balloon’s canopy and wondered what it would be like to feel the ground drop away and watch the countryside receding below you.
A sudden gust of wind caught the canopy and whipped under the basket. There was a shout and then the crowd was scattering, drawing back. For a moment Jane wondered what was happening and then she felt the edge of the basket tip up, throwing her to the floor. The basket started to drag across the field, lifting from the ground one moment, bumping over the tussocks the next as the wind filled the canopy.
‘Oh!’ Jane tried to scramble to her feet, but their progress was too rough to allow her to regain her balance. She felt as helpless as a rag doll, tumbled in a heap of petticoats on the floor, tossed from side to side.
‘Hold on!’ Alex had managed to grasp one of the leather straps in one hand and bent down to pull Jane closer. The basket lifted from the ground and with a whimper Jane clutched at his jacket, turning her face into his chest. Gone were her ambitions of being a fearless aviator. Suddenly solid ground seemed much more appealing.
The basket hit the ground for a final time, shaking Alex’s grip from the strap so that he fell with Jane in a heap on the floor. There was silence. Silence and stillness. Jane opened her eyes. Above her the huge canopy was snagged on the branches of a tall oak and as she watched, it gradually crumpled down on top of them, blotting out the blue of the sky.
She felt as though she was covered in bruises, every bone in her body shaken from its socket. Her hat had come off and she had evidently sat on it at some point for it was completely flattened. Her hair was tumbled about her face and she suddenly became aware that her skirts were up about her knees, revealing far too much of her legs to Alex’s appreciative gaze. She tried to sit up, only to find that the angle of the basket prevented it.
Jane pushed the hair out of her eyes and tried to straighten her clothing. Her dress had slipped from one shoulder, showing the upper curve of her breasts, and she was sure that she looked like the veriest Cyprian with her hair about her shoulders, her skirts riding up and her dress descending to meet it.
She turned her head to see Alex watching her with a lazy grin that made her heart skip a beat.
He was looking no less dishevelled than she, his black hair hopelessly tousled, his jacket creased and his neckcloth awry.
‘You look very nice,’ Alex said slowly.
The silk canopy descended with a sudden whoosh, throwing them into a twilight world. In the distance Jane could hear shouts and voices calling, but she paid no attention.
Alex put out one hand and tumbled her back into his arms. Before she could say a word his mouth came down on hers.
It was suddenly like another world, a fantasy world. The shock, the fear and the sudden relief combined in a heady brew. Instead of pushing him away, Jane found herself pulling Alex closer so that their tangled limbs were inextricably entwined. Her lips parted in invitation and she felt the same dizzy, melting sensation invade her limbs as though her whole body was just waiting for his touch.
The kiss deepened with a searing intensity but Jane was no longer afraid. She shivered as the dress slipped further from her shoulders and Alex’s fingers skimmed her bare skin. Desire coursed through her. His mouth left hers to trace the line of her neck and the curve of her breast with agonising, irresistible slowness, pausing only as it reached the place where the last wisps of material still covered her. The excitement lit her blood with wildfire. Alex’s mouth was rough and urgent as it returned to hers and Jane revelled in its sensuous demand. She had lost all concept of time or reality, only knowing the greatest relief and joy at being safe and in the arms of the man she loved.
Neither of them heard the voices or footsteps approaching and only came to their senses as the silk curtain lifted to reveal the anxious faces of the balloonists and half the crowd. Alex had sufficient time and presence of mind to straighten Jane’s dress, but they were still in each other’s arms when it seemed that they were surrounded by people exclaiming and crying and reaching in to the basket to help them out.
Alex picked Jane up and handed her out of the basket to the first of the waiting men. Her legs crumpled as she was put gently on the ground and when Alex jumped down and scooped her into his arms again, she made no demur. The fresh breeze cooled her hot cheeks and the bright light made her blink. Suddenly she could feel every ache and bruise, and she did not want to face the barrage of questions and the curious eyes of the crowd. She felt the tears come into her eyes and turned her face against Alex’s shoulder. She was not sure whether it was reaction to the accident or the sudden realisation of what she had done that made her want to cry.
Alex strode across the field, making short shrift of the questions of the crowd. It was only when they reached Lady Verey and the others, almost prostrate with anxiety, that Alex allowed his pace to slow.
‘Miss Verey is bruised and shocked but otherwise unhurt,’ he said, giving a tearful Lady Verey his most reassuring smile. ‘We must return home at once, for she needs to rest.’
‘What a terrible thing to happen!’ Lady Eleanor, normally so resilient, had aged visibly. ‘When we saw that the men had had the ropes snatched from their hands, we thought you would take off straight into the sky!’
‘Not without the burners going, ma’am,’ Lord Philip said practically, ‘but it must have been very unpleasant nevertheless. Alex, put her down here.’ He gestured towards the seat of his carriage. ‘Can you drive, or would you prefer someone to take your phaeton back for you? I notice your shoulder is giving you a little trouble.’
Alex hesitated. ‘Thank you, Philip. I must confess that it pains me a little. If you could take my team, perhaps Blakeney would drive your curricle back?’
‘I’m flattered you trust me with your cattle,’ Philip said a little drily. ‘I’ve been waiting for a chance to try my hand with them, although not, perhaps, under these circumstances! Lady Eleanor, perhaps you and Sophia could travel with me? Lady Verey, I am persuaded that you would wish to remain with your daughter? As would Alex, I make no doubt…’
Lady Verey was already in the carriage, chafing Jane’s cold hands and peering into her daughter’s face.
‘No harm done,’ Philip said bracingly, proving himself a staunch support in times of need. ‘We’ll have you all back in Portman Square in no time!’
Sophia bent to kiss her friend, her blue gaze troubled.
‘Oh Jane,’ she whispered, ‘everyone is talking! They all saw the two of you in the balloon basket and…’ she blushed ‘…they say that he was making love to you! Oh, Jane, you’ll have to marry him now!’
Chapter Thirteen
‘You’ll have to marry him now.’
Jane slept deeply that night; when she awoke, Sophia’s words were still ringing in her head. She slipped from her bed and moved across to the window, leaning on the sill. It was still early. The street was deserted and beyond the rooftops the sky was a pale, misty blue and very beautiful.
Jane sighed. She knew that what Sophia had said was true. To be found kissing and hugging in the basket of a hot-air balloon was an extraordinary circumstance that the
She opened the window and took a deep breath of the cool air. She ached a little from the balloon accident, but not as much as she had expected. Evidently she had been very lucky.
The house was silent. Jane could imagine what would happen once Lady Verey was awake. Her mother would erupt into her bedroom, insisting on a public announcement of the engagement forthwith, planning the wedding, talking and talking about bride clothes…
Jane dressed quickly and quietly. She had a few difficulties with the buttons of her dress but managed by twisting around as far as she could. It was hopeless to try to arrange her hair on her own, so she tied it back with a ribbon and bundled it under a chip bonnet. Folding her cloak over her arm, she went softly from the room and down the wide stairs.
A housemaid was scrubbing the doorstep and looked up, startled and taken aback, to see the young mistress out and about so early.
‘Oh, miss-’ she began, but Jane put a finger to her lips.
‘Hush, Hetty! I shall not be gone long! Pray do not tell Mama…’
‘But, Miss Jane-’ the maid protested, only to find she was speaking to thin air. Jane’s hurrying figure could just
