Bexley-Smythe Quintet 01 - Flight of Fancy Read online

  Still, he finished pulling all of his clothing on and headed out the door, signaling for Bridge to come with him. One thing was certain—she wasn’t in his bachelor lodgings.

  Perhaps one of her friends would know where he might find her. If he could convince them that she might be in danger with Haworth, or at the very least that her reputation was at risk, maybe they would divulge her secrets.

  But then again, maybe they wouldn’t. He had to try, though.

  He took off on foot towards the Casemore household with Bridge at his side. It almost felt like old times, two friends off to slay dragons together. Almost, but things had certainly changed since they were boys, not the least of which being that they were now chasing Georgie, instead of Georgie chasing them.

  And this time, there might truly be a dragon to slay.

  The balloon was massive and beautiful, rising up to be visible over the tops of the trees in Green Park, with red and yellow silk in vertical stripes covered with a rope net. The ropes came down over the side and attached to the basket.

  Georgie couldn’t stop her limbs from trembling as she excitedly climbed down from Haworth’s carriage and dashed towards the waiting flying machine.

  He came along beside her, but at a much more sedate pace. “It uses hydro—”

  “Hydrogen gas, yes,” Georgie interrupted breathlessly. “Hydrogen is lighter than oxygen, and concentrating it beneath the balloon will lift our weight into the air.”

  “That’s correct.” Haworth cleared his throat and looked at her askance as they came up to the basket. Several men were holding it in place by the ropes coming down from the netting. He nodded to them. “When we’re ready to descend—”

  “We’ll release some of the hydrogen.” Georgie blushed when he looked at her with perplexity. “I apologize, my lord. I’m fully aware of the scientific principles behind it all. What I don’t know is how it feels to fly.”

  Haworth gave her a wry grin. “Well, I suppose we should move along with this, then, shouldn’t we? No reason to keep you waiting any longer than absolutely necessary.”

  “Indeed.” Particularly because the twinges of nerves that had been dancing in her stomach for the previous couple of days had been more than enough to send her to Bedlam before they’d become more like a chisel and hammer, etching a new surface on her insides.

  If they didn’t get up in the air soon, she might not be able to for lack of control over her body.

  Side by side, Georgie and Haworth made the brief trek across the open expanse at Green Park towards the balloon.

  “You’re certain these men who are assisting you are discreet?” she asked once more as they drew closer. She still couldn’t make out their faces, but it wouldn’t be much longer before she would be able to. The last thing she needed was to have someone run off to report on her adventure to Mother.

  “Positive. Much like your brother, they owe me a debt of sorts. This is one of many ways they’re able to repay me. They won’t say a word to a single soul.”

  She nodded, chewing on her lip. Surely, once they were up in the air, they’d be high enough no one would be able to recognize her. Wouldn’t they?

  But then, that was why they were taking off from Green Park, after all. Anyone of importance out for a stroll or a ride would be at Hyde Park or somewhere along Rotten Row. No one would bother with Green Park. Her anonymity would be assured, once they were high enough in the air to clear the trees. She was sure of it.

  When they finally reached the basket, Georgie looked up, trying to see all the way to the top of the balloon. It was so far up in the air that she felt like she’d fall over backwards if she stretched her neck back any farther. “Gracious, it is even bigger than I’d imagined.”

  “Four hundred sixty cubic feet, my lady.” Haworth winked at her. “It will hold enough hydrogen that we could take two other people with us, if we were so inclined.”

  She did a quick calculation in her head, factoring in the likely weight of the basket. “I’d wager it could carry six grown people, actually.”

  He lifted a brow. “You may be right. I’ve never taken more than four, however.”

  Debating the physics and chemistry involved was not aiding her cause. Georgie bit the inside of her cheek to keep from spouting off with any other random and inane facts which no one would care about. “Very well. Let’s get started. How do I get into the basket?” It stood nearly to her waist, and there was no door that she could see.

