was not deflating quickly enough
and with only the one remaining anchor they could tear free at any moment. The
ferocity of the wind increased and the final anchor lifted. Then the cast iron
winch was wrenched from the ground, even its enormous weight not sufficient to
hold them down.

Ned sensed the instant they were
airborne, unrestrained, racing towards the open sea. A balloon usually
travelled at the speed of the prevailing wind but as theirs was trailing
several iron objects it would, he prayed, move more slowly. He gathered Penny
closer in order to shout into her ear. It was imperative she knew what to
expect.

‘Penny, we’re heading out towards
the sea. The weight of the anchors will prevent us from ascending any further.
Do you understand? Nod if you do.’ She nodded, her face paper white, hair
plastered to her head, bonnet long gone, ripped away by the wind. ‘I anticipate
we’ll land on the sea not far from shore. When we do you must hang on to the
net.’ He pointed to the intricate mesh that enveloped the balloon and to which
the basket was attached.

She was too scared to question
his instructions and her teeth were chattering too much for her to do more than
nod again.

‘Good girl.’ He smiled, hoping
his confidence would reassure her. ‘We’re going to scramble up on to the
balloon - there will be enough hydrogen in it to keep us afloat.’

His next words were lost in the
wind but she heard enough. The word,
afloat,
lodged in her subconscious and was sufficient to keep her from hysteria.

Next he removed his
boots and stockings and threw them to one side. The rain was falling
horizontally and copious amounts of icy water were whipping through the sides
of the basket adding to the deluge pouring on them from above. The balloon was
noticeably lower, barely above the tree tops and Penny prayed it would land
before they reached the coast. Ned removed his cape and stuck a long- bladed
knife into his waistband. Was he going to try and puncture the balloon in order
to speed the release of the hydrogen?

He intercepted her stare and
dropped down to his knees beside her cupping his hands round her ear. ‘If we
land out to sea I must cut the gondola from the net or the weight of the
anchors and the winch will pull us under.’

She followed
his example and placed her hands against his head and screamed into his ear.
‘Why not do it now? You might not be able to cut all the ropes quickly enough
once we’re in the sea.’

He shook his head, abandoning any
attempt to speak. He mimed the effect such a premature action would have. She
sank back, understanding what his demonstration meant. If he released the
weights too soon then the balloon could rise and carry them further out.

The howl of the wind seemed to
change pitch, become deeper somehow. One look at his horrified expression told
her what it was. The noise was the waves underneath them. He leant down and
pointed to her feet, indicating she should remove her cloak, petticoats,
slippers and stockings. He pointed to his bare feet and mimed climbing up the
net. She nodded; he was telling her it would be safer to scramble over the
balloon with bare feet. Frantically she pulled off her sodden petticoats and
stockings - there was very little time.

He bent forward and, seizing her
round the waist, threw her up on to the net. She began to climb, fear giving
her the strength to grip the slippery rope. The gondola was bumping along the
waves and he was slashing like a madman at the pieces of rope that held the
basket to the balloon itself.

Within seconds of their landing
the basket was submerging -there were huge waves breaking over him. Still he
sawed away – their lives depended on his success. The icy North Sea slapped her
ankles, promoting a frenzy of climbing. The balloon, although now almost empty,
had more than enough buoyancy to hold her.

 
She fell into a hollow on its surface the
balloon appeared to flatten under her, easily supporting her weight. The rain
continued to lash her face but she was safe from the waves. Gulping in a
lungful of air, her heart pumping painfully in her chest, she began to believe
she was going to survive, that she wasn’t going to drown.

Held safely in the dip she
couldn’t see the waves below, couldn’t see what he was doing. Why wasn’t he
climbing up to join her? Gingerly she rolled to the edge and, using it to
support her, peered over the top. She was surrounded by heaving, slate grey
water; there was no sign of the gondola or Ned. Her throat constricted. Where
was he?

 
‘Ned, Ned.’ Her cries were carried away by the
howling wind. The makeshift boat rocked violently almost pitching her into the
waves. Terrified she slid backwards, her mind refusing to accept the awful
truth. He was dead. Her beloved had drowned.

Numb with misery she prayed that
God would take her too; she didn’t want to be on this earth without him. The
balloon rocked violently a second time and she was tumbled, end over end, to
the centre where the rain water that had collected submerged her completely.
She lay winded, face down, believing her prayers were being answered. Drowning
would not be so bad; she opened her mouth to let the water do its work.

