She shook her head. “No, no. It’s just the excitement. So, milord. Where is the finish line for this race of yours?”
He gestured. “At the other end of the meadow. My men have spread a red blanket. Anchored it with stones. Are you sure ...?”
“I’m quite well, thank you.”
Her tone was testy and she looked decidedly peaked. But this was not the time to pursue the matter. Perhaps it was the excitement of the race. She’d looked fine at breakfast. “Very well, then. Shall we begin?”
“Yes, of course. Harold will help me into the gondola.”
He nodded and made his way to his own balloon. Perhaps he was being foolhardy, trying to arrange the romantic scene she longed for. He wasn’t even sure she was going to follow The Plan. Phoebe thought so. But Phoebe was so lovestruck she was hardly a good judge of anything.
He swung a leg over the side of the basket. He should have arranged a nice ride ... Lord, no, not the way she rode. But perhaps a picnic. Still, with the others around it was almost impossible to get her alone. And he could hardly put the question to her in company.
Damnation! He couldn’t wait much longer. He was going to ask her. This very day. No matter what.
“Ready?” Harold called.
Ranfield looked to her. She was nodding. He waved his own hand.
“Then go!”
The servants released the ropes and slowly the balloons rose. Ranfield, feeding straw to the brazier’s fire, glanced at Aurelia’s balloon. It was rising at about the same speed as his own. He watched her peer over the edge, intent on seeing the red blanket that was their goal.
Could she really love him? Or was Phoebe just imagining the whole thing? But the marks had been there in the book. And Aurelia’s accidents had occurred.
She was testing the air currents. He should be doing the same. He squinted against the sun, trying to make out her features. But she was too far away.
He would have to stay in the same current in order to be there for the final rescue. But what if Phoebe was mistaken? What if Aurelia didn’t fake an accident? There was her pride to be considered. Ballooning was her life, and all summer she had been a passionate advocate of hydrogen gas.
Damnation! His balloon was going the wrong way. It was headed not toward the other end of the meadow but at right angles to it, back toward the house. He added more straw to the brazier. The balloon rose, but it still kept its direction.
In the other balloon, Aurelia muttered softly and pulled on the valve rope. What on earth was he doing? It was dangerous to head back toward those trees. She waved her arms and made motions for him to go up, but he was intent on feeding the brazier and didn’t see her.
With a sigh, she dumped some ballast till she rose to his height. Wherever he was going, she would follow.
They went for some distance and then his balloon began to descend, not slowly and gracefully, but in erratic dips and dives that made her catch her breath. She pulled the valve rope and followed him down, her eyes on the terrain below.
The house was still faraway, but almost beneath them was the stream where the horse had thrown her. For a moment she let herself think about that precious day. But his balloon tangled in the nearby trees. His gondola hit the earth and bounced. She almost screamed as the hot coals flew from the brazier and hissed into the stream. And then a figure tumbled from the rolling basket, to lie still at the water’s edge.
“Ranfield! Oh, no!”
Heedless of her own safety or that of the balloon, Aurelia brought it swiftly down into a thicket. She was out of the gondola almost before it hit the ground and racing through the brambles to the streambed.
He lay half in the water, his upturned face pale. With a shudder she dragged him to dry ground. Then she knelt beside him, but he did not open his eyes. “Oh, dear. It’s all my fault. I should never have agreed to this flight.”
She lifted his head to her lap and pressed a kiss to his brow. “Oh, what shall I do without you?” she murmured. “How shall I ever live?”
His eyes fluttered and opened. “Aurelia?”
The sound of her name brought tears to her eyes. “Yes, Ranfield, I am here.”
“What happened?”
“Your balloon came down. You were tipped out.”
He stared up at her. “And you came down after me?”
“Well, yes. I ... I saw that you were injured.”
He put his hand to his head. “A little bump, nothing more.” He pushed himself to a sitting position facing her. “So you rescued me.”
“Oh, milord, it was ...”
He began to laugh. In consternation she watched as his laughter grew and grew. “Ranfield? Milord?”
“You ... rescued ... me. Oh, that ... is ... rich.”
His laughter reached out and caught her, pulling her into his mirth. And soon she was laughing, too. Just as they had that day in the stream.
She did not know quite when it happened, but somehow, someway, his arms were around her. And hers around him. And still they laughed.
Finally, she raised her head from where it lay against his soggy waistcoat. “I ... Why do we laugh like this?”
His eyes were so bright, pieces of heaven shining in his beloved face.
“I cannot speak for you,” he said, his expression sobering. “But I know perfectly well why I feel so fine.”
Her heart began those wild palpitations again. “You do?”
“Oh, yes.” He pulled her closer against him. “It’s because I love you, Aurelia Amesley.”
For a moment she thought the breath had left her lungs forever. And then she could speak again, but she could not believe. “What did you say?”
He looked down at her, his expression tender. “I said I love you.”