  “I’ll have to lift you over.”

  Damn and blast, she hadn’t planned on that. Thank goodness no one she knew was around to see such a sight. She nodded and pressed her eyes closed, hoping it would be over in an instant.

  He put his hands to her hips and grasped her. The heat of a blush crept over her face, and she cursed her inability to hide anything from anyone at any time. It was highly inconvenient.

  “No need to be embarrassed. Lifting your skirts and climbing over by yourself would be far more awkward, I can assure you.” Haworth firmed his grip on her. “You’ll need to steady yourself by holding onto my shoulders.”

  She placed her hands gingerly where he directed, and then she was off her feet. Before she could protest, he had her back on her feet inside the basket. With a leap, he came over to stand beside her.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  Georgie nodded, keeping her eyes pressed tightly closed for some reason.

  “Let us go, boys!” Haworth called out, and then he chuckled. “You’ll want to open your eyes for this.”

  The weight of the basket shifted beneath her, and then it all wobbled slightly as they left the ground. Georgie’s eyes flew open as wide as they would go, as they left the earth far more quickly than she ever would have imagined.

  “Oh!” she cried, desperately reaching for the edge of the basket. Within seconds, she was at eye level with the trees and continuing to rise.

  It wasn’t fear she felt—far from it. At the moment, her heart was soaring and her soul flew alongside with her. The breeze fluttered her hair, and she looked down over the edge of the basket at the men below who’d held the balloon down.

  “They look so small,” she said in awe. It made sense, of course. When one was many feet away from an object, its appearance seemed diminished whether the distance was horizontal or vertical. Yet she hadn’t expected it to be quite like this, for whatever reason.

  “They’ll look smaller yet in a few moments. We have a bit higher to go before we’ll travel any great distance.”

  As the balloon lifted them higher into the sky, streets and houses and parks and buildings all fell into place. “It’s just like a map,” she mused aloud.

  “One wonders how they created maps before they could fly.” Haworth fiddled with some instruments and handles, and a rudder moved out to guide their path through the air. He was kind enough to refrain from openly laughing at her awe, but he couldn’t hide a small chuckle.

  Georgie took a moment away from staring out at London below her to examine his gauges. In all of the reading she’d done about gas balloons, nothing had been mentioned about the necessity of having a gauge on board for any purpose. Then she made out what the smaller of the two was. “You’ve got a barometer with us!”

  This time, Haworth could not contain his laughter at all. “Would you like to see how it works?” he asked when he could finally breathe again.

  She knew how it worked, of course. But that didn’t mean she’d ever used one before. Georgie nodded, and then she waited for him to situate everything just so.

  This flight was proving to be everything she’d wanted and more.

  Halfway to Berkswell House, Bridge had stopped in the middle of crossing a busy street and looked at Cedric like he was a Bedlamite. “Isn’t Moira’s house closer than Pippa’s?”

  And of course, it was. Bridge seemed to think that Cedric ought to be able to think clearly and sort all of that out, for whatever reason. Nevertheless, Cedric thought better of start
ing an argument at that precise moment and instead agreed.

  They made their way to Moira Kirkwood’s home, where the Dowager Countess of Hearne informed them that her daughter had gone for a ride in Hyde Park with a gentleman suitor, and added that she had no idea where Lady Georgianna might be as she was not that debutante’s chaperone, thank the Lord. Mere seconds later, she closed the door on them.

  “To Hyde Park, then?” Bridge muttered.

  Cedric didn’t respond. He just took off in that direction.

  When they arrived at the park, it was, of course, the fashionable hour. Finding anyone specific within the crush would be a daunting task, at best. It was a task that must be undertaken, though.

  “I’ll look by Rotten Row,” Cedric decided. Perhaps Georgie would be with Moira and her gentleman. It was unlikely, but worth testing that line of thinking. “Why don’t you look in the main park, where people are afoot? We can cover more ground if we split up.”

