Chasing the Green Fairy: The Airship Racing Chronicles

by Melanie Karsak

  “Sal and I have to go into the city.”

  “For what?” Angus asked.

  “We’re getting married.”

  Angus’ wrench clunked loudly on the deck.

  Sal laughed.

  “Did she say married?” Jessup asked Angus.

  “Aye, that’s what she said,” Angus said then looked at me. After a moment, he crossed the deck and crushed me into his arms. “Aye, Lily. Aye, now. There you go, lass.”

  Jessup shook Sal’s hand.

  “It will be a hell of a celebration tonight!” Mandy cheered.

  I reached out for Sal. With a smile, he took my hand, and we headed into London where, that day, I would become Lily Colonna.

  “STOP FUSSING,” I WHISPERED HARSHLY to Jessup. We were standing on the grassy quadrangle in the upper ward of Windsor Castle. As instructed, we’d flown over the castle and anchored on his majesty’s small, private tower in the inner courtyard. King George had agreed to see us but under his terms. He wanted a close-up look of the Stargazer.

  “But Lil, it’s choking the life out of me,” Jessup complained as he adjusted his collar for the twentieth time.

  “He won’t be looking at you anyway,” Angus said. “Not with Lily’s tits half-heaved out of her dress. How scandalous, Mrs. Colonna,” Angus said with a laugh.

  “You’re going to catch pneumonia like that,” Jessup agreed.

  “Bloody hell, both of you, stop ogling my chest. Don’t you know I’m a married woman!” I joked. “Even if he doesn’t hear a word I say, I’m hoping they’ll be convincing.”

  “If I remember correctly, that dress was quite convincing the last time you wore it. All the same, you might fluff them out another inch,” Angus joked.

  “I don’t have another inch, thank you very much,” I said then, re-adjusting my gown. After Sal’s and my private wedding ceremony, I’d pulled out the dress I’d last worn in New York five years back when Byron and I had attended Katy’s party. Thanks to my recent spiral to the bottom of the well, it still fit. I smoothed the red satin once more and tried not to feel nervous. I didn’t have Byron’s way with words, but I hoped fortune would be on my side. Most of all, I was anxious to be done with it so I could get back to the man I’d wed just hours before.

  Sal and I had married at a small chapel near the Hungerford Market. The priest and Sal were friends. The jovial man, who laughed about everything everyone said, was fond of Sal’s magnification goggles. With the priest’s help, we were able to secure a last minute license for our marriage. By noon, Sal and I were husband and wife. Two hours later, I was on the Stargazer en route to Windsor Castle to see the King. It was turning out to be a strange, but magnificent, day.

  A footman crossed the green. “He’s coming down now,” he said, casting a glance backward. “Mind procedure. No one touches his majesty. Never turn your back to him. You do not speak until you are spoken to. And you must address him, at all times, as your majesty. Do you understand?”

  Nervously, we all nodded.

  “Very well,” he said then stood in wait.

  King George IV. I had never given him much thought either way until I’d come to his attention. They said he was proud of us. I hoped so. They also said he was a drinker and an opium eater. With so much in common, surely we would be able to find something to talk about.

  He crossed the lawn surrounded by a ring of guards and servants. Rumor had gone around that he’d grown morbidly obese. It was true. His weight burdened him so much that he walked with a cane. His white stockings strained at his girth, and I could hear his shoes squeaking as he crossed the grass. He wore a heavy blue velvet coat with a yellow silk scarf. His hair was thick and white and it overshadowed his swollen looking face.

  I dropped into a low curtsey. Angus and Jessup bowed. I could feel my knees shaking.

  “My god, what a beauty! You are Lily?” he asked, motioning for me to rise.

  I stood. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “And this is your crew?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Angus MacArthur, Your Majesty,” Angus said with an odd tremor in his voice.

  “Jessup Bittonswaff, Your Majesty.”

  “Well met, lads,” King George said then encouraged them to stand. “Well, Lily, I am anxious to have a look at your ship,” he said, heading toward the airship tower. He reeked of alcohol. The footman motioned for us to go forward with the aging monarch. “One of my servants framed the image of your leap in Paris. Clipped it from the newspaper. It’s hanging in my study,” he said to me. “Quite a noble heart.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” I replied.