Penny disappeared over the edge
of the floating balloon and, confident she was safe; Ned turned his attention
back to slicing the ropes. He had severed all but two when the waves swallowed
the basket taking him with it. Desperately sawing, knowing that when the ropes
were fully stretched it would, inexorably, follow.

The last fibres split and the
combined weight of the anchors and winch tore the rope end from his hand. His
lungs were bursting; he needed air. He kicked violently and shot up but his
head didn’t break the surface of the water, it bumped against something solid.

He had come up under the balloon;
he was almost done, had seconds left to live - his reserves were exhausted. He
had failed. Then floating before him he saw Penny’s image; she was smiling at
him; he had to survive, without him she too would surely perish. With savage
kicks he swam parallel to the sphere, praying he would reach the end of it
before his lungs gave out.

Then there was nothing under his
groping hand – he was free. With the last of his energy he swam up, and this
time his head broke the surface of the water. He clutched out and rammed his
fingers in the netting. The tide was strong, the waves powerful, he could be swept
away in a second.

For several moments he hung,
gasping, drawing lifesaving air into his chest. The water was freezing; his
life was ebbing away. He had to climb up the netting; join Penny on top where
they would both be safe.

He rested his forehead on the
slippery side, gathering the remnants of his strength for one final push. The
balloon rocked sideways as a large wave surged under it, and, seizing his
opportunity, he began a frantic scramble. His weight tipped the balloon, and
for a horrible moment he thought it would capsize. Then it righted and using
that motion to assist him he flung himself over the rim and fell inside.

The water slopping about in the
hollow was almost bath like in comparison to the sea and it revived him. He
rolled upright, but couldn’t see her. Then, in the centre of the dip, where the
water was deepest, he saw her, lying face down.

With a roar of anguish he hurtled
forward dragging her out of the pool. Not now, not after all this! How could he
bear it? Finally he had found his perfect partner, the woman he would love for
the rest of his life, and he had lost her.

His face contorted with grief as
he dragged the limp form to the edge where he cradled her, his tears adding to
the rain that streamed down his face. So lost in his sorrow for a moment he
didn’t recognize the signs. This was not her corpse he was holding, at least
not yet, she had a pulse.

He wouldn’t lose
her,
he had been given a second chance. He flipped her over,
draping her across his raised knees, and began to systematically pummel her
back, starting at the base of her spine and ending between her shoulders. He
repeated this twice and then rolling her back, he placed his mouth over her icy
lips, attempting to breathe life into her.

From a deep darkness Penny heard
a voice – his voice. ‘Sweetheart, darling, don’t leave me, I love you, I need
you, please don’t die.’ The words were being repeated over and over, like a
refrain. And then she understood. Ned was alive, he was calling her back. They
were to be given another chance.

She convulsed, the water spewing
from her mouth, emptying her lungs and allowing life-giving air to flood in.
She was cradled in his arms and, drawing a shuddering breath, she opened her
eyes.

‘Thank the sweet Lord, thank God,
my darling, you’re safe now. I thought I’d lost you.’ He pulled her up,
supporting her against his chest. ‘Rest, sweetheart, I have you now. You’ll be
safe. I’ll not let anything else take you from me.’

She tried to raise her arm, to
reach up to touch his dear face; the face she had never thought to see again in
this world, but inertia held her fast. Instead she smiled into his eyes and
mouthed, ‘I love you.’ Then her lids drooped and she allowed blessed sleep to
take her.

‘Wake up, darling. You mustn’t
sleep, you’re too cold. You’ll die if you don’t stay awake.’ He shook her
roughly, forcing her to return to the nightmare that surrounded them. ‘Good
girl – now I’m going to start rotating your arms, try to restore your
circulation.’

She couldn’t remain comatose with
a maniac shaking her about like a rag doll. ‘Stop it, Ned; you’re hurting me.
You’re pulling my arms out of their sockets.’

She hadn’t needed to shout, her
words were audible. The wind had dropped and the rain slackened to a drizzle.
‘I feel as I’ve swallowed a bucket of water and it’s slopping about inside me.’

‘Stick your fingers down your
throat, bring it up, you’ll feel much better, I promise you.’

Even in her weakened state such a
suggestion appalled her. She forced herself out of his grasp, intending to
protest, but the sudden movement had the desired effect. He held her head as
she retched helplessly, regurgitating the last of the water that had almost
drowned her.

‘You will feel much better now,
my darling.’

