Page 75 of Fortune Favors the Frivolous
“I find that hard to believe.” Caroline summoned all the energy at her disposal to respond to the scurrilous and patently untrue gossip her mother had picked up. “Henry has been maligned. Amelia discovered the truth herself. Alas, she does not go about much these days, so cannot counter the gossip. And Sir Frederick has been away. But it’s Lord Windermere who is the monster.” She gazed across the lawn, where clusters of elegantly dressed guests gathered beneath white canopies, the men’s dark coats stark against the colorful gowns of the ladies.
“Watch what you say, Caroline.” Lady Weston sent a scandalized glance about her as if afraid her daughter may have been overheard speaking so ill of a man whose reputation was, believe it or not, pristine.
And it looked like it would stay that way.
While Henry, poor Henry, was likely to have to live with the stain upon his character unless Amelia could disseminate the truth or Charlotte could be prevailed upon to speak the truth. She’d seemed so motivated to do so earlier…
Until Barnaby had arrived.
It seemed the forces of evil really were stronger than truth and justice.
A string quartet played a soft melody in the distance, the music floating across the party like a delicate veil.
Finally, Caroline was roused from her reverie by Lord Windermere arising together with Mrs. Pike and Barnaby. Venetia, of course, was in their fold, and together they wandered down the hill towards the balloon. The enormous silk creation strained against its ropes, its vibrant blue and gold panels billowing gently against the darkening sky. The wicker basket swayed invitingly, adorned with ribbons and flowers for the special occasion.
“Mama, they have not announced who is going up. Lady Townsend said the winners would be announced after supper. Have you heard anything?” Everything was happening too soon and suddenly Caroline was more afraid than she had ever been.
“I am sure it will not be you, Caroline, unless you and I are the lucky pair, for you need a chaperone. But I don’t want to go up in that dreadful contraption, exciting though it is to many others.” Her mother’s tone was peevish before finally displaying a modicum of sympathy. “I know you are agitated about your friend, but really, there is nothing you can do. I am not the only one who thinks Venetia has done better than could be expected to win the high regard of Lord Windermere.”
Caroline ignored her as she took in the scene. The first stars were appearing in the lavender-tinged sky, and servants moved among the guests, lighting paper lanterns that glowed like fireflies in the gathering dusk.
And then whatever equilibrium she’d managed to conserve was shattered.
“No, no, no,” she said under her breath as she moved towards the balloon.
“Caroline! What do you think you are doing?” her mother snapped, hurrying after her daughter, who was heading towards the balloon. “Come back this moment and stop interfering. You always did want to poke your nose into business that wasn’t yours. And no, I do not want you speaking to Henry.”
For Caroline had spied Henry across the expansive lawn, and as their gazes locked, she saw he shared her concern. His chestnut hair was slightly disheveled, as though he had been running his hands through it in frustration, and his green eyes blazed with determination even across the distance.
Windermere and Mrs. Pike were most definitely leading Venetia with purpose towards the basket where the aeronaut was waiting expectantly, his hands upon the thick rope that tethered the balloon to the ground, ready to unleash it at a command. Windermere’s silver embroidered waistcoat glinted in the torchlight, while Mrs. Pike’s distinctive feathered bonnet bobbed nearby.
Where was Lady Townsend? Surely she did not condone this? Lady Townsend had all but sponsored Venetia with Henry, so Caroline had heard. It had given her comfort that what appeared to be happening in front of her eyes—another kidnapping—would not come to pass.
But when she looked around, she saw Lady Townsend far in the distance and could not make out whether that lady had observed what was happening. The hostess’s ruby red gown was visible among a crowd of admirers, but she seemed thoroughly distracted by her duties.
The aeronaut, his weathered face beaming with excitement, was gesturing animatedly to Windermere. “Just step incarefully, m’lord—that’s the way—and offer the lady your hand. Mind the edge there, it’s a bit unsteady.” His voice carried on the evening breeze as he continued, “Never you worry about a thing. The winds are favorable tonight, and you’ll have the most magnificent view of the comet. Might even see all the way to Scotland, if the night stays clear. Some say it’s good luck to kiss your ladylove when you’re closer to heaven than earth.”
Caroline heard all this as she hurried closer, Henry closing the distance from the other side, but they were going to be too late. And, besides, what could a young girl do in the face of such adversaries? The sweet smell of the balloon’s burning coal made her feel ill.
“Henry, stop them!” she called out, but of course he could do nothing, though he tried.
Lunging forward, his face flushed with exertion and indignation, he cried, “Windermere! You cannot do this!” But Barnaby stepped smoothly into his path.
Mrs. Pike—with help—had already all but lifted Venetia into the basket, the girl’s face a mask of resignation as Windermere prepared to join her. The aeronaut, sensing tension but bound by his payment—for Caroline had observed another purse changing hands—continued his preparations, glancing uncertainly between the parties.
And then Caroline heard another sound—
Or, rather, was aware of something else momentous happening.
For suddenly, attention transferred from what was happening at the balloon to what was happening at the crest of the hill.
The crowd fell silent. Even the music seemed to pause, and all faces turned toward the unexpected arrival.
“Oh my goodness,” Caroline murmured as she clutched her hands to her breast. “I don’t believe it.” The cool evening air suddenly felt charged, raising gooseflesh on her bare arms.
For there was a man on horseback galloping towards them.
The most unlikely man she would have thought to have thrown Lady Townsend’s Comet Viewing Gala into such disarray. His black stallion’s hooves thundered on the ground, sending clods of earth flying as they charged down the hill.