  “Noble indeed,” he added, glancing down at my breasts.

  Good lord. We stopped when we reached the bottom of the tower stairs so the King could catch his breath. A servant came forward to offer him a hand. He passed his cane to the young man then shooed him away. With a determination, he slowly climbed the steps. He did not speak again, he was far too winded, until we reached the platform outside the Stargazer.

  “What is that symbol on your balloon, Lily?” he asked.

  “It’s a triskelion, Your Majesty,” I said. “Do you see how all three legs move forward? Constant motion. The past, present, and future all moving together.”

  “Always on the run, eh? Well, let’s have a look about,” he said then headed toward the ship. His fleet of servants moved quickly forward to help him, but he motioned for them to stay back. With a grunt, he crawled aboard the Stargazer.

  “If you like, this way, Your Majesty,” Angus said then, opening the galley and allowing King George to peer below. Angus toured the monarch all around the ship, giving him a look at the basket, prow, and wheelstand. Jessup and I followed attentively behind.

  “I never paid any attention to the ship they use to transport me about,” he said as he gripped the wheel of the Stargazer. “There are schematics in my library of the first ship ever designed by Boatswain. Queen Anne matted them on red velvet. Very pretty. Now, Lily, where does one sit on your ship?”

  My cheeks flushed. Jessup pulled a locker toward the center of the ship. From within, he grabbed my blanket and covered the lid.

  “Please forgive me, Your Majesty. If we sit on this ship, it’s usually on the deck. But please,” I said, motioning to the locker.

  “Perpetually in motion,” he said with a laugh as he sat. “Someone told me you are a drinker.”

  “I’ve a few vices, Your Majesty,” I said with a grin. I motioned to Angus. Digging into our provisions, Angus returned with a bottle and a clean glass. He poured the king a scotch.

  The king motioned for me to sit on the deck. Jessup and Angus, taking their cue, receded quietly into the background. The king took a drink then looked around the Stargazer.

  “The ship is named after you?”

  “Stargazer is a moniker Lord Byron gave me. It was passed on to the ship.”

  He laughed, shook his head, then drank again. “Now, what is it you want? Money?”

  “No, Your Majesty, but I do have two requests if you will hear them.”

  “Proceed.”

  “The British Racing League has enacted a heavy toll for teams to enter the qualifying. They’ve made it almost impossible for commoner teams to compete for placement in the Prix. Companies like Westminster Gas Light are buying the race. The talented pilots who fly over our realm every day, and the brilliant tinkers who design their ships, will soon be excluded as racing becomes a sport controlled by companies.”

  “Can’t these commoners secure sponsorship?”

  “Not always. The companies like things done their own way. And as you are no doubt familiar, we commoners are not always inclined to agree. Company sponsorship is changing the flavor of the race. Until now, we were crews competing in a sport we loved. Now it is becoming a competition between the bank accounts of sponsors.”

  “The East India Company plans to race in the British qualifying next year. They were behind the push for do
uble propulsion,” King George told me carefully.

  It was a rumor I had not yet heard and an important one. If East India was planning to race, their enormous wealth would secure them the most advanced machine available. Next year, I would be in for a very big challenge. The king had done me a favor by sharing what he knew, and we both knew it.

  I nodded appreciatively. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I don’t suppose they are in the market for a pilot?” I said sarcastically.

  “You don’t strike me as the type to bend to a company agenda, Miss Stargazer,” he replied with a laugh. “You know, if I remember correctly, Archibald Boatswain was a commoner,” the king said thoughtfully as he tapped his ring on the side of his glass. “I’m not fond of this entrance fee matter. I’ll have someone look into it.”

  I was relieved. “My thanks, Your Majesty.”

  “And your other request?” he asked before finishing off his drink.

  “Your Majesty, I’m sure you know Lord Byron was our sponsor. And, perhaps, you heard rumor regarding my personal relationship with him. In truth, George Byron was someone very dear to me. I was quite saddened to know he is not permitted burial in the Poet’s Corner in Westminster.”

