Chapter Fifteen #2
Curious. He had never given George’s feelings for Miss Wallington much thought, especially since he seemed so set on Tilly.
But the look that passed across George’s face as the balloon rose and he glanced at Miss Wallington—well, it had something of intensity to it. It was almost a look of yearning.
As if sharing in his thoughts, Sally whispered beside him, “Is he still resolved to have Miss Tilly?”
“As far as I know,” Malcolm murmured.
The balloon went up. A pilot did not attend George and Gertrude because the balloon was tethered to the ground by the three men holding it.
George had merely been instructed in how to let out the air of the vent up top.
After five minutes, he did exactly that, and the balloon floated to the ground for a graceful landing. The crowd clapped.
They continued to watch as different couples filtered in and out of the basket.
There was no reason, of course, Sally observed wryly, for a man and a woman to have to go up together, but nevertheless that was the pattern that prevailed.
One of the older women exclaimed that it made a lady less nervous to have a man operating the machinery.
This comment earned an eye roll from Sally, who operated machinery on her farm every day.
He was standing far from Scarlett in the little crowd.
Every few minutes, when he couldn’t help it, he glanced over at her.
She was standing with her stepmother and seemed to observe the balloon with something like wonder.
Still, she hung back and did not approach his mother and Beatrice or ask to be taken up.
He wondered if she felt it would be rude, since she wasn’t one of the younger girls, and that made him feel angry on her behalf.
He couldn’t help it. He wanted Scarlett Perkins to get what she wanted.
George was, obviously, in high demand as an escort.
Even the ladies who had previously declared themselves too frightened to go up in the balloon made an exception when they realized that they could demand that George take them.
After Gertrude, George went up with Tilly, Miss Jones, and Lady Daisy.
After that, different couples took their spot.
When Miss Marburry expressed an interest in going up, Malcolm expected George to step forward, but Mrs. Salisbury surprised everyone by proclaiming that she would worry for her son’s health if he went up again so soon.
“Malcolm,” she called to him through the crowd. “Won’t you escort Miss Marburry?”
Malcolm froze.
He did not want to go up in the balloon.
Not in the slightest.
But he had no choice now, he realized with horror.
“Of course,” he said, nodding, unsure why Mrs. Salisbury was giving this duty to him of all the men present. Severn had already escorted several ladies himself, and Philip had—to his chagrin, Malcolm could see—gone up with none other than Miss Maven Larchman.
Miss Marburry hardly looked less frightened than he, and he had to pity her. Presumably, her entire objective had been to secure a private moment with George, and now she had lost that inducement.
Dear God, he thought, the chit was shaking.
“Are you certain, Miss Marburry?” he asked, looking down into her light-blue eyes.
She gave him a timid smile. “Oh yes, Mr. Brown.”
He sighed. He had been hoping the girl would balk, and he wouldn’t have to go up himself. So much for that.
One of the balloon handlers explained to him how to let out the vent, warning him not to do so too fast, or the balloon could make a hasty landing.
Given that he worked every day with his hands and farm machinery, and had for years, he at least didn’t have to worry about the balloon as a technical challenge.
He handed Miss Marburry into the basket and then stepped in after her. One of the balloon men snapped the vent closed, and Malcolm’s stomach lurched as the infernal thing rose in the air.
“If you are fearful of heights, Miss Marburry,” Malcolm said, keeping his own gaze straight ahead. “Don’t look down.”
He had learned such a thing from his time atop the Parkhorne Hall roof with Philip all those years ago.
“Oh, I am not afraid of heights,” she said faintly, a comment he didn’t understand at all, as the girl appeared to still be trembling beside him. “I hope, though,” she continued, as they reached their full altitude, bobbing as the rope tethers arrested their ascent, “that you don’t mind them.”
“I will admit they are not my favorite,” he said through gritted teeth.
He risked a look downward and instantly regretted it. The people below, all of whom had been so near only moments before, looked like toy soldiers on the grass.
“Oh, I am sorry,” she exclaimed, her hands jumping to her mouth, the harsh motion making the basket sway horribly. “I would have never said yes if I had known.”
“It is no trouble,” he gritted out.
The truth was that he had no idea why Mrs. Salisbury had insisted upon him accompanying this girl. He could only think it was an ill-considered attempt to integrate him more with the others.
After a few minutes of excruciating, airborne silence, Malcolm asked Miss Marburry if she was ready to descend, and she agreed with such rapidity that the nodding of her head sent the basket swaying again.
He let out the vent, taking care to do so gently, and they slowly descended back to earth.
When his feet hit solid ground, he wanted to kiss it.
He helped Miss Marburry down and bid her adieu, resolving to find Sally and melt into the crowd. Hopefully, Mrs. Salisbury could content herself with Severn or Philip or George or Mr. Jones as escorts for the rest of this damned misadventure.
But then he saw that Scarlett was standing by Mrs. Salisbury.
“Severn,” Mrs. Salisbury said. “Would you accompany Miss Perkins—”
“I’ll do it,” Malcolm said, without even thinking about it. “It is no trouble.”