Chapter Seventeen
Aurelia came down to breakfast at the first sign of light. Pratt was already busying himself in the dining room. “No sign of them yet.” he said cheerfully. “But they’ll be here.”
Aurelia looked around. She must be the only one up.
“Mrs. Esterhill is still resting. Your uncle, too. They were up late—talking.”
“Thank you, Pratt.”
She forced herself to take a cup of tea and a roll. It was difficult getting the roll down past the lump in her throat, but she knew she must eat. There was no telling how long it would take Ranfield to find them. For the hundredth time she asked herself if they had done the right thing. Certainly Phoebe and Harold would be pleased. Their marriage was now assured. And Phoebe’s mama would probably keep her word.
But what about Ranfield? She much disliked the way he’d been looking at her. How much did he suspect? And why hadn’t she thought of that possibility before she got herself tangled in this briar patch?
Oh, if she only got out of this one, she would never again think of making A Plan!
It was midmorning when the curricle turned into the drive. Aurelia, who had been watching for hours, hurried toward the door. But she was not the first to reach it.
Cousin Prudence was already halfway down the outside stairs, the door ajar behind her.
“I see them!” Pratt exclaimed. “The three of them!” Then, as though remembering his place, he gave Aurelia a subdued look. “That is ...”
“It’s all right, Pratt. Thank God, the Earl has found them.”
“Yes, miss. Thank God.”
By the time the curricle reached the steps. Cousin Prudence was at the bottom, weeping great tears of joy.
Before the curricle was fairly stopped, Phoebe tumbled out and into her mama’s welcoming arms. “Oh, my lamb,” moaned Cousin Prudence. “Praise God you’re safe.”
Phoebe looked uncomfortably close to tears. “Oh, Mama, don’t carry on so. Harold would not let anything harm me. I was always safe.”
“Harold ...” Cousin Prudence stopped suddenly, and seemed to realize that the Earl’s eyes were upon her. “Harold will make a good husband, I’m sure.” She cast him a look half anger, half tenderness. “But come, Phoebe. We’ve so much to do.”
“Where’s Papa?” Harold asked, his expression anxious. Aurelia sighed. The two of them were such babies. She hoped they hadn’t already given things away.
“I believe he’s out in the shed.” She allowed herself a little smile. “He was confident the Earl would find you.”
Harold nodded. “I’ll just go out there then.”
Aurelia turned to follow him, but the Earl said, “Miss Amesley, a moment please.”
She wanted to run, but since her legs were so weak that they could hardly hold her, running did not seem a likely solution. She waited, trying to compose herself, while the groom led the stallion away.
The Earl came up and stood in front other. He seemed so towering, so ferocious. “So, have you no questions for me?”
“Questions? No, milord.” Since he was plainly addressing her, she had to raise her eyes to his. His face was expressionless. He stared at her in silence. And yet his voice had conveyed his displeasure quite adequately.
She could feel the blood rising in her cheeks, and finally she could stand his scrutiny no longer. “What is it, milord? Why do you stare at me so?”
He shrugged. “Excuse me. I am merely trying to untangle a puzzle.”
“A puzzle?”
“Yes. I find it difficult to understand how Phoebe, who is your bosom bow, could have undertaken such a venture without your knowledge.”
Careful now, she must not give herself away. She swallowed. “People in love do strange things.”
His smile did not reach his eyes. “So I’ve been told.”
“You talk as though you’ve never ...”She stopped, appalled at what she’d been about to say. “I must go, milord. Phoebe will need me.”
“Of course.”
* * * *
Later that afternoon, after be had slept a little, Ranfield summoned Phoebe to the library. She hesitated inside the door, plainly nervous.
He gestured. “Sit down. I want to talk to you.”
She crossed the room and settled primly on the divan, between the piles of pillows. For a moment silence prevailed. Then she said, “I don’t understand. What is there to talk about?”
He swallowed some words unfit for female ears. “What indeed.” He fixed her with a stern look. “I want to know who planned this elopement.”