  King George smiled at me. “I must admit, Lily, I always rather liked Byron. I did suggest to my ministers that Westminster permit his body. I was told that my interference in the matter was not advisable.”

  I frowned but nodded. “I understand. My thanks, Your Majesty, for hearing my request.”

  “Love,” he said then stood. “Not one Gordon or Byron has petitioned me on the matter. They just complain bitterly about it in the streets. Wherever Byron is, surely your love makes him prouder than any dusty plaque in Westminster.” He then motioned to his attendants that he was ready to go.

  I rose, Angus and Jessup falling in behind me, and followed the monarch to the rail of the Stargazer.

  “Good luck in the qualifying. You have the blessing of this realm! I look forward to seeing what you do in the ’24 Prix,” he said with a wink then hobbled off the ship.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” I replied.

  Behind me, Angus and Jessup bowed.

  Without looking back, King George headed back to his castle. We watched him go, all of us taking in the magnitude of what had just happened. When he was gone, they shooed us out of port, which was fine with me. After all, I was a bride. Tonight was my wedding night.

  “IF I DIDN’T KNOW BETTER, I’d say this was a penny wedding,” Duncan said with a laugh as Angus, Duncan, and I leaned against the bar at Rose’s Hopper and watched our friends swinging arm in arm to the fast tunes of the fiddlers. They weaved in and out of the timber columns.

  He was right. The reception was raucous. Every London airship crew, most of the tinkers from the Market, Sal’s apprentices, and even some friends from Covent Garden had come. Sal and I had hosted our friends for dinner and now most of the tables and chairs had been pushed aside for dancing. Sometimes you don’t see how much you are truly loved until the evidence is right under your nose.

  “Look at your Italian. I’d swear he’s got some Celtic blood in him after all,” Duncan said with a smile.

  Sal was smiling widely as he danced arm in arm with his young apprentices. He turned and smiled at me.

  Angus dropped his arm around me and pulled me close. His dark blue eyes crinkling at the corners, he pinched my cheek. “Well done,” he whispered.

  I winked at him.

  Jessup, who had not yet taken off his suit, joined us at the bar and called for ale. He’d been dancing with Helena most of the night. I’d pretended not to notice, for now. Angus, on the other hand, was not as patient.

  “Brother, where do you suppose that Helena is from?” Angus asked Duncan.

  Duncan shrugged. “Buxom lass. She looks like a farm girl.”

  Jessup eyed the two of them over his mug.

  “Aye, no doubt Jessup will nose it out. He’s been at country matters all night,” Angus said with a chuckle.

  Jessup spit out his drink.

  “You keep dancing like that, you’ll run out of energy for it,” Angus told Jessup.

  “For what?” I asked leadingly.

  “Why Lily, for country matters, of course,” Angus joked.

  We all laughed.

  “Enough, enough,” Jessup said with a chuckle. “Nice girl, though,” he said, arching his eyebrows up and down twice.

  We laughed again.

  The reel soon ended. Brummie, one of the instrument tinkers from the market, rolled out a wooden case. He unlatched the sides to reveal a glass crystallophone. The long, cylindrical glass began to spin as Brummie’s wife pumped a foot pedal. Touching the glass with his fingertips, Brummie coaxed captivating sounds from the instrument. Moments later, he began playing the old Irish melody, Tabhair dom do Lámh.

  “Speaking of country matters,” I said as Mandy, who had shifted into a black and white striped gown, crossed the room toward Duncan. Wordlessly, she held out her hand. Grinning, Duncan went with her.

  Moments later, Sal came to me, kissed my hand sweetly, and led me to the dance floor. “How lovely you look, my Lily,” he said as he pulled me close to him.

  While we were in audience with King George, Sal had made the arrangements at Rose’s Hopper and purchased me a simple white gown trimmed with small pearls and embroidered with silver thread. It was an elegant dress. “Fit for a bride,” Sal had said simply as he lovingly watched me slide into the garment. He’d pinned a simple white lily in my hair to complete the look. I felt like a bride.