She flopped back into his arms.
‘Well, I could hardly feel any worse. I seem to be making a habit of this.’ She
was tempted to close her eyes, to sleep, but if she did the wretched man would
start his shaking and pummelling again. She prised her salt-sticky eyes apart
and stared upwards.

‘Look, the
clouds are breaking. I can see a patch of blue sky.’

‘It will start to get warmer
soon, sweetheart, and we’ll both feel better.’ He propped her, unresisting,
against the springy edge, and pulled himself upright. ‘Thank God! Penny,
darling, look, we’re drifting into the shore, the tide’s strong here and it’s
carrying us in with it.’

She found energy from somewhere
and with his assistance gained the edge and peered into the drizzle. Her heart
lifted. ‘That’s the beach; I’m not imagining it, am I?’

‘No, darling, you’re not. We
should be there in about fifteen minutes. We’re saved; somehow we’ve both been
spared.’

She slipped back down into the
hollow of their odd boat and he joined her, reaching out and pulling her on to
his lap. A feeling of joy swept over her. They had nearly perished, but now
they were safe.

Chapter Ten

A watery sun emerged from behind
the remaining clouds and they basked in its welcome heat. Too exhausted to speak,
they rested, waiting for the bump that would indicate they had arrived on the
sand. The balloon bottomed, tipping them forward.

‘We’re there, sweetheart. Come
along, let me help you.’

Getting out was considerably
easier. Allowing gravity to do the work they rolled one after the other over
the edge and down to the wet sand. Penny had difficulty regaining her feet, the
weight of her sodden skirts holding her down.

‘Up you come,’ he heaved her
upright. ‘We must walk about, try and restore some blood to our limbs and allow
our garments to dry.’

She stared at him, an unexpected
smile splitting her wan face. ‘You look like a buccaneer, my love. And you have
lost your lovely Hessians. What a shame!’

‘Good God, do you think I care
about that?’ He grinned, holding her at arm’s length. ‘We do indeed make a
sorry pair.’ He stepped closer and hugged her hard. ‘But we’re alive and well.
Do you know
,
I have never felt happier than I do at
this moment?’

‘In spite of
being half drowned and scared to death?’
She sighed. ‘Oh, Ned, I do love
you so much, and I feared I would never be in a position to say those words
again’

‘My darling; I’m the luckiest man
alive.’ They gazed into each other’s eyes, lost in love and happiness. The sun
shone, warming them, drying their clothes and sending a different sort of heat
surging through their veins.

‘Lord Weston. Lord Weston.’ A
shout from the dunes startled them apart.

‘It’s Ducray and my men from
Headingly
.’ He waved one arm, unwilling to remove the other
from his beloved. They began to walk towards the rescue party, reluctant to
re-join the bustle of reality.

Soon Penny was warmly wrapped in
rugs, sitting in the back of the carriage that had come from to find them. They
had no need to talk; they were content to bask in the warmth of their shared
affection. Even the discomfort of sticky, damp clothes didn’t intrude in their
oasis of happiness.

‘What will happen to the balloon?
Will they bother to collect it?’

‘The wagon will be there already.
It’s
odd how close to home we are, I felt as though we
were in a foreign land.’

‘The last two people on earth, I
know exactly what you mean.’ She stretched up and pushed a strand of hair from
his forehead. ‘It’s remarkable they found us so quickly, but I’m glad they did.
I cannot wait to bathe and change into something dry.’

His eyes teased her. ‘I was
rather hoping we would have no need of clothes, dry or otherwise.’

She giggled. ‘Ned, you’re
impossible. Our narrow escape doesn’t give you leave to take advantage. Such
things must wait until we’re man and wife. Can you imagine what Aunt Lucy would
have to say on the subject?’

‘Shame!
But I’m having the banns called today. We shall tie the knot in three weeks.’

She slipped off his lap,
attempting to arrange herself demurely on the squabs.

‘You look like a sea nymph, or a
mermaid, with your hair loose like that.’ His eyes darkened and he prepared to
join her. She shook her head as the carriage began to slow.

‘I’m relieved your guests are
still safely in their beds. I’ve no wish to be seen looking like this. I shall
return to my room for a hot bath and intend to rest until noon.’

The carriage
rattled to a halt and two footmen opened the door and lowered the steps. They
kept their eyes firmly to the ground; they had obviously been warned not to
stare. Ned climbed out first and his expression was no longer that of someone
whose life had been a miraculously saved. He looked fierce, and fury flickered
in his eyes. Damnation! He must mask his feelings better.

