by Sandra Heath
Hardly daring to breathe, William opened his eyes again, glancing hesitantly around. To one side there was the terrible drop to the pavement, the sharp iron railings, and the faces of the staring crowd; to the other side, incredibly, there was a window, for the car had come to rest level with the top floor of the house. He found himself staring into the startled eyes of the footman whose room it was. He hugged Jane tightly. “We’re safe! Look, we’re safe!”
Timidly she drew back a little from his arms, staring around. A glad sob welled in her throat, and she forgot propriety again, slipping her arms relievedly around him.
William wouldn’t have been human had he not responded, but as he did so, something made him glance down at the pavement; he found himself looking directly into Robert’s rather pensive eyes, and with a guilty start he hastily disengaged himself from Jane.
But fate hadn’t finished with her yet, it had still more spite in store. Assisted by some of his companions, the footman at last succeeded in opening the window, which was very stiff from lack of use. Hands reached out to rescue the two in the car, and William assisted Jane, lifting her by the waist because of the steep angle of the car.
As she leaned toward the window, a playful breath of breeze caught her pink lawn skirts, fluttering them gaily above her knees and affording everyone in the crowd a very shocking view of her legs. The more vulgar elements among the onlookers were moved to whistle and applaud, and with a miserable sob Jane escaped from their stares, wriggling hastily through the window.
She was closely followed by William, and the window was then closed immediately, leaving the empty car swinging idly against the side of the house.
Chapter Fourteen
On the pavement, Christina had watched everything with the utmost anxiety, not daring to believe Jane was really safe until the window had closed. Tears were wet on her cheeks as she sought to compose herself, ready to approach Major General Sir Harold Penn-Blagington’s door, but as she sought her handkerchief in her reticule, something made her glance along the pavement; Robert had seen her and was coming over.
“Are you all right, Christina?”
“I ... Yes.” But her lips were trembling, and fresh tears stung her eyes.
“Please don’t cry,” he said gently, “she’s quite all right now.”
“I ... I know, it’s just ... I’ve followed the balloon all the way from Sydney Gardens, and when I saw it getting lower and lower I thought they’d both be killed.” She blinked the tears furiously away. “Jane was just looking at the balloon, and Mr. Grenfell asked her if she’d like to see the inside of the car. The next thing I knew, a pulley broke loose, and then the balloon began to rise. It ... it was dreadful.”
The words came out in a rush because she was upset, and because she was dismayed at having to be the one to try to explain to him.
“I’m sure it was.” He glanced toward the door of the major general’s house. “I think we should go to see them, don’t you? My carriage is at your disposal, so you won’t have to walk the gauntlet of Bath all the way to Johnstone Street.”
“You’re very kind.”
“Kindness has nothing to do with it.”
She looked quickly at him. “You won’t think badly of Jane, will you? She only wanted to see the balloon, she didn’t want to do anything shocking. You do believe me, don’t you?”
“Yes, Christina, I believe you. Now, shall we adjourn to my neighbor’s house and see what’s what?”
She accepted the arm he offered, and they made their way through the crowd toward the major general’s door, but as they reached it, they could hear raised voices within.
The door opened suddenly, and the major general himself appeared to personally eject his uninvited guests. He was a very choleric military gentleman, once the scourge of his regiment, and he had a bandaged foot that told of gout as troublesome and painful as Mr. Richmond’s. He brandished a walking stick as he glowered at a very contrite William, who was still attempting to comfort a weeping Jane.
“Be off with the pair of you, and you, sirrah, will be receiving a bill for the damage to my property.”
“Of course, sir,” replied William. “I apologize again for the intrusion.”
“From what I hear, sirrah, apologizing is fast becoming a way of life for you!” snapped the other furiously, bristling more and more with each second.
“Maybe this isn’t the time to ask, but when would it be convenient to collect the balloon?” ventured William.
“Without delay!” The major general withdrew into the house again, slamming the door.
Jane saw Christina and Robert then, and dissolved into still more tears as William ushered her gently toward them. He looked rather uneasily at Robert. “Robert, I can explain everything.”
“I’m sure you can, but later will do,” said Robert, only too aware of the intense interest of the watching crowd on the pavement, all of whom now knew their identities.
But William was anxious. “For Lord’s sake, don’t misunderstand, Robert. The damned balloon broke free, the flap valve jammed again, and the hydrogen escaped ...”
“I don’t think I misunderstand at all, William,” replied Robert in an oddly soft tone that made Christina look quickly at him. William detected something as well, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Er, until later, then,” he murmured.
“Please call on me this evening.”
“Very well.”
“And now, I suggest you join us in my carriage. I can convey you as far as Johnstone Street, from where I’m sure you’ll wish to go to Sydney Gardens to collect your assistants.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
The people on the pavement parted as Robert escorted Jane to the carriage, closely followed by Christina and William. Jane was still very distressed, sitting quickly in a corner seat and averting her face from her three companions. Christina sat next to her, taking her hand comfortingly, but nothing could offer solace for what had occurred.