“I don’t see what difference that makes. It all worked out quite well. You got Mama’s consent for us. Oh, thank you, Ranfield, for that. We are very happy.”
“That does not answer my question. I cannot believe that Harold would suggest such a thing.”
She frowned. “No, no. He didn’t.”
“Then who did?”
There was only a moment’s hesitation, but enough for him to notice it.
“Why, why I did, of course.” Her bottom lip quivered slightly and then grew firm. “I love him, you see. And I want to be with him.”
“And Aure—— Miss Amesley. What part did she play in this?”
“Why, why none at all.”
The quiver was more pronounced now. She grabbed up a pillow and hugged it to her. And then she paled and dropped it quickly back. But not before he had seen the book that lay beneath it.
He crossed the room. “What is that?”
“W ... what?”
He shoved the pillow aside. “This.”
“Oh. That’s just a romance we were reading. I must have left it in here.”
She reached for it, but he was quicker. The cover was worn by much use. She had had it for some time. He studied her face. “Is it good? Shall I read it?”
“Oh no. It’s ... it’s very dull.”
There was the quiver again. He returned to his chair, taking the book with him.
Phoebe shifted. “Please, Ranfield, may I have my book?”
“Not yet. I want to see how Lady Incognita could be dull.”
The book fell open in his hands. Passages were marked in ink. He turned to the back of it. There were some notations—a series of Es, of Ks.
He summoned his sternest look. “All right, Phoebe, enough of this circumvention. I want the truth or your wedding is off.”
She turned pale and burst into tears. “Oh, I was so wrong about you. I thought you understood love. But you’re a beast ... a hard unyielding beast. No wonder you can’t return Aurelia’s love.”
The words hit him like a blow. “Can’t return ...?”
“Yes. I thought you loved her. So did she. For a while. But this proves it. You don’t care a fig for her. And now ... and now ...”
“Phoebe, my dear.” He crossed the room and put an arm around her. “You’re wrong. I do love Aurelia.”
Her eyes widened. “You do?”
“Yes, I do. But how can I marry a woman who’s always in the suds?”
“But that was on purpose.”
He felt himself sinking ever deeper into a morass of incomprehensibility. “On purpose?”
“Yes, of course. So you could rescue her.”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t understand any of this. Please. Start at the beginning.”
She did so, concluding some minutes later by saying, “And we used the book as a model.” She took it from him. “These marks show what happened. E for embrace. A for kiss.”
He was overwhelmed by the enormity of their undertaking. “And this plan was to result in a proposal of marriage?”
“Yes, of course.” Phoebe sighed. “But after the thing in the caves, Aurelia refused to continue. She feared making you angry.”
“And last night’s misadventure ...”
“It was my fault really. She did suggest that maybe if we were gone. Mama would change her mind. But it was just a suggestion.”
“So you expected me to find you.”
“Of course.”
He considered this for some moments before he asked, “This Plan. Was there more to it?”
“Yes. But I told you. She refused to go on.”
“What was to happen next? Not another runaway.”
“Oh, no. Aurelia cannot ride.”
“Cannot ride.” This piece of information left him almost speechless.
Phoebe patted his hand. “Don’t worry, Ranfield. She won’t try that again.”
“I should hope not. But what ...?”
“We had not quite figured it out. I had a brilliant idea. But Aurelia would not hear of it.”
And no wonder, considering. Still he had to ask, “What was it?”
“A balloon race. I told her she could go down, and you could rescue her. That would be the big rescue, you see, the one that brings on the declaration of love. And the proposal of matrimony.” She signed. “But she wouldn’t hear of it.”
“I see. Phoebe,” he said, “lean closer. I have A Plan.”
* * * *
“A race?” Aurelia stared from Ranfield to Phoebe. Phoebe had mentioned a race earlier. But her friend was happily eating a roll, her face the epitome of innocence.
“Yes,” Ranfield replied. “All summer you have been touting the advantages of the hydrogen balloon. Now I challenge you to put it to the test.”
