A Heart in Flight (2 page)

“This is Miss Amesley, Harold’s cousin.”

Alvanley’s smile turned wolfish. So that was it. She put on her iciest look, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Hmm. Might be interested in air flight m’self. Any more where she came from?”

Ranfield turned to her. “Miss Amesley, will you excuse us for a moment?”

She had a notion to tell him that she knew just what to do with Alvanley’s kind. She was no stranger to the set down, properly delivered. But then, somehow, there popped into her mind a scene from Lady Incognita’s latest book—a scene in which the hero rescued the
heroine from some villain’s calumny.

“Of course.” She lowered her eyes, demurely, as a heroine would. Could that Alvanley possibly think she was going to be Ranfield’s newest ladybird?

She had never considered such an affiliation. She had hardly even considered marriage, since she knew no man she could envision living with and loving as one should. But she could see how easily some women might decide to fall, especially with Ranfield there to catch them.

Though she had turned away, she could not help overhearing the men.

“Don’t appreciate this kind of thing,” the Earl was saying.

Alvanley’s laugh made her hands tighten into fists. That man needed a good facer.

“Don’t suppose Sweet Annette’s gonna ‘preciate it either. Or is it the Little Dove again?”

The Earl’s voice deepened. “My private affairs are just that—private. And I’ll thank you to remember it.”

Alvanley laughed again. “Private? All of London’s speculating. Why, you’ve made the betting book at White’s. I put my money on your staying free. Can’t imagine the likes of you getting leg-shackled. But now this little mouse ...”

“Miss Amesley is a thoroughly respectable young woman.” The Earl’s voice held more than a hint of steel. “If I hear her name bandied about ... anywhere, you will have cause to regret it.”

There was a pause. Aurelia debated stepping even farther away, but something held her in place. She was rather enjoying this, her first experience at playing the heroine. However temporarily she might hold the role, she didn’t want to miss any of it.

“Right, right, old chap.” Alvanley’s voice was plainly conciliatory. “I didn’t see a thing. But Ranfield, this here’s Hyde Park. I ain’t the only man about with eyes.”

“Good day, Alvanley.”

“G’day to you.”

Aurelia kept her eyes focused on the balloon. So, this was how the heroine felt when the hero rode to her rescue. Her heart wanted to beat faster. And she wanted to smile at the hero like some silly green girl.

“Sorry to have left you unescorted for so long,” the Earl said, returning to her side. “Alvanley’s a bore.”

“I would have thought you had much in common.” The remark escaped her unaware, and only the Earl’s raised eyebrow showed her her mistake. Now she’d gone and insulted the man.

“Touche,”
he said, smiling pleasantly.

She flushed. “I didn’t mean ...”

“Yes, you did.” His smile didn’t waver. “You have wit as well as looks. Don’t deny it.”

There wasn’t much she could return to that. It was certainly pleasant to have someone think her intelligent. Uncle Arthur was discouragingly prone to treat her like some half-witted child, especially when she mentioned going up in the balloon.

Again she found herself looking into the Earl’s eyes. Their magnetism pulled at her; deep dark pools, inviting, beckoning. Warmth trembled over her, and she fought to control the sudden shaking of her knees. Oh, these hero-types were patently dangerous.

“There you are.” Harold’s voice broke the spell. Aurelia and the Earl turned together.

“Listen, Reely, the men need me.”

“Harold, you ...”         .

“I know!” Harold grinned. “Ranny can take you to the Minerva.”

For a moment, Aurelia could not find her tongue. She admitted to herself that the prospect of more time in the Earl’s company was pleasing. But the man had been imposed upon enough. He would be wanting to get away.

But to her surprise, the Earl said, “I’d be greatly pleased to escort Miss Amesley to the lending library.” He actually sounded like he meant it. And he offered her his arm.

“Harold, I can’t ...”

But Harold wasn’t listening. “Thanks, Ranny. See you later.”

Aurelia stared after him in utter frustration. Harold was such a nincompoop. How could he just walk off and leave her like that? This man had other things to do.