  Sal had, months before, crafted us a beautiful set of wedding bands. He had been keeping them aside, waiting for their time to come. On the matching bands, he had engraved two swans holding a single anemone flower between their beaks. When Sal had taken my hand in the church to slide the ring on, I saw him gaze at the ring Byron had left for me. I wanted to take it off, but my heart would not let it go. Byron was gone, but I wanted him to journey with me and share in my joys and my failures. This day, he could share in my joy.

  Sal pulled me close, kissing me gently, then we danced to the sweet, echoing music. The song, gentled by the glass, filled the tavern with the subtle, fragile lay. In that moment, I saw only Sal. It seemed like silver light glowed all around him. As I gazed at him, I was taken back to that moment aboard the Bacchus when I had truly seen him, heart and soul, for the first time. Through him, I had finally started to see myself.

  When the music ended, Sal and I kissed gently. The entire crowd burst into applause. I smiled at Sal then motioned I wanted to sit. Still coming off my binge, I felt exhausted.

  “Can I bring you anything?” he asked.

  I suppressed at least a hundred different urges. “No, I’m just feeling a bit tired.”

  Sal nodded, kissed me on the forehead, then went to talk to our guests. A few minutes later, the tavern door opened. Henry entered with Mr. Spencer. Henry led the man to my table. I rose to meet them.

  “Congratulations, Mrs. Colonna,” Henry said, kissing me on both cheeks.

  “Thank you! Go have some fun,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. I turned to Mr. Spencer. “Sir, I am so sorry. I had not intended for you to come all the way to London.”

  “It’s all right,” Mr. Spencer said as he took off his cap. “I was actually preparing to come to London when your young man called. How delightful that I can celebrate your nuptials. Congratulations!”

  “Thank you,” I said with a smile then motioned for him to sit. I waved to Regina, one of the barmaids, to bring the man ale.

  “We can wait until tomorrow to transact business if you like. I will be in London for two days,” he said.

  “No. That’s all right. The request is a simple one, but one I needed to speak to you about in person.”

  Regina set the ale in front of Mr. Spencer and a glass of lemonade in front of me. She winked knowingly at me. How many times had they seen me try to sober up? They were getting used to the protocol.<
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  “Then let’s be done with it so you can rejoin the merriment!” Mr. Spencer took a small notepad from his pocket.

  “The inheritance Lord Byron left for me, the personal monetary inheritance. I want that account divided in half. Please put half of the funds in Ada Byron’s name with the stipulation that she does not know about nor receive the inheritance until her marriage or maturity. Not until she is out of Lady Byron’s care. After that time, please ensure she is given access to the account.”

  Mr. Spencer gave me a curious look. “As you wish,” he said but added, “but you do realize the money will become part of her husband’s estate if she marries, as the law stipulates.”

  “I suspect Ada will marry well,” I said but then paused. “Mr. Spencer, the estate of Arcadia . . . given my marriage . . .”

  He shook his head. “Madame, the laws governing the estate in protectorate are set aside from the normal governance of this realm,” he said then considered. “Perhaps, as an indispensable part of its governance, one might say.”

  His words were not lost on me. I nodded. “Regarding the other half of the funds . . . I want the other half of the inheritance held for someone else. His name is . . . Robin Byron.”

  Mr. Spencer’s pen halted, and he looked up from his notes. “Robin Byron?”

  I felt my hands shake. I hid them in my lap. “Yes, Sir. Please . . . Robin . . . the account . . . must be kept in discretion.”

  He nodded. “I understand. Please know that all matters of the Wardens of Arcadia are kept private—those living or those beyond. Is Robin of maturity?”

  I nodded.

  “How shall we notif-?”

  “I’ll take care of it,” I said. I would see Robin again. Just, not yet.

  “If you don’t mind me saying, Miss Stargazer. No, it’s Colonna now, isn’t it? We’ll make note of the change. But if you don’t mind me saying, Lord Byron would have wanted you to keep something for yourself. Some, even if small, percentage of the account for your own needs? I know firsthand that he was quite . . . concerned for you,” he said then gazed down at the ring. I wondered for a moment what George had said to the man. “I believe . . . no, I know . . . Lord Byron wanted you to have something.”