She frowned. This was not like him. Usually he accepted whatever she said about flight. “But how?”
“We’ll go up together. And whoever reaches the other side of the meadow first is the winner. The loser will concede that the winner’s choice of propellant is the better.”
This scheme was patently ridiculous. “But that will prove nothing ...”
He gazed at her over the rim of his cup. “Are you reluctant to put your beliefs to the test?”
“Of course not.”
He was behaving so strangely. Last evening at dinner he had been silent, hardly saying a word. And now this morning he was overflowing with good spirits.
“But I cannot race,” she said. “I promised Uncle Arthur not to go up alone.”
He waved an expansive hand. “You won’t be alone. I’ll be going up, too.”
“But you’ll be in the other balloon.”
“That will be sufficient. I’ve spoken to your uncle, and he agrees that for this once it is permissible.”
He finished a tremendous plate of ham, eggs, biscuits, and marmalade and emptied his cup. Smiling, he got to his feet. “This afternoon then. Immediately after lunch.”
She watched him stride away, so strong, so handsome. And so irritating. She would never understand such a man. But then, what did it matter? After Phoebe and Harold were married, they would return to London—the four of them. And she would devote her life to aeronautical pursuits. At least she would have Phoebe’s company.
She looked across the table to where Phoebe was leaning close to Harold. The two looked so happy together. Aurelia swallowed a lump that had risen suddenly in her throat. Phoebe could not have had anything to do with this race idea. She was too engrossed in Harold. Still ... “Phoebe, may I speak with you?”
Harold grinned and kissed Phoebe’s cheek. “Papa’s waiting for me in the shed. I’ll meet you there later.”
Phoebe jumped to her feet and came to give Aurelia a hug. “Oh, it’s above all wonderful! We are really and truly going to be married.”
“Yes, my dear. But about this race. What do you know about this race?”
“Why nothing, nothing at all. That is, no more than you. But it sounds like fun. Harold says hydrogen is the best for distance. And hot air for short hops.”
Aurelia nodded. “He’s right. That’s why this race will prove very little. Are you sure you had nothing to do with this?”
Phoebe looked aggrieved. “Aurelia, I told you ... But isn’t it strange. Almost like Providence had arranged it.” She lowered her voice. “Now, if you were to go off course and come down. Well, who’s to say ...?”
Aurelia frowned. “Phoebe, I told you. No more rescues.”
“But you know what happened when the dark stranger rescued Corrinne.” She dimpled. “And it was our rescue from the caves that convinced Harold. He told me so himself. He said he was quite frantic with worry and then he realized he loved me.”
Aurelia sighed. “Yes, Phoebe. I admit it worked for you. But Ranfield has no partiality for me. It was all the daydream of some silly young women.”
“But The Plan ...”
With effort, Aurelia crushed a rising inclination to scream. “The Plan was a mistake, the worst mistake of my entire life.”
Phoebe put a hand to her temple. “How can you say such a horrid thing? Why, it brought Harold and me together.”
Aurelia turned away in exasperation. There was little sense in continuing this conversation, not with Phoebe so set in her thoughts.
“I’m going to meet Mama,” Phoebe called after her. “She’s promised to come the next time someone goes up. But do think about what I’ve said.”
Gazing after her, Aurelia frowned. It would be an easy matter to go off course. Still ...
Chapter Eighteen
They arrived at the meadow in two carriages. Aurelia and Ranfield in the curricle and Phoebe, Cousin Prudence, Uncle Arthur, and Harold in the phaeton. Aurelia was surprised to see Uncle Arthur help Phoebe’s mama down. She was even more surprised to see them smiling at each other. They must have reached some kind of truce.
The change that had been wrought in Mrs. Esterhill seemed the next thing to miraculous. Aurelia had expected Phoebe’s mama to keep her word, but she had never dreamed she would go about it so happily.
Aurelia stole a glance at the Earl. He had been strangely quiet on the ride, and now his expression was unfathomable.
