Florence Nightingale Comedy Mysteries Box Set

by Barbara Silkstone

What we have done? I wanted to ask why she was including Granny and me as responsible for whatever this flight caper was, but I bit my tongue. She was the monarch, and we were her loyal subjects—ready to lay down our lives for her. I did not like those words as they thrummed through my head.

  “Your Majesty, may I ask what flight it is you mention?” I said, already guessing the answer.

  Performing a quick spin on her heels, the Queen trilled, “We are going up in Dr. Sparks’ hot air balloon! Now hurry! We are to meet him at Vauxhall Gardens within the hour. And not a word to anyone!” She repeated, putting her finger to her lips.

  We swept out her chamber door, and accompanied by only one Dragoon, we stepped into an unmarked Palace carriage. I wished I could alert Florence or Lord Melbourne, but there was no time as we hurried along. I was going flying without wings. My palms were soaked wet with fear.

  It was impossible to keep the panic from my face as our carriage drew near Vauxhall Gardens. My heart lodged in my throat and I dared not look at my grandmother. A roar, which I can only describe as the sound of an angry dragon, cleaved the air. Even the ground seemed to vibrate under the carriage. In my entire life I had never heard such a terrifying noise. I would have made notes in my journal but my hands trembled so, there was no point in attempting to write.

  The sun came over the horizon, casting a warm glow over the field and two figures who labored over what appeared to be a mountain of cloth. Dr. Sparks and yes … Moon! Oh surely my love would prevent my flying in that bag of air! Somehow I would signal my desire not to fly today or any other day.

  A groom dropped from the top of the coach and handed the Queen to the frosty ground. He helped the Baroness, then Granny, and finally me. The poor dear was shivering and most likely not from the cold. Queen’s wishes or not, I had no intention of letting my grandmother get in the small wicker basket that lay on the ground next to the fire belching beast.

  The Queen sent the carriage off so the coachmen would not witness her risky behavior. The fewer people that knew the less likely her subjects would be to object to her risk taking. If she were to be killed, the throne would pass to Lord Cumberland. Cumberland the Butcher.

  Chapter 16

  We set out across the field; the dew crunching beneath our shoes while the cold air fogged our panting breath. The multicolored balloon lay half on its side tethered by ropes secured to the earth. It struggled to break free. Oh, blow away without us! Go! Shoo!

  Dr. Sparks approached beaming a jolly smile. Moon remained with the growing monster, fighting the sack of hot air that was as large as a small cottage. The coroner bowed, moving his hand in a showy sweep. “Your Majesty! You have come! I feared you might change your mind. You will be forever glad you took this little ride! It is a perfect day for it.” He blathered on. “Are you warm enough or shall I fetch a shawl from my carriage?”

  Victoria nodded, soundless words coming from her lips in a puff of fog. She wore a heavy cloak, gloves and an ermine hat. Granny and I trembled; our robes were not designed for lingering out of doors in early dawn. Had I known what the Queen intended I would not have come at all.

  Dr. Sparks studied our group. “The basket only holds four people. The footman Moon will be assisting me. Our landing may be a bit rough and so I suggest…” again his eyes scanned our group. “I think the Baroness and Mrs. Throckmorten should stay behind. Miss Throckmorten, if you will join us? A pity Miss Nightingale could not be here, she would have been an excellent fourth.” He turned to me with a taunting look in his eyes. “I hope I have not offended your friend. She has been avoiding me since I sent her from the morgue.” He shrugged. “She cannot possibly imagine what she will miss this morning.”

  Stepping aside the coroner balloonist motioned to the behemoth as if we could miss seeing it. The colorful bag of hot air began to stand erect. Both the Queen and I hesitated. Dr. Sparks chuckled. “It is a frightening sight when the balloon begins to waken. As experienced as I am I still feel a quickening when she stands. But fear not you are in good hands. I have flown back and forth across the Channel many times.”

  The Queen looked at Dr. Sparks, her eyes reflecting dismay. “We are not crossing the Channel! You offered to take us over nearby pastures. I would not wish to upset my subjects and they would be should they see their ruler engaging in such perilous conduct. We must be discreet!”