  Bridge grunted, but took off in the proscribed direction.

  Cedric turned his attention to those on horseback and in carriages, searching for the face of Georgie or any of her young friends. He’d been at it for at least a half hour, coming across any number of friends and acquaintances but not one of Georgie’s friends, when everyone around him started saying “Ooh,” or “Aah,” and pointing up in the sky.

  He was determined to ignore their fascination with whatever might be taking place…until one young lady directly next to him almost squealed, “Why, it’s Lady Georgianna!”

  “You really can’t be running out of hydrogen gas right now,” Georgie grumbled. It was the worst timing in the world. The wind had been rather uncooperative, so they’d flown over Green Park, crossed over the Thames, and looked down at Vauxhall. But then the direction of the wind changed considerably, and they crossed the Thames again, saw Ranelagh Gardens from the sky, before taking the scenic path up to Hampstead Heath. Yet another change in the wind had them heading back towards Mayfair—which was good. At least on the surface.

  Lord Haworth’s plan, when he realized where the wind was taking them, was to land the balloon at Green Park, as close to the same spot where they’d launched from as he could manage.

  “I’m afraid so, my lady,” Haworth confirmed, as it became exceedingly clearer by the moment how they were traveling in quite the wrong direction for Green Park, and quite the right direction for Hyde Park. He looked up inside the envelope of the balloon again and pointed. “We have a hole, and the hydrogen is escaping into the atmosphere. Not only that, but the hole is growing.”

  The balloon had already descended enough that, yet again, she could almost make out the faces of the people looking up at them. Georgie wanted to shrink away, to find somewhere to hide, but there is nowhere to hide in the basket of a gas balloon.

  They drifted lower, and she could see people pointing up at them. Good heavens, this wasn’t what she’d intended. She had no desire for anyone to know that she’d been alone up in a balloon with Lord Haworth. She just wanted to fly.

  But however much she wanted anonymity in her pursuit, it seemed her desires were destined to be foiled. After a few more minutes, she could make out specific faces from below.

  “Isn’t there anything you can do?” she begged. “Your rudder? Can you guide us further away from the crowd?”

  Even as she asked, she knew there was not anything to be done. A rudder could neither create more hydrogen nor repair the hole in the silk. Haworth’s lack of response only confirmed what she already knew.

  They were coming down, whether she was prepared for that eventuality or not.

  A strong gust of wind from below buoyed them somewhat, and another from behind gave them more speed. Perhaps they’d make it past Hyde Park. The last thing she wanted was to land in the Serpentine, and it had been looking like that might very well happen. Her best hope was to rush past all of the onlookers out for a ride on Rotten Row and over the line of trees separating Hyde Park from Kensington Gardens. There shouldn’t be too much of a crowd gathered at Kensington. Perhaps she could escape with no one recognizing her.

  Granted, she’d still have to explain her disappearance to her mother. But that would not be such a daunting task if she hadn’t been seen.

  “We might make it past the trees,” Haworth said beside her.

  She started saying a silent prayer as they flew.Please let us get past the trees. Please let us get past the trees. Please let us get past the trees.

  With each passing moment, they came closer to the line of trees…so close, in fact, that she thought they might crash into one of them.

  “We won’t hit the trees, will we?” she asked tentatively.

  “I can’t promise that.”

  Oh, heavens. Suddenly, Georgie was no longer focused on the people below who might or might not recognize her.

  “What happens if we hit the trees?”

  Georgie turned to look at Haworth, and his normally light eyes were dark and intense. That didn’t bode well.

  Nor did the slight shake of his head.

  Her prayer changed almost instantaneously.Please let us not hit the trees. Please let us not hit the trees.

  Everything seemed to slow down and speed up before her at the same time. The balloon and basket started descending again, and the line of trees moved closer into view at a steady pace. She wanted to drop down on her knees so she couldn’t see, but that would only increase her anxiety. Instead, she watched obsessively as they drew closer, closer, closer still.

