“Certainly I will help. It may be time to hire Bow Street to investigate and perhaps provide the prince personal protection.”

The Bow Street Runners, Eleanor knew, were a private police force. “I think hiring them would be wise. Will you contact them, or shall I?”

“I will deal with it. Meanwhile you are to keep away from Lazzara.”

His pronouncement gave her pause. “Keep away?”

“Yes, sweeting. I don't want you anywhere near him.”

When Eleanor started to protest, Damon held up a hand, saying almost grimly, “Don't argue with me about this, Elle. I am not about to let you be hurt.”

It made sense that Damon would want to protect her after losing his brother the way he had, yet his concern gave her a warm feeling. Even so, she was not pleased to have him dictating to her.

“I cannot keep away entirely. I am supposed to attend a balloon ascension with the prince tomorrow. One of his countrymen is an aeronaut and has promised to let us ride in his gas balloon. Even leaving aside the fact that I was greatly looking forward to the adventure, it would be rude to cancel at this late moment, since the prince went to so much trouble to arrange the treat for me.”

Damon relented, although with evident reluctance. “Very well, you may go, but I intend to be there to keep an eye on you.”

“You were not invited, Damon,” Eleanor pointed out in exasperation.

“That hardly matters. You are not attending without me.”

Instead of replying, she merely smiled pleasantly. “Thank you for coming so quickly, Lord Wrex-ham, but now I believe you have business with Bow Street?” Moving to the salon door, she opened it and stepped aside, as if encouraging his departure.

Damon crossed his arms over his chest, however, and remained exactly where he stood.

“The ascension may be canceled in any case,” Eleanor said finally. “After what happened today, the prince may not feel well enough to ride in a balloon.”

Damon's jaw hardened. “That is not good enough, Elle. I want your promise that you will keep away from Lazzara unless I am present.”

She pressed her lips together, remaining stubbornly silent. She had already decided to end the prince's courtship. In fact, the outing tomorrow would be the last invitation she accepted from him. But Damon was a trifle too highhanded for her to bare her soul to him about her plans for her romance.

Still, she knew he wouldn't leave until she conceded. “Oh, very well, I promise.”

His grim expression relaxed a degree. “And you must swear that you will stop being such a damned heroine. Rescuing Lazzara could have been the death of you.”

“You would have done the same in my place.”

“That is different.”

Eleanor rolled her eyes. “Pray don't tell me it is because you are a man.”

“It is, in part. I am physically stronger than you. You would have been no match for Lazzara had he tried to drag you under the water.”

His explanation mollified her a little. “I was not in much danger. Marcus taught me to swim when I was a girl, and I do it quite well.”

Damon's mouth curved wryly. “I cannot say I am surprised. You ride and shoot and fence with the best of them. And last evening you added thievery to your list of masculine accomplishments.”

Eleanor couldn't help but laugh. “But you agreed that you deserved my retribution.”

“I did.” He crossed the salon and stood gazing down at her. “Don't mistake me, Eleanor. What you did was remarkable-and incredibly admirable. Perhaps one woman in a million would have had the presence of mind, not to mention the courage, to act as you did. You risked your life to save his. But I don't want any harm to come to you.”

His dark gaze intent, Damon raised a finger to touch her cheek. It was a gentle caress, yet strangely tentative, almost as if he wanted to reassure himself that she was still there, alive and well.

Then his voice lowered to a rough whisper that was nearly inaudible. “I couldn't endure it if you came to harm.”

Without another word, Damon turned and left the salon, leaving Eleanor bereft of words herself.

It was a long, long while before she could summon her vaunted presence of mind in order to follow.

Refrain from nagging or complaining or scolding. Instead, give him reasons to cherish your company. -An Anonymous Lady, Advice…

To Eleanor's gratification, the balloon ascension was not canceled. Yet even knowing of Damon's concern for her, she was surprised when he arrived in the Lazzara barouche the next morning to collect her and her aunt at Portman Place. As they were being assisted into the carriage, Eleanor sent Damon a quizzical glance, but he only returned an enigmatic smile.

Prince Lazzara did not look any worse for wear after his traumatic experience the previous afternoon, she noted with relief. Indeed, he appeared to have recovered fully, although he seemed a trifle embarrassed when he greeted her. He also seemed less effusive than normal as the barouche got underway, although Signor Vecchi was as charming and diplomatic as always when he again expressed gratitude for Eleanor's valiant action in rescuing his cousin yesterday.

The prince, however, recouped his spirits enough to display uncommon zeal as he explained to the ladies something of the history of ballooning.

“Various Frenchmen began experimenting with flying hot air balloons more than three decades ago,” Lazzara asserted, “and soon succeeded in crossing the English Channel. But after several fatal flights where the paper-lined silk fabric of the balloons caught fire, aeronauts began using hydrogen gas developed by English scientist Henry Cavendish, since gas-filled balloons are safer and can travel further.”

“The balloon today will be filled with gas?” Lady Beldon asked rather worriedly.

“But of course,” the prince replied. “My countryman, Signor Pucinelli, is an eminent member of Italy's scientific establishment and an avid aeronaut. He has endeavored to bring the delights of his passion to the public, and is currently visiting England at the invitation of your Prince Regent.”

Today's ascension, Lazzara added, would take place in an open meadow north of London, early in the day when the winds would likely be the weakest. Fortunately the weather boded to be fair. Bright sunshine warmed the cool morning air, while a scattering of puffy white clouds filled the blue sky above.

Eleanor felt an eager sense of anticipation as they drew closer. Even Beatrix, who had risen long before her usual hour for the occasion, seemed enthusiastic, since the outing afforded her more time in Signor Vecchi's company.

After a while, however, Eleanor couldn't help noticing that there were two rough-looking men trailing them on horseback. And when the barouche eventually turned off the main road onto a country lane, the riders followed.

“They are Bow Street Runners,” Damon murmured to her in a low voice. “I hired them to protect the prince.”

“Does he know?” Eleanor asked.

“Yes, I had a long discussion with him last evening.”

She wanted to question Damon about his conversation with the prince, but there was no chance, since just then they reached their intended destination.

As the carriage turned into a large meadow and came to a halt, she could see the balloon in the near distance. The giant, gray-and-red-striped globe, which rose almost seventy feet into the air, bobbed gently in the morning sunlight.

The balloon was covered by a net of rope webbing and attached to a wickerwork basket below, which in turn was tethered to the ground by sturdy ropes. The basket was large, perhaps ten feet wide by fifteen feet long, and shaped somewhat like Eleanor's copper bathing tub at home.

A crowd had already gathered for the spectacle, and as Prince Lazzara led his party a short way across the meadow, Eleanor heard a dark-haired gentleman shouting orders in Italian to a crew of workmen who were hard at work amid a plethora of casks and bottles and metal tubes.

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