The carriage drove off very slowly, the coachman easing the nervous team through the crush of people. Only when the crescent was behind them could the team be brought up to a good pace, their hoofbeats ringing on the cobbles of Brook Street, which had cleared almost miraculously, as the crescent would as well now that the players had removed from the stage.
William sat awkwardly, glancing at Robert from time to time, but Robert’s face gave nothing away; his expression was impassive as he gazed out of the carriage window.
Nothing was said all the way back to Johnstone Street, and as the coachman maneuvered the team to a standstill at the curb, Jane didn’t wait for either Robert or William to alight first, but forestalled them both by stepping quickly down to the pavement and hurrying tearfully into the house, leaving the front door swinging behind her.
Christina didn’t know quite what to do, remaining in her seat for a moment as William climbed out. He turned a little guiltily on the pavement, looking at her. “I must ask you to forgive me, Miss Richmond.”
She met his eyes, and declined to reply. He’d behaved very badly indeed, egging Jane on because he wished to be with her, and if he thought that her, Christina’s, forgiveness would be forthcoming, he was very much mistaken.
He glanced uncomfortably at Robert. “I will see you tonight, then.”
“You will.”
As William hurried away along the pavement toward Great Pulteney Street, Christina toyed with the strings of her reticule, raising her eyes to Robert’s. “You did mean it when you said you believed me about Jane’s blamelessness?”
“Yes, Christina, I meant it.”
“She would never have stepped into that wretched car if she’d known what was about to happen.”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t. Christina, please don’t look so anxious, for I understand.”
“Do you, my lord?”
“Yes.” He smiled. “Don’t you think it a little formal for you to call me ‘my lord’ when I am familiar enough to call you by your firs
t name? Or is it perhaps that you think I’ve presumed?”
“Oh, no, of course I don’t!” she said quickly, her cheeks coloring.
“Then will you please call me Robert?”
“If ... if that is your wish.”
“It most certainly is.”
She smiled, loving him so much that it was anguish not to touch him.
He sat forward, taking her hand suddenly. “Christina, I don’t want you to worry that today’s events have in any way changed my mind about the future.”
She had to pause to maintain her calm, for the touch of his hand and the softness of his voice played havoc with her heart. At last she could meet his eyes again. “I’m so very glad to hear you say that, Robert, because my sister became innocently embroiled in that scrape, and if you’d turned from her because of it ...”
“You don’t credit me with a great deal of honor, Christina.”
Her flush deepened. “Please don’t think that, for I think you very honorable indeed.”
“I’m pleased to hear it.” He still held her hand, and showed no sign of releasing it. “When you go in, will you please reassure Jane that I don’t misunderstand anything? Tell her that I’m as anxious as she no doubt is to silence any clacking that may arise from today, and that in order to achieve that silence I think it best if we all appear in public as soon as possible. By all, I mean the Richmond family and myself, not William Grenfell.”
“Yes, I agree.”
“Perhaps a sortie to the Theater Royal would be suitable?”
She nodded. “When would you suggest?”
“Tomorrow night. I’d say tonight, but I think Jane might need a little time to recover.”
“I think you’re right, she’s very upset indeed.”
“Christina, you’ll be sure to convey my best wishes to your father, won’t you? I think his mind should be set as much at ease as Jane’s.”
“I’ll do my best, Robert, but when one is in the parental firing line, nothing is very easy.”
“Is that where you’ll be, then? The parental firing line?”
“Almost certainly. I’m the elder sister, and therefore held to be responsible.”
He smiled a little wryly. “With a sister of Jane’s, er, spirit, your position can never have been an easy one.”
“There have been some extremely trying moments,” she admitted, returning his smile.
“Of which this is one of the worst?”
She fell eloquently silent.
He smiled again, drawing her hand to his lips. “I wonder if Jane has any idea how very fortunate she is to have you?” he murmured.
Her lips parted on a secret frisson of pleasure, and she felt the warmth increase on her already flushed cheeks. She had to look away, for she was sure that there were too many telltale signs in her eyes, and that at any moment he might look properly at her and realize the truth.
He released her hand at last, stepping down to the pavement to assist her. “Until the theater tomorrow evening,” he said.
“Until then.” Inclining her head, she hurried toward the door of the house, pausing to look back as he entered the carriage once more. As the coachman’s whip cracked and the team strained forward, he didn’t glance at the house.
She went inside and found the butler waiting. Jane’s sobs could be clearly heard, and the butler was anxious. “Miss Richmond?”
“It’s all right, I’ll go to her now. Would you have Ellen bring some camomile tea?”
“Yes, madam.”
“I take it my father hasn’t returned yet?”
“No, madam.”
“When he does, I rather think he’ll wish to see me immediately.”
“Very well, madam.” Looking rather curiously at her, the butler bowed and hurried away toward the kitchens.
Christina discarded her jockey hat, reticule, and gloves and went quickly up to Jane’s room.
Jane had flung herself on her bed, her face buried in the coverlet, and she was weeping inconsolably.