She swallowed hastily and forced herself to turn back to the Earl. “There’s no need for you to put yourself out,” she said, schooling her voice to calmness. “I shall take a hackney to the Minerva.”

The Earl straightened and his jaw tightened. It was really quite a handsome jaw. “You shall do no such thing,” he said.

“Really, milord.”

“Miss Amesley, I will brook no resistance in this matter. Your cousin left you to my care. I would be remiss to neglect my responsibility.”

She was perfectly able to take care of herself. But it was kind of him. “Really, milord, I am not your responsibility. I am scarcely a green ...”

The Earl took her hand and drew it through his arm. “Miss Amesley, you are wasting your breath. Come, my carriage is waiting outside the gate.”

It
would
be nice to have a carriage ride. They seldom bothered with niceties like that. Uncle Arthur said walking was good for the constitution
and
the pocket. And he was quite correct. After all, air flight was not a pursuit to be financed on pin money.

In spite of herself, she glanced down at her clothes. The Earl was quite a pattern card of perfection. Not ostentatious, of course. But just so nicely turned out.

While her gown ... But her clothes were quite presentable. Just because she didn’t look like the ladies around her ... After all, the Earl of Ranfield was talking to
her,
not to any of those fashionably dressed females.

Ranfield frowned. “I apologize for Alvanley. The man has no tact.” He smiled. “But really, being seen with me is not the worst fate in the world.”

Indeed, it was not. It was turning into a rare treat. So she let him guide her through the crowds and out to a carriage that was, quite as it should be, the highest stare of fashion.

The tiger up behind gave her one slightly bemused look. No doubt he was accustomed to more fashionably turned out ladies. But she gave him a smile anyway.

Then the Earl handed her up with all the consideration any woman could desire. In fact, his fingers lingered around hers for so long that her heart started getting those funny notions again.

Chapter Two

Some time later the carriage stopped before 33 Leadenhall Street. In the niche above the door stood the statue of Minerva. With her spear in one hand and her shield in the other, the helmeted goddess stood guard over the Press and Lending Library which bore her name.

The Earl smiled as he handed her down, that smile that said so much. And made Aurelia
feel
even more. How strange that he should have such an effect on her. But then, it had been a long winter and she had consumed many, many romances. Probably some of that had colored her perception of him.

“Thank you for the ride.” She endeavored to speak calmly, but it was difficult. Who would have thought that just being near a man could be so exciting? “I shall be here some time, and then I have other errands to attend to. So you needn’t wait.” That was only fair. They had imposed on the man enough.

Ranfield nodded. “I shall just escort you inside.”

She wanted him to do that, but she didn’t want him to know she wanted it. “I ...”

“There are several books I wish to borrow for myself.”

So Aurelia took the arm he offered her. A pleasantly warm sensation stole over her at the feel of it under her fingertips. Was this the sensation Lady Incognita’s heroines described?

She much wanted to leave her hand there, to feel so pleasant for a little longer. But she did have some sense of propriety. Papa had not wasted all the money he spent on Miss Rutherford.

So, immediately after they were inside the door, she removed her hand, saying formally, “Good day, milord. And thank you again.”

“Good day, Miss Amesley.”

For a brief moment she experienced disappointment that he had not continued their conversation. The feeling was almost as bad as when they had called off that ascension last year.

Perhaps it was even worse. Her insides were all aboil. And, unaccountably, she wanted to sniffle.

She turned away, and, conscious of his eyes following her, moved off into the shelves of books.

It took some moments, once she was out of his sight, to compose herself. She did not, after all, have many days like this one! Imagine meeting a flesh and blood hero. The more she thought about it, the more she felt certain of his “hero-hood.”

Well, it was a pleasant memory, something to think on during the cold winter nights when the men had gone to their beds and she couldn’t sleep.

She took several deep calming breaths, and, smoothing her skirts, made her way to the shelf that held Lady Incognita’s romances. Of course, she had long ago admitted to herself that her passion for such literary fare might be considered unwise.

In spite of Papa’s predilection for flight, he had insisted that she receive a good education. And one of the things that Miss Rutherford had determined that her charge commit to memory was the revered Dr. Samuel Johnson’s comments on the novel.