He turned toward her. “Shall we go?” he asked, gesturing after the others.
“Of course.” She grasped her shawl more firmly and prepared to descend from the curricle. But before she could do so, he was there, reaching a hand to help her.
She laid her fingers in his, swallowing the lump that came to her throat. How was she to live without seeing him? He had so inextricably entwined himself with ballooning that it would always make her think of him. But surely she could not be expected to give that up. too.
She focused her attention on Uncle Arthur. She had never seen him looking so delighted. He looked almost gleeful, escorting Cousin Prudence from one balloon to the other, expounding all the while on the science of air flight.
“I cannot quite believe it,” Aurelia murmured.
Ranfield chuckled. “It appears that Cousin Prudence has undergone a change of heart.”
“It certainly does.”
He gave her a most peculiar smile. “I have heard that love makes people do strange things.”
“No doubt. But to think that Cousin Prudence’s love for her daughter should bring about such a radical change in her beliefs. It is the most amazing thing.”
The Earl’s smile grew more peculiar. “Yes, it is strange. But come, our public awaits us.”
Hearing them approach, Cousin Prudence turned and favored them with a smile. “Milord, I fear I have been sadly mistaken.”
“How so?” Ranfield inquired.
“It’s this matter of air flight. I am coming to believe the Lord may well be in favor of it.”
Aurelia stared. Phoebe’s mama looked altogether different. It was true that a bonnet gave her face a different dimension than her habitual cap. But there was something else. Her face had softened somehow. It almost glowed.
“Yes,” Cousin Prudence continued. “Arthur has convinced me that flight is practical and safe.”
“Of course, it is. Prudence, my dear.”
Aurelia almost gasped. Arthur? Prudence? When had the two of them come to the use of Christian names?
“But,” Cousin Prudence continued. “It was really the Lord who led me. I opened the Good Book and there
it was. Right before my eyes.”
“There what was?” the Earl inquired politely.
“Why, the verse of course. It says ‘and you shall mount up with the wings of the eagle.’ These aren’t exactly wings. But the idea’s the same.” She pushed her spectacles up her nose. “Not that I’d ever go up of course.” She hesitated and sent Uncle Arthur a girlish smile. “Leastways, not yet. But I’m convinced the Good Lord has nothing against it.” And she beamed at the man beside her.
Aurelia considered this new development. Could it possibly be that Uncle Arthur and Cousin Prudence had ...? What had Pratt said? That they were up late talking. Well, unlikely as it might seem, it did appear that her uncle and Phoebe’s mama were on new, and rather interesting, terms with each other.
But she had no more time to consider this intriguing information. Uncle Arthur turned to her. “We’re all ready, Aurelia. Now, you’ve got to be careful. You know how hydrogen is on short flights.”
He took her arm and pulled her aside. “I know you want to win this race, but winning ain’t everything. I’m only letting you go up alone because ...” He frowned. “Because this seems so important to the Earl. And it’s a short hop.” He patted her arm. “Don’t put yourself in danger, my dear. We don’t need to win. We know hydrogen is better.”
“Yes, Uncle Arthur. I understand.”
Following him to the balloon, Aurelia tried to bring some order out of the chaos of her thoughts. All morning she’d been reminding herself that another accident was out of the question. Another such debacle would set the Earl’s back up permanently. And yet ... The Plan had worked for Phoebe.
Aurelia pressed a hand to her throbbing temple. If only she knew what to do. If only she could be sure.
“Come,” said Harold, giving her his arm. “Ranny is most ready.” He led her toward the balloon. “Now, don’t you worry none,” he said. “It don’t matter if Ranny wins this race. We know hydrogen is better.”
“Why ...”
Harold patted her hand. “No time for that. The balloons are ready. See, here comes Ranny now.”
“But ...” But Harold was already gone, hurrying to Phoebe’s side and tucking her arm through his.
Approaching Aurelia, Ranfield frowned. She looked a little on the green side. “Are you ill?”
A Heart in Flight Page 14