Christina hurried to her, sitting on the bed and putting a gentle hand on her shaking shoulder. “Please don’t cry any more, Jane.”
“I w-wish I w-was dead!”
“It’s going to be all right. Robert doesn’t want to cast you off.”
Jane’s breath caught, and she sat up, staring incredulously at her. “He doesn’t?”
“No.”
“Oh, Christina!” Jane flung her arms behind her sister’s neck, beginning to sob again.
Christina embraced her, stroking the nape of her neck. “It’s all right, sweetheart, you’ve somehow emerged with the betrothal still intact.”
“I don’t deserve it, do I?”
“No,” replied Christina honestly.
Jane drew back, dabbing her tearstained eyes with her handkerchief. “I can’t believe I behaved as I did. I must have been quite mad.”
“A balloonatic of the highest order,” replied Christina, smiling.
“Most probably.” Jane twisted the handkerchief in her lap. “I wish it hadn’t all gone wrong.”
“With the balloon? It couldn’t have been foreseen.”
“I didn’t mean the balloon,” said Jane in an odd tone.
“Then what? Oh, you may have damaged your reputation somewhat, but if Robert still intends to marry you, it will be a passing wonder.”
“I didn’t mean my reputation, either.”
Christina looked curiously at her. “I don’t understand. Is something else wrong, Jane?”
Jane lowered her glance, her lips parting as if she were about to confide something, but at that moment there was a tap at the door. It was Ellen with the camomile tea. The maid came in and put the tray on the little inlaid table next to the bed, then looked anxiously at her mistress.
“Is there anything you wish me to do, Miss Jane?”
“No, thank you, Ellen.”
The maid bobbed a curtsy and quietly withdrew.
Christina poured the tea and looked at Jane again. “What were you about to tell me?”
“Nothing,” replied Jane quickly.
“Jane ...”
“Truly, it was nothing. I’m being silly.” Jane managed a smile. “I think the excitement of the betrothal has made me overwrought.”
“If you’re sure ...”
“Quite sure. I’m very sorry about today, Christina. You tried so hard to make me conduct myself properly, but I still threw caution to the winds, and I did it quite willfully.”
“I could have wrung your mulish neck,” answered Christina with feeling.
“I don’t blame you. Oh, how am I going to face the world again? I won’t dare to step out of the door.”
“You’ll dare, because you’ll have Robert at your side. He suggests we all go to the theater together tomorrow night, to still the gossip.”
“We?”
“Not precious William, if that’s what you’re thinking, just you, and Father and I.”
“Oh.”
“I tell you this, Jane: if William Grenfell’s dashing nose is bloodied tonight by your future husband, it will be no less than he deserves.”
Jane’s eyes widened with dismay. “Oh, you don’t think Robert would do that, do you?”
“I really don’t know,” replied Christina, remembering the strange note in Robert’s voice when he’d suggested William should call on him that night.
Jane sipped her tea. “I hope you’re wrong, for it wasn’t William’s fault.”
“No?”
“Of course not, he didn’t know the pulley would break.”
“No, but he went out of his way to invite you to look at the balloon, and he pressed you to examine the car, even though he knew full well he shouldn’t. More than that, he openly put his arms around you. He’s behaved very reprehensibly in all this, and so have you, if the truth must be said.”
Jane lowered her cup, her cheeks very pink as she remembered William’s whispered confession of love when the balloon had crash
ed.
Christina got up from the bed, moving to the window to look down toward Laura Place. There was something of a stir in the street. Mr. Pitt’s chair was returning, and his supporters were in their usual noisy attendance. As the former prime minister alighted, acknowledging the cheers, Christina’s glance moved past him to a second chair; her father had returned as well. She watched as the second chair was set down at the curb. Her father alighted, his face very grim indeed, and without so much as a glance at his hero, he stomped into the house.
Christina’s heart sank, for there was no doubt that he’d been regaled with the full story of his younger daughter’s scandalous exploits.
Chapter Fifteen
It was very still and cold that night, and a mist rose from the river to envelop the surrounding streets of Bath. The mist was only low, not reaching the loftier heights of Royal Crescent, where at nearly ten o’clock William took his leave of Robert.
William had spent a very tense evening in the usually comfortable company of his old friend, waiting all the time for the matter of Jane’s presence in the balloon to be introduced into the conversation. Several times he’d attempted to mention it, but on each occasion Robert had skillfully changed the subject.
For William the evening had been a terrible suspense, because he was only too aware of his own guilt where Jane was concerned. It wasn’t until the moment of departure that Robert at last brought up the matter.
They’d just emerged into the darkness, where a chair was waiting to take William to his lodgings in Queen Square. Robert glanced up at the roof of the major general’s house. “I noticed when I returned from Sheldon House that you’d successfully repossessed your property.”
“Er, yes. Although not without difficulty.”
“I trust the balloon can be swiftly repaired?”
“Not swiftly enough for there to be any further ascents from Sydney Gardens.”