Aurelia recited them to herself: “These books are written chiefly to the young, the ignorant, and the idle, to whom they serve as lectures of conduct, and introduction to life.” Well, that seemed true enough. Unlike a romance, a novel was supposed to be real.

“Vice,” the good doctor continued “(for vice is necessary to be shown) should always disgust.” That was true, too. “It is therefore to be steadily inculcated that virtue is the highest proof of understanding, and the only solid basis of greatness, and that vice is the natural consequence of narrow thoughts, that it begins in mistake, and ends in ignominy.”

As long as Miss Rutherford had remained in residence, no romances, and only the best novels (and consequently the very dullest), had come within Aurelia’s ken. Human nature being what it is, her desire for the forbidden had only quickened. So as soon as she found herself without supervision, Aurelia had immersed herself in novels of the wrong sort and in numerous romances of terror.

She was well aware that the problems dramatized in romances seldom presented themselves in normal everyday occurrence. And a life spent in haunted castles and abbeys, amongst ghosts and villains, could hardly be considered felicitous.

Still, she did enjoy romances. She liked that world of villains so evil they made one’s blood ran cold, of heroines helpless and beautiful, of heroes handsome, strong, and victorious, it was a world much more interesting than her own, especially in the winter when their experiments in air flight were made impossible by inclement weather.

She made her way to the familiar shelf that held Lady Incognita’s works. Of all the writers of romances of terror, she preferred those of the unknown and mysterious Lady Incognita. Her eyes slid over the titles till they came to rest for a moment on
Love in the Ruins,
which she had returned on her last visit. The triumph of Reginald and Bernice over the villainous monk Columbo had thrilled her to the core. And, even though she knew the outcome of
The Dark Stranger,
she looked forward to reading it again.

A slight noise made her start and look up. A short distance away, leaning against the wall, stood the Earl of Ranfield. He smiled lazily and gave her a slight bow.

Aurelia turned away. Why was the man still in the library? And more important, why was he watching her? It was common knowledge that rakes would stop at nothing to get what they wanted. But what could he want? Perhaps she was going to find out.

So, said Ranfield to himself, she had seen him. He detached himself from the wall and advanced toward her. “Miss Amesley, we meet again.”

She met this comment with silence, but, since she did not give him the cut direct, he continued. “I
see that you are looking at Lady Incognita’s romances. I confess to reading one now and then.”

“You read romances!”

How did she widen those great dark eyes like that? And, more to the point, could she possibly be unaware of their effect upon a man?

“I do,” he declared. “Why not?”

“I thought ... that is, a gentleman ...” She floundered to a halt.

“A gentleman may enjoy a little escape.” What could he say to keep her talking? “Also, the heroes of such pieces may give one an idea of what appeals to the ladies.”

She raised an eyebrow, a sweet golden eyebrow.

“I hardly think anyone is going to be called upon to rescue fair maidens from dire villains these days.”

“Touche,”
he replied. She was a quick-witted little thing. “How pleasant it is to see you smile. I feared you were one of those dreadful bluestockings who are always predicting calamity.”

Her smile vanished. ““Here is nothing wrong with a woman using the brains God has given her.”

“Of course not, provided He did give her some.” He saw instantly that he was in the suds and hastened to add, “I am only joking, of course. I have nothing against learned ladies.”

How could such a little thing look so icy? “I humbly beg your pardon. I meant no disrespect to the ladies. Truly I didn’t.”

Against her better judgment, Aurelia looked up and found his eyes upon her. Strange, how a man’s eyes could impart so much warmth.

“Am I to be forgiven?”

She shrugged. “I do not see what difference my forgiveness makes.”

“I want it.” The words were low and accompanied by another lazy smite that said much more than words could ever convey. It said so much that she found herself actually yearning toward him.

Miss Rutherford’s vivid warnings came immediately to mind. So this was the way the rakes operated. No wonder it was so effective. But this one had overestimated his charm. She might have a palpitating heart, but her brains were still in prime condition.