Florence Nightingale Comedy Mysteries Box Set
Page 41
“Finding the glass vials in Dr. Sparks’ chambers, I dashed to Vauxhall Gardens to prevent the Queen from placing her life in his hands. Unfortunately I arrived moments after the balloon left the ground. Queen Victoria and Miss Throckmorton smiled bravely, returning my frantic waves. They were oblivious to the coroner’s plans and thought I was wishing them bon voyage.”
Chapter 21
Glancing about the room, Florence allowed herself a rare show of emotions. “I cannot find the words to describe the sense of devastation I felt as the bag of hot air rose carrying those innocent parties to their dark fates.”
The memory of Florence falling away as the balloon soared, terrified me anew. I felt again the sensation of the basket tipping and the balloon leaning out of control. My palms grew damp from the memory.
“Only through the use of hand signals was I finally able to alert Poppy, Miss Throckmorten, to the dire situation they were in.”
“And how did I come to learn the particulars of the coroner’s scheme? I have these two brave balloonists to thank,” she pointed to me and then to Moon. “Thinking he had made good his escape, once the hot air balloon was aloft, the late Dr. Sparks took to boasting of his accomplishments. He brazenly confessed his plan to kidnap Queen Victoria assuming his passengers could do nothing to stop him. The Queen valiantly struggled to escape. Thank goodness, Miss Throckmorten detained her for there was no way out but down.”
Queen Victoria flushed as she sent a smile my way. I caught it and tucked it into my heart where it would be forever safe. Florence continued to detail the events that occurred while we were rising into the sky and she was but a screaming speck on the ground.
“Too caught up in his own bravado, Dr. Sparks failed to understand that at those times when Moon was assisting him in his liftoffs and landings, he was studying how to negotiate the hot air balloon. Not only does this valiant footman have a brave heart but he is quick to learn.”
Moon remained straight faced as if Florence was praising someone else. He ignored my attempt to catch his eye maintaining his most serious composure. He would make a wonderful Dragoon—someday.
Clearing her throat, Florence continued. “Dr. Sparks was an opportunist and a blackguard which in this case was a good thing. He had no intention of pushing Queen Victoria from the balloon, not when he might hold Her Majesty for ransom. The British people would pay dearly to get their queen back.”
Granny wrapped her thin arm around me, pulling me close. “Not to worry dear. My lips are sealed. Your parents will never know your feet were off the ground,” she whispered. I gave her a tender kiss on the cheek and continued to listen to Florence. Goodness but my friend went on. The entire adventure had taken less than thirty minutes and yet Florence made it sound like a trip across Europe.
Shaking her head, Florence finished the tale causing me to relive each moment. I was eager to spend some time alone with Moon and wished she would pronounce those glorious words—the end.
“Moon had proven himself useful to Dr. Sparks in maneuvering the balloon and might be of assistance to the coroner when they finally put down. Heaven only knows what Dr. Sparks intended to do with Miss Throckmorten. He did threaten her with most serious injury if not death. He was an evil man.”
“He was a bag full of angry ferrets!” Granny yelled.
I realized I was of no use to Dr. Sparks, and my presence had been a disappointment. It was Florence he wished to impress—no—torment. He wanted to see her humbled before his almighty balloon. I was thankful I was her replacement for if their competitive natures had clashed in the sky the results might have been much different.
“In conclusion, justice prevailed once the coroner confessed his intentions. Mr. Moon wrestled with him, almost losing his own life in the ensuing skirmish. Dr. Sparks tumbled from the basket, falling to his death, while carrying the Averoff Emerald in his waistcoat pocket. We have a hero in our midst.”
“Would the footman, Moon, present himself to us?” Queen Victoria said.
The assembly parted allowing Moon to approach the Queen. Although I knew he disliked being the center of attention, he carried himself forward with humble dignity. Just when I thought he might not acknowledge me, he turned his head and shot me a wink.