‘Ned?’ She sounded worried.

‘Yes,
sweetheart?
Is something wrong?’ He reached in and gripping her firmly
around the waist lifted her to the ground.

‘No, everything is splendid. I
can hardly believe it’s still so early and yet so much has happened to us. I
shall never take anything for granted again.’

Her smile made him wish she was
prepared to throw convention to one side and agree to share his bed tonight.

‘Lady Dalrymple already knows
we’re safe. No doubt she will wish to visit you in your chambers as soon as
you’re ready.’

She hurried inside
trailing rugs and water behind her. Ned stood, unable to take his eyes from her
until she vanished. She was his life and the bastard who had almost taken her
from him was going to regret it.

‘My lord, I have a bath ready.’

The quiet reminder from his valet
refocused his attention on the present. ‘Yes, I’m coming presently. First I
have some urgent business to attend to.’

His intention was to find his men
and start investigating how the anchors had been loosened. The near tragedy
would be referred to as an accident; Penny had been frightened enough by the
experience.

He didn’t wish her to know
someone had deliberately tried to kill them. He would deal with it – his way.
He found Reynolds, one of the four men he sought, examining the holes in the
lawn. ‘God damn it! Where are the others?’ He didn’t enjoy traipsing round the
place in search of his minions.

‘They’re already investigating
what took place here, my lord.’ His face was grave. ‘This is a nasty business.
Someone came out here last night and loosened the ground. How many of your
guests knew you were intending to take Miss Coombs for a flight this morning,
my lord?’

‘None of them.
Lady Dalrymple knew, of course and Ducray and that
émigré
. I suspect it was the count. Somehow he’s got wind of the investigation
and hoped to divert attention from himself by murdering myself and Miss
Coombs.’

‘Are you suggesting he knows it’s
you who’s leading the search, my lord?’

‘No, I’m certain he does not. His
manner towards me is that of a fellow aristocrat. His behaviour, his
expression, would have revealed his suspicions.’

He kicked a lump of turf and
swore. He had forgotten he was still in his stockings. ‘I must remove these
sodden garments and put on some boots. If anyone sees me prancing about out
here dressed as I am, they’ll think I’m ready for Bedlam.’ He turned to go.
‘Reynolds, where have you sent the other men? Walk with me and explain.’

‘Perkins and Jones accompanied
the wagon that has gone to collect the balloon. If any of the labourers are not
what they say those two will soon discover it.’ The young man grinned. ‘I sent
Jed to scout around the grounds.
It’s
possible
intruders came in from outside during the night. If they left any evidence,
he’s the man to find it.’

‘Excellent! My information is that
the traitor we seek has close links with the free traders. Have you had a
chance to search the barn for gold?’

‘No, my lord; there’s always
someone in there. However, we’ve a chance to poke about whilst they’re all down
the beach salvaging the balloon.’

‘Give me ten minutes to change
and I’ll be back down – if the gold’s already in the barn this is the perfect
opportunity to discover it.’

The building was, as expected,
deserted. Ned glanced round. ‘Reynolds, take the far side where the men have
their belongings and I’ll examine the boxes and barrels.’ After twenty minutes
methodical searching neither of them had found anything suspicious.

‘If they have the gold it’s
certainly not in here, my lord.’

‘It must be arriving separately;
the highest tide is not for another two weeks. Plenty of time for them to have
it delivered. The count obviously has several accomplices working for him; it’s
those we have to apprehend before they succeed in harming Miss Coombs.’

Reynolds scratched his head.
‘It’s a rum do, sir. It
don’t
seem sensible to draw
attention to themselves like, by these attacks on your young lady. If it was
me, I’d keep me head down until the gold actually arrives.’

‘I believe they wish to keep the
militia and myself occupied. Whilst we’re chasing possible abductors and
potential killers we’re not watching the coast for smugglers, and the lanes for
a diligence filled with gold.’ He brushed the dust from his coat and, removing
a kerchief from his pocket, bent down to clean his top boots.

‘I reckon as you could be right,
my lord. Seeing as you’re the magistrate it don’t mean they know you’re a
government agent as well, do it?’

‘I sincerely hope they do not. I
have successfully maintained my cover for the past ten years and cannot
conceive that I’ve revealed myself this time. I’ll continue my enquiries
inside.’ He prepared to leave the gloom of the barn. ‘Remember, no one must
suspect that the narrow escape Miss Coombs and I had this morning was anything
more than an accident – I’ve no wish to alert the perpetrators. Let them
believe they’re safe from discovery.’