  The looming barrier never moved.

  “Brace yourself,” Haworth said behind her. He moved next to her and grasped the side of the basket with both hands.

  Georgie did the same, not knowing anything else to do.

  The tops of the trees were so close, she felt like she could lean over and touch them. She sucked in a breath and held it, waiting for the impact.

  The basket rocked as it brushed the top of a tree, but kept moving forwards at a snail’s pace. She blew out her breath and looked over at Haworth.

  He smiled at her and nodded. “I think we’ll clear it.”

  “Georgie!”

  It was Monty’s panicked voice coming from below.

  Cedric ran until his lungs burned and his legs ached and he thought he would die if he didn’t reach her in time.

  In time for what? Well, that was still up for debate.

  It was bad enough when he’d realized Georgie was in a balloon alone with Haworth, for all the ton to see. Bad enough quickly became much, much worse when he realized that very balloon was careening towards the line of trees growing between Rotten Row and Kensington Gardens.

  All sense of reason left him at that moment, and he took off, no longer caring who saw him or what they thought of him. They could cart him off to an asylum, if they liked—but he was going to get to Georgie and make sure she was safe.

  And then he was going to throttle her for giving him such a scare.

  But first she had to be safe.

  So he ran. He dashed before horses and carriages on Rotten Row, he tossed himself through tree branches, he flailed and fell and flailed some more until he reached the open expanse of Kensington Gardens, all with no regard for himself.

  At least when he came to the other side of the trees, he saw that the balloon had not crashed into them, but had merely grazed the top. A few small branches had been knocked to the ground, and a number more were sticking out of the basket as it soared ever closer to the earth.

  “Monty? What in God’s name are you doing?” Georgie called down to him.

  Answering her would take too much effort at the moment. Instead, he kept running.

  The trees provided a barrier against the wind, so their forwards progress slowed considerably. A few moments after bursting through, he was beneath them. He slowed at that point to keep pace with the craft, never letting the ropes hanging down from the basket out of his sight.

  Slowing his pace, regrettably, did nothing to
slow the pace of his breathing or the rapid pounding of his heart. Each breath was a life-giving gasp, jagged and painful and necessary.

  “I think he just might kill himself in trying to rescue you,” Haworth said to Georgie. “There’s nothing you can do for her from down there, you know,” he called down over the edge of the basket. “She’s perfectly safe until we land.”

  He’d believe her perfectly safe when he could verify it on his own terms, by God.

  The basket kept creeping lower, closer to the ground. Cedric could almost reach one of the ropes.

  In fact, if he made a running jump…

  He stopped for a moment and took a few breaths.

  “Finally, he’s being sensible,” Haworth said.

  Then Cedric filled his lungs, ran as fast as he could, and leapt for one of the ropes. His fingers grasped it, but it wasn’t enough. He fell with a thud and landed on his arse.

  The whole basket rocked from his brief encounter with the rope. “Oh, Monty!” Georgie cried. “Please don’t hurt yourself.”

  Too late for that, but he’d hurt far worse if anything happened to her.

  “It appears I spoke to soon,” Haworth responded dryly.

  Cedric picked himself up, wincing at the pain in his ankle, and took off again. This time, he got a good enough grip on the rope that he could maintain it. Moving hand over hand, he pulled himself up it a few inches at a time.

  He was almost to the point in which he could use his legs to assist the climb, but his lungs threatened to give out. Cedric looked down. The fall before had hurt. This was a much farther drop.

  “Lord Haworth, you have to help him.”

  Georgie’s voice gave him an added boost, and Cedric inched upwards again.

  “You do realize he’s a madman, don’t you?”

  But then, the rope began to rise as Haworth pulled it in a bit at a time, even as Cedric continued to climb. In a few minutes, Haworth reached down a hand and Cedric was able to clasp it with his own. The viscount pulled him the rest of the way into the basket, and Cedric crumpled in a heap at the bottom, desperate for air.