“Ah.” She tumbled his name about her tongue a few times, rather liking the feel of it. “Then please call me Anne. And it’s important for you to know there’s an ‘e’ at the end of my name, because it makes the word ever so much more elegant.”
“I’m honored. By both the permission and the explanation.” He wiped at the sweat on his upper lip with the back of his glove. “A beautiful, stately name, actually.”
“I’ve always thought so.” It was absurd how much pleasure she took from his approval. “Oh look, there’s the manor house.” She pointed to the landmark as the balloon’s basket gently swayed on the air currents.
He stumbled. “How long did it take for you to feel natural while the floor moves?”
“A few times. It’s much like going to sea, but eventually, you won’t notice it.”
“I trust you’re right.” Though his grip on her fingers was enough to cause slight pain, Anne said nothing, for she well remembered her first flight with her brother. It would take some time to acclimate, especially for a man who didn’t have much daring. For a long moment, he remained silent, then he laughed as the basket rotated. “There’s the pond where I learned to swim.” He pointed with his free hand, and she grinned, for he wasn’t gripping the rope any longer. “Oh, and see there?” he said as the basket rotated once again. “It’s Hemsley leaving for his weekly trip to the village.” As Anne watched, the viscount waved. “Hemsley!” He waved his arm again, causing the basket to sway, but the older man didn’t hear.
And he was so darling in his enthusiasm. “I knew if you’d let yourself forget your fear, you might enjoy yourself,” she said in a soft voice so not to startle him.
“I’ll concede the point to you.” Benedict glanced at her and smiled. The rising sun reflected off his spectacle lenses. “It is beautiful up here. Now I know what birds must feel like.”
“I keep several species of birds in cages in London.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “It reminds me of how I feel when I’m not in the air. It’s much like being caged with clipped wings.” For long moments she watched some cows and sheep move through a nearby field. “My brother and I practiced and practiced before we took our first flight. I make less mistakes now.”
Why the deuce had she made that confession?
“Where is your brother now?” By increments, he relaxed his death-grip on her hand, but he didn’t release it.
She was grateful, for that touch was comforting in the moment. “He’s dead.” Unexpected emotion welled in her chest. Tears stung her eyes. “I’d pestered him to take up our balloon one day, and his fervor matched mine, so it was no hardship. But a summer storm had blown up unexpectedly while we were underway. We lost control of the balloon, for there is no rudder or way to steer the craft at the moment. We crashed into a tree line and fell through. Dumped out of the basket. I came away with a broken arm and multiple cuts and bruises. Aaron was run through by a stout tree branch and died instantly.” Tears fell unchecked to her cheeks. She berated herself for revealing so much when she barely knew the man beside her.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Anne.” He squeezed her fingers, and that slight pressure meant more than anything else had in the corresponding three years.
“How can I ever forgive myself, Benedict? My father forever reminds me that I killed Aaron, his heir, and that he’ll never forgive me for it. Life hasn’t been the same between us since that incident, but what I feel is more acute because if I hadn’t demanded we got out that day…”
“Hush now.” He gave her his handkerchief. “You can’t blame yourself for the weather.”
“In my head I know you’re right, but my heart refuses to believe it.” She dabbed at the moisture on her cheeks, and as she did so, his scent that clung to the linen teased her nose. He smelled cleaned, like the wind on the driven snow in the dead of winter, crisp, pleasant, intoxicating. A shuddering sigh escaped her. “I apologize for becoming a watering pot.”
“It’s no bother.” He slid his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. “I’ll wager you don’t have the opportunity often.”
“No. My parents don’t want the reminder he’s gone.” Feeling emboldened by his understanding, Anne delved a hand beneath her shirt and drew forth the small brass compass on its black cord. “This compass belonged to Aaron. He always had it close. Told me as long as I could find north, I could always go home.” She swallowed to put moisture into her dry throat. “Now, I wear it most every day as a reminder of that, and of him. I never want to forget what I did, and now, I want to succeed for him, so that his death wasn’t in vain.”
Whatever must this man think of her and the mess her life had become?
“Then by all means, you must carry on with his dream and yours.” Some of the fear had faded from his expression. He squeezed her hand. “I promised to help, and I stand by that, Anne. Never think I won’t.” There was nothing but honesty in his tones.
Her chest tightened. “Thank you. I know I’m not wrong in this.”
“No, I suspect you aren’t.” After taking a deep breath, Benedict let it ease out as he looked about the area. “This is such a marvel. To think men can fly, well, at least while tethered! It’s amazing. Thank you for showing me.”
“You are most welcome.”
“This man, this baron’s son, Mr. Davies?”
“Yes?” Knots pulled in her belly.
“I despise him too.”
“How so?”
“He was a major in my calvary outfit, the man I directly reported to, and he made my life miserable. Told me I’d never amount to much, that I wasn’t brave enough for the military, that I should run home and hide behind my mother’s skirts because I couldn’t do anything right and I was more dangerous to my side than Boney’s forces.” So much despair and shame lingered in those words, it almost became a living entity between them.