“You have served your country and your Queen well. In risking your own life to save your Queen, I hereby bestow on you the Most Noble Order of the Garter.”
Epilogue
Prince Albert was every bit as kind as the Queen had described. When we were alone in their company, they dropped royal protocol letting it clink to the floor. They held hands and stared lovingly at one another. It was enough to make even Florence believe in romantic love. My friend didn’t say as much, I just assumed it by the look on her face.
One week after the incident, Queen Victoria confessed her near miss with death to Albert. He was so grateful to Moon for saving his angel’s life; the Prince insisted the footman be honored. Three days later we gathered to witness the knighting of John Moon.
I did not know the names of all the guests assembled in the throne room that afternoon, but the important people were there: Florence, Granny, and me. Through my misty eyes I watched as Lord Melbourne removed his sword from its scabbard and carefully handed the heavy blade to Victoria as Moon knelt before her.
The Queen managed the heavy broad sword quite handily as she brought it down first on Moon’s right shoulder and then his left. “I dub thee Sir John Moon. Henceforth be known as Sir John of Heathrow.”
I could not stop the tears as they trickled down my cheeks. My love was receiving the honor he deserved along with the deed to a small but charming estate called Heathrow. The property lay just north of London.
We stayed on for the wedding, which was a beautiful affair. Although there were throngs of family in the Chapel Royal at St. James Palace, the ceremony still carried the feeling of a close personal affair. Love was in the air and seemed to touch everyone—each in a slightly different way.
We Derbyshire Damsels stood silent in the gathering of family and friends, each of us wearing small wreaths of flowers instead of bonnets; even Florence had tiny blossoms in her hair. It was a sight I shall never forget. Queen Victoria was a divine vision in a white gown made of heavy silk satin overlaid with Devon lace. She seemed to glow with an angelic light as she stood next to her tall handsome prince, resplendent in a bright red velvet coat and white breeches.
The day after the ceremony, one of Albert’s distant relatives purchased the Averoff Emerald depositing funds in the National Provincial Bank on Threadneedle Street in London. Florence was beside herself with joy. She would return to London in the spring to begin supervising the design for the Nightingale School for Nurses and personally direct the hiring of a new royal coroner.
Within a fortnight, the Derbyshire Damsels returned home by royal carriage. Alone and with some privacy afforded by the clattering of the horses, we were free to share our thoughts.
Florence held Athena on her lap in a protective cuddle. “It was wise of the Queen to send Prince George back to Lord Cumberland. To keep that sniffling coward in a dungeon or worse yet, to execute him, would only have incited a war between England and Hanover.” She put a finger to her lips while pointing her chin in the direction of her lap where Athena had nodded off, her huge owl eyes closed.
Florence lowered her voice to a whisper. “I wonder what punishment Lord Cumberland will inflict on his son, particularly after Victoria’s edict forbidding any Hanoverian from entering England ever again.”
At that moment we had no way of knowing that within a few years the question was to become moot as Hanover would meld into Germany and was never to be heard of again.
“I must admit I was surprised when her majesty agreed to the balloon ride with Dr. Sparks,” she whispered. “What if Moon had not been onboard?”
“I doubt she will be taking any more risks. Prince Albert is so protective,” Granny said. She turned to me with a teasing grin. “Soon you�
�ll know how it feels my little thrill seeker. I imagine I shall pay long visits to Moon’s new estate once you are wed.” She squeezed my hand with her tiny pink gloves.
Moon thought it best for me to prepare my parents before his arrival at our home. Sir John Moon, a member of the Queen’s court would meet with my father to ask for my hand in marriage. I was certain my father would agree, but would insist we wait until my 18th birthday. It would be impossible to tolerate the wait—more than a year away.
I would like to enter into my journal that we all lived happily ever after, and so I shall.
We lived all happily ever after!
The End
Historical Notes
The following characters are real life; all the others are figments of my imagination. I confess to having played with history to create this third adventure in the Florence Nightingale Comedy Mystery series.