He returned to the house not
wishing to remain visible for any longer than was necessary. He glanced up at
the thirty or so windows that faced southwards and was relieved to see not one
of them had open shutters. The time was a little after 8 o’clock – far too
early for most of his guests to be up.

‘Reynolds, I’ll be in my study.
Let me know what Perkins has discovered.’

‘Please, Aunt Lucy, don’t fuss
so. I’m perfectly well. A hot bath was sufficient to restore me. The incident
was an accident that would have been a tragedy but for Lord Weston’s quick
thinking and courage.’

‘I cannot understand how such a
thing could have happened. What was he thinking of to take you up when the
weather was so blustery?’

‘My dear Aunt Lucy, I’ve
explained at great length about all aspects of this morning’s misadventure. I
should prefer to speak of something else.’ Penny smiled to take the sting from
her words. ‘In fact I have momentous news for you. Lord Weston and I have
decided to arrange our wedding for the middle of June - not September.’

‘Good heavens! That gives us less
than a month to organize your trousseau and invite the guests.’

‘That’s quite long enough. Instead
of having a betrothal ball and garden party for Lord Weston’s tenants and
villagers we shall now make it a celebration of our wedding. I don’t believe
I’ll have ballooning as a feature, not after today.’

‘I should think not. Do you have
a list of guests already drawn up?’

‘No. Perhaps both you and Mrs
Weston could help me with this? I fear if you left it to me I should forget to
invite someone important.’

Penny had intended to rest on her
day-bed until noon but she was feeling so invigorated at the thought of her
forthcoming nuptials she sat up, swinging her legs to the floor. ‘I shall need
to get dressed. My
demi-toilette
is
not suitable for appearing in public.’

Her great-aunt
pushed herself to her feet. ‘In that case, my dear, I shall leave you. Where
shall we meet to discuss our plans?’

‘In the library, it’s a pleasant
room and the French doors open on to the terrace. So if we wish we can remove
ourselves outside.’

She could hardly credit that
scarcely four hours ago she had been hurrying downstairs for her dawn
assignation. Indeed, so much had happened since they had renewed their
acquaintance she was almost tempted to believe the two things connected. She
heard Mary enter from the dressing room in answer to her summons.

‘I should like to wear my new
walking dress of jaconet muslin. The rose pink is exactly right for a warm
summer’s day.’

‘Very well, miss. Will you
be wanting
the jacket?’

Penny thought for a moment. This
dress had long sleeves which should be sufficient for conversing in the library.
‘If I decide to walk in the garden after my meeting then I shall come up for my
bonnet, gloves and parasol.’

Downstairs the house was alive
with guests and all had heard about her adventure and all wanted to
commiserate, congratulate or speculate. It took Penny more than thirty minutes
to reach the library and both Lady Dalrymple and Mrs Weston were already there.

‘I do apologize; I must have been
waylaid by a dozen people all wishing to know the details of this morning’s
accident.’

Mrs Weston had risen on her
entrance. ‘What a dreadful thing to happen, Miss Coombs. I, for one shall not
be queuing up for a ride in that contraption.’

She was embarrassed that a lady
who was her senior had felt obliged to stand. ‘Please, Mrs Weston, do be
seated. I have no wish to stand on ceremony; after all we’re to be related very
soon, are we not?’

‘How kind!
Ned has always been a favourite of mine. James and he are as close as brothers.
When dear Ned’s parents were taken in an epidemic of the fever he was up at
Oxford with James – this was a difficult time for the family, but both James
and I were here to give our support.’ She arranged the skirt of her smart
maroon walking dress around her feet.

‘Shall I ring for refreshments to
be served here? It’s almost noon and I believe nuncheon will be served in the
small dining-room soon.’

Her aunt smiled at her. ‘We took
the liberty of asking for coffee and pastries to be brought here. We have much
to discuss and very little time in which to do it.’

‘Then I can relax and join you at
the table.’ Penny pulled out a chair, carefully smoothing the back of her dress
before she sat. ‘Now, I see you have paper, pens and ink ready. Who shall be
our scribe this morning?’

Not until mid-afternoon was Penny
released from the library. She was heartily sick of hearing about people she
had never met that simply
must
be
included on the guest list. In the end she had agreed to leave this to her aunt
and Mrs Weston. She had insisted, however, that the list should be submitted to
Ned before the invitations were written.