  “No. No. Fear not. We will only float in the sky for a few minutes. You will understand why ballooning can be pure ecstasy. This outing shall offer you a little fun before you have a husband controlling your days.”

  Stammering in defense of her independence, Queen Victoria said, “Albert will be Prince Consort and my husband, but he shall not dictate the boundaries of my life.”

  Hands on her waist, she led the way. We approached the fire-breathing balloon that had now pulled the basket upright.

  “How do we get in this little container?” She ran her hand along the leather-wrapped rolled edges of the wicker. “Is there a door?”

  “If I may take liberties. Let me demonstrate with Miss Throckmorten.” Before I could resist, the coroner balloonist placed his hands on my middle, lifted me up and dropped me into the basket.

  I was mortified as I had not bothered to wear my corset. Detesting the discomfort, I wore only a chemise under my dress, so certain that we would spend the day in the company of women—only women. Dr. Sparks gave me an odd look. He knew I was unharnessed. Dang!

  Once the Queen saw how I was deposited in the carrier, she allowed him to lift her into the basket. He guided her to the corner opposite me. “To balance the load,” he said.

  My palms could not have been any wetter if I had soaked them in a bowl of water. With my right hand I clung to one of the ropes while my left hand had a death grip on the padded leather lip of the carrier.

  I exchanged alarmed looks with Granny while mouthing the words: I love you!

  “She’s almost ready!” Dr. Sparks called. The balloon, now straight over our heads, terrified me. I had never seen anything so large. “Once we are airborne, you will observe how Moon will one-by-one slash those sandbags hanging from the sides. Releasing the sand will cause us to go higher and higher.” Oh goody. I wondered how upset the Queen would be if I jumped ship—so to speak. The rim of the basket was not very high; it came to my waist and much lower on the two men.

  “H…how do we go down?” I yelled over the roar of the burners that were heating the air in the balloon. Flames licked the bottom of the fabric and dropped cinders on my cheeks.

  “We pull on this red rope. It opens the flap at the top letting out the hot air and causing the balloon to fly lower!” Dr. Sparks shouted. I imagined his answer was supposed to make sense, but it didn’t. It hadn’t when Moon explained the concept and it still lacked logic. All I could do was hang on and pray. Mother would not be happy to learn I had died in such a foolhardy manner even if I was in the Queen’s company.

  Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, Moon leaped from the basket. My heart stopped, then promptly restarted as I attempted to scramble out after him. Queen or no Queen, if he was leaving, so was I. A moment later it became clear he was untying the ropes that held the balloon to the ground. He circled the carrier releasing the lines and tossing them to Dr. Sparks. He moved so fast I could barely keep track of him.

  Once Moon jumped back in the basket, I gasped, remembering to breathe. Every bit of my being commanded me to get out but all at once it was too late. The ground dropped away as the balloon drifted upwards soon reaching the height of a tall building. I dared look at Granny who held her gloved hand to her mouth, her teary eyes so large I could see them even as the distance grew.

  I peeked at my companions. Dr. Sparks was fussing with the fire in the burner while Moon leaned over the side, taking a knife to one of the sandbags. “Hold on!” he called—as if that was necessary. I caught sight of the Queen. She was grinning like a child with a new toy.

  As Moon released the sand, the bal
loon lurched, surging upward. I looked down to see Florence had suddenly arrived on the field. She stood between the Baroness and Granny, waving frantically. By her motions I judged her to be unhappy with the risk I was taking. She called out, but the fire-belching burners drowned out the sound of her voice.

  Putting my hand to my ear, I hoped my friend could see and understand my motion. As the balloon soared ever higher, it appeared Florence ran her hand across her throat. I squinted. She was slicing at her throat. What did she mean?

  Chapter 17

  The balloon sailed up and off, catching a strong breeze. Dr. Sparks turned to address the Queen and me. “Balloons are like women, you can’t always tell in what direction they may drift but men can make every effort to control them!”

  I cut Moon a worried look, but he seemed perfectly content dusting the clouds—perhaps he hadn’t heard the coroner’s remark.