“You ... love ... me,” she repeated woodenly. She had never swooned in her life, but she felt dangerously close to it.
His face darkened. “Phoebe was right, wasn’t she? If that chit misled me ...”
“Phoebe?” Her voice was sharper than she intended. “What has Phoebe to do with this?”
His eyes clouded. “She said ... She assured me ...” He withdrew his arm and sat stiffly apart. “I seem to have made a mistake, Miss Amesley. My cousin misread your feelings for me. She mistook gratitude for affection and ...”
He looked so miserable, she could not bear it. “Phoebe,” she began, but he was so firmly launched into abject apology that he could not hear her. And so, with complete disregard for propriety and The Plan, she threw herself into his arms. Never having done such a thing before, she threw herself rather more emphatically than necessary with the result that he ended flat on his back and she on top of him. But she did not let that deter her. Promptly she pressed her lips to his.
It was a most satisfying kiss, far better than the one he had given her in the balloon. For one thing, now she knew what to expect. And for another, he had said he loved her.
When she raised her mouth, he was staring at her in the most bewildered fashion. “Ranfield,” she said. “I love you, too.”
His smile began then and grew to such proportions that she almost burst into laughter again. But there were too many questions still unanswered.
She pushed herself to a sitting position. Once she was off him, he got immediately to his feet.
-What ...?”
And then he dropped to one knee in front of her. A giggle threatened to choke her. He pretended a thunderous glare. “If you insist on laughing at me, how shall I do this thing properly?” He took her hand. “Miss Amesley, Aurelia. My love. Will you marry me?”
The lump in her throat was so big she had to struggle to get the words over it. “Yes, yes I will.”
“Did I do it property? Shall I add anything?”
“Oh, no, my love. It was perfect. The most perfect proposal a woman ever received.”
He dropped to the grass beside her and wiped his brow. “I’m glad that’s over. My darling, I’m sorry it didn’t work out as you wished.”
“As I wished?”
“Yes, Phoebe told ...”
“Phoebe told ...”
“Come, love.” He put his arm around her. “It was not her fault. You know she cannot stand up under my glare.”
“She told you about The Plan.” Aurelia did not know whether to laugh or cry. “Oh, it is so mortifying.”
“Nonsense.” He kissed her hand. “Actually, it was very enterprising. Though completely unnecessary.”
“Unnecessary?”
“Yes, sweet. You see I loved you the first moment I saw you.”
She remembered that moment—the meeting of their eyes in Hyde Park. “Ranfield ...”
“I did not know it then, of course. Until you crashed into my stables. And my dearest, now that you are to be my wife, will you not call me Philip?”
“Yes, Philip. But why ...?” She found to her surprise that she could now ask him anything. “Why did you take so long?”
“Because of The Plan, my dear.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “The Plan almost persuaded me that you were too scatterbrained to be my wife. First you crash into my stables. I know, that was really an accident.” He laughed. “But my love, the way you ride a horse ... I wonder that that accident wasn’t fatal.”
“I know. You will have to teach me properly. But really, Philip, I did not intend to knock you breathless that day in the meadow.”
He kissed her chin. “And Phoebe’s escapade in the caves was her idea.” He frowned. “Though I understand you had something to do with the elopement.”
“A little. I just thought that Phoebe’s mama might come round when she thought she’d lost her altogether.”
He pulled her closer. “And you were right. I understand, my love. And I promise I shall continue to supply you with romances of terror.”
“You shall?”
“Oh, yes. But I require one pledge in return.”
She snuggled comfortably against him. “What pledge is that?”
“I insist that you no longer try to live these romances. I would like to enjoy our life together without benefit of added hazards.”
And then it hit her. Her ballooning. “You won’t ...? I can’t ...”
“Of course not, my love.” His smile made her blood sing. “We will continue ballooning. I shall even convert my balloon to hydrogen gas ... if that pleases you. But one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“We must always go up together. I cannot bear it otherwise.”
Feeling greatly daring, she kissed the point of his chin. “Of course, Philip. We’ll do everything together. And I do promise I’ll give up living romances. But you must admit that The Plan was not such a bad thing.”
“How so?”
“Well, it brought Harold and Phoebe together. And, however obliquely, us. So, in the long run it worked admirably.”
He chuckled. “More admirably even than you suppose. This morning your uncle came to me about Prudence. It appears that he’s gotten used to her Scriptures and now that she’s been converted to air flight, he means to ask her the question.”
“Three. Three marriages,” Aurelia said triumphantly. “And all from one Plan.”
From the distance came the sound of breaking branches. “Hal-loo. Ree-ly? Ran-ny? Are you there?”
“Yes, Harold,” the Earl shouted. “We’re both here. And doing very well.” Then he took her in his arms and kissed her yet again.
Copyright © 1990 by Nina Pykare
Originally published by Berkley Jove (ISBN 0515103691)
Electronically published in 2009 by Belgrave House/Regency
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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.
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