  “It really is a shame Miss Nightingale could not join us,” Dr. Sparks said. “I am certain she would have enjoyed a lesson in flying. She seems determined to be as learned as the most brilliant of men.” An odd glint appeared in his eyes as he spoke. If he held any affection for Florence as he confessed to Moon, the coroner now kept those warm feelings well hidden. He seemed eager to compete with her rather than court her.

  “Since we are in for a lengthy journey, I would offer you a seat Your Majesty; but alas there is not enough room,” Dr. Sparks said. “Please make yourself as comfortable as possible,” he said.

  “Explain that last remark,” Queen Victoria demanded with a tremor in her voice.

  Even as she spoke he ceased firing the burner—the silence was deafening. The only sound was the barking of a dog wafting up from the ground as he chased the unexplainable thing in the sky. At that moment I wished the hound could reach up, catch the balloon in his jaws and bring it to earth.

  “Explain? Gladly!” Dr. Sparks sneered at Queen Victoria. “We are taking a little journey to a retreat I have prepared for you. I am certain your loyal subjects will ante up the money to ransom their beloved Monarch.”

  A painful coldness filled my chest, and it wasn’t from the chill January air. I turned to face the Queen. She looked stricken.

  “We will need to gain altitude until we find a wind that will carry us to my chalet in France. My loyal assistant will slice open two more bags of sand as we approach the coast.”

  It was obvious Dr. Sparks considered Moon one of his minions, blindly obeying his directives. Servants were often invisible to those who ranked above them. Looking beyond the coroner I attempted to read the expression on Moon’s face, but could not see him as he worked the ropes.

  Dr. Sparks winked at me. His action was both cheeky and disturbing. “We will have to lighten the basket once we are over the Channel. It will take more than emptying the last of the sand. I estimate we will have to dump approximately seven stones into the water.” He ran his eyes up and down my form. I weighed exactly seven stones.

  Did the fiend intend to push me out of the basket and into the freezing waters of the English Channel? Clutching the rope and the rim even harder, I braced my back against the basket, intent on kicking him if he tried to touch me. The recesses of my mind questioned whether Moon had gone deaf.

  The basket dropped with a terrifying heave. I glanced at the Queen and immediately saw her intention. It was not good. She eyed the ground, which was still a long way away. It was at least the height of the spires at Westminster Abbey. Prying my fingers from the rim I placed my hand over hers and shook my head. With a tilt of her head I guessed she had abandoned the thought of jumping.

  Sensing movement behind me, I turned my head in time to see Moon hit Dr. Sparks in the back of his knees with the tip of his boot. The coroner yelped in pain. He had been caught off guard thinking Moon was blindly obedient. Using the advantages of surprise and the low rim of the basket as a teetering point, Moon shoved the coroner over the side of the basket. I was both shocked and relieved. How else was Moon to manage the maniac while dangling in a basket strung from a balloon and bearing a coal burning fire?

  As he flipped over the rim, Sparks clutched at Moon, managing to grab the sleeve of his coat. “Help me, you bloody fool!” he screamed. Those were his last words aside from a long drawn out “Ahhhh…” as he lost his grip.

  “Don’t look!” Moon said.

  The Queen didn’t look, and neither did I.

  “Your Majesty, Miss Throckmorten, have faith in me. I can bring us safely to earth but do not say another word until we touch the ground. This will take all my powers of concentration. There is a pasture below us, but in the far distance I see a forest. I must get us down before we hit the trees.”

  Moon began to tug on the red rope opening the top of the balloon while lowering the flame on the burner. He performed both acts simultaneously. I would have been very impressed if I wasn’t scared silly.

  “Grab the rim and bend your legs, prepare for a jolt,” he said as the ground rushed up to meet us. “When we hit, I will jump out and pin the balloon to the ground long enough for you both to escape.” There was a worried look in his eyes as he noted our long skirts. “You must get free of the basket with no hesitation. There is still enough air in the fabric to pull the balloon back into the clouds. You must both be fully out of the basket!”

  Tumbling over the rim with my full skirts and petticoats was terrifying as the balloon fought Moon’s grip like a giant bird eager to fly free. I would have helped Queen Victoria, but she seemed to be managing fairly well. The basket leaned enough for us to scoot over the rim onto the ground. The lace on my petticoat became entangled on a sharp point of broken wicker. I ripped it free and rolled partially down the slope of the grass. Victoria was well ahead of me.

  I screamed seeing that one of the ropes was wrapped around Moon’s boot. Ignoring his demands to stay away, I scrambled towards him just as he was about to be lifted off his feet and dragged into the sky. I was not going to lose him, not this way.

  Tugging at the rope which seemed determined to have him, I was able to free his foot while he fought to keep the bag of hot air fixed. Once his foot was free, he grabbed my arm and pulled me away as the balloon drifted upward, and then caught by a strong wind it was dragged into the trees where it burst into flames.

  Chapter 18

  Granny spoke in disgust. “That man was crazy as a bag of ferrets.”

  “It is unfortunate that Dr. Sparks is unable to be with us this morning,” Florence said. “He would have been impressed with my deductions. After diligent research I am able to reveal how our recently departed coroner set out to kill Madame Tchotchke and the motive behind his heinous act. His was a nefarious scheme indeed!”

  She glanced about the room. “I am pleased to see all other parties are in attendance.” She locked eyes with Prince George. Lord Melbourne’s orders regarding a search had ended successfully due to the stupidity of Lord Cumberland’s son. The Prince had made a scene in a pub in the City, claiming someone in Buckingham Palace had betrayed him. As he was half in his cups at the time, no one paid him any mind. But as the evening progressed, two Dragoons who stopped in for a pint overheard him condemn the Queen. Realizing who he was, they forcibly escorted him to Captain Wainright.

  Now Moon and I stood near the Queen and Lord M in the throne room, along with the bleary-eyed George, Granny, Mr. Tchotchke, Captain Wainright, and eight Dragoons. We were assembled to receive Florence’s summation of the crimes.

  Aside from scraped knees and chafed palms, I suffered no physical damage escaping from the basket. I remained shaken knowing how close we had come to dropping to the ground or burning in the sky like pieces of debris from a bonfire.

  The Queen gave no indication of what we had been through. She was small but mighty. I admired her ability to get on with the job ahead.

  Florence stood on the step just below the Queen’s throne, her demeanor one of complete composure. “There is still one of you who has much to answer for. Dr. Sparks has alre
ady paid the ultimate price for his part in his evil scheme.” Athena perched on her shoulder. The owl’s head turned in such a way as to show her adoration for her mistress.

  “This has been a challenging crime to pick apart since the double crosses continued to sprout like mushrooms in the dark of night.” She did that dandy thing she does with her eyes, causing half the people in the room to shrivel and the other half to gather themselves in self-righteous indignation. Florence often said everyone is hiding at least a tad bit of guilt; the suspicion on her face often made many people squirm with hidden shame.

  “Before I address the murder of Madame Tchotchke, with Your Majesty’s permission I would like to question your cousin, Prince George.” The Queen nodded her approval and Florence requested Lord Cumberland’s heir to step closer. His Royal Highness from Hanover did so only because the two Dragoons flanking him urged him forward.

  Florence acknowledged his status with a nod of her head rather than the curtsy due his rank. “Your Highness, I will share what I know and you will confess your sins.” Florence smiled like a kitty about to devour a herring. “You aroused my suspicion from the start by inflicting your presence on the Queen, arriving alone and uninvited. How does a Prince, even one on a small allowance, justify attending a foreign court without at least a valet? I took it that your mission must attract as little attention as possible.”

  Prince George looked uncomfortable in his white satin uniform and bold red sash. He was overdressed for public humiliation. The gold braid and ribbon bedecked medals made him appear ridiculous considering what everyone already knew. I pinched my left palm with the tips of my right fingers to contain my excitement. There is nothing so delicious as watching royalty called to the carpet by a commoner.

  “Even before setting foot in the Palace, you let loose a rodent called Mr. Pink without reporting him to Palace security. Who acts in such a careless manner unless their motives are dark?” She appeared to brace herself—a wise move—considering the Cumberland family reputation for hot tempers. How would the Prince react as she aimed her next question at the heart of his visit?