Eva’s throat closed. “Your uncle is a very special man.”
“That he is.” Bram grinned, the effect warm as the golden glow spilling from the freshly lit lamps and torches.
“It is getting dark,” she murmured, dread creeping over her shoulders.
“Eva, listen.” Bram guided her from the stall, away from the crush of shoppers. “I want you to have a choice in this matter, but there will be nothing I can do to stop the gossip that will surely spread if you do not honour your position as queen. Believe me when I say there is nothing to fear. I will be with you the whole time.”
She fiddled with the bonnet in her hand, feeling the weight of the tiara on her head. It was sweet of him to protect herlike this, just as he safeguarded her from having to kiss him in front of all of Royston. If she was brave enough to set foot in that basket, surely he’d let no harm come to her in a tethered balloon. It was, after all, her social obligation.
Once again her gaze drifted to the orange glow of the big teardrop in the darkening sky. “It is not going to go so very high, is it?”
He turned his face toward the floating menace. “It will rise maybe twenty-five feet. Thirty at most. I will shoot a flaming arrow, and then we will descend right back to the ground.” His eyes once again met hers. “But like I said, you do not have to do this. You have nothing to prove to me. You’ve already shown yourself to be a strong and capable woman.”
And just like that, much of her fear melted from the sheer light of admiration burning in his gaze. He was right. Despite expectations, this was her choice. Yet if she never took the chance to change like Bram had, she’d never get over this fear of heights—and all because of Richard Trestwell trapping her up in an apple tree. Well, no more. She would not be controlled by the past. Bram had beaten the man at archery. Wasn’t it about time she bested him as well?
Swallowing a lump in her throat, she lifted her chin. “I think I can manage a quick up-and-down ride that is controlled, as long as you are with me the whole time.”
“I will be there every second.” His brows gathered into a line. “Are you sure about this?”
“No,” she admitted, “but let’s do it anyway.”
This time she grabbed his hand and led him on a merry chase along the lanes. Better to do this now while she still had the courage. Yet the closer she drew to that hellishly lit canvas, the more her bravery waned, especially when she pulled up breathless in front of the balloon master.
And Richard Trestwell.
Bram stepped in front of her. “What are you doing here, Trestwell?”
“As last year’s king, it’s my duty to hand you the bow and arrow to start the fire.” Reaching behind him, he picked up a modified bow—shorter than the one they’d used earlier—and an arrow with a ball of wicking near the tip.
Bram immediately inspected both, and while he did so, Mr. Trestwell sidestepped him to face Eva. “I hope you have a memorable ride, Miss Inman. I daresay it would have been were I to accompany you.”
The balloon master clapped his hands. “All my rides are memorable! Now, my dear, if you please. This way.” He held the basket gate open, the glowing fire from the balloon painting his hair a devilish red.
“I—em.” She pressed her lips flat. How could she ever do this? “I would prefer if Mr. Webb went in first, thank you.”
“As you wish. Mr. Webb?”
Bram shouldered past Mr. Trestwell, and once inside the waist-high basket, he held out his hand for her. Encouragement sparked in his gaze, and his arm didn’t waver in the least as she tentatively reached for his fingers. He guided her inside, the thick wicker beneath her feet feeling a bit lumpy against her shoes.
The overhead fire hissed like snakes as the balloon master shut the door behind her.
She whirled. “Is it very secure?”
“I’ve never once had anyone fall out of one of my balloons, so yes, my dear. There’s not a thing to worry about. My stalwart assistant and I will be managing the rope the entire time.” He pointed at a beefy man on the other side of the balloon, manning a thick tether that was mostly coiled on the ground.
“Now then, King, just place the tip of your arrow close to the overhead fire. You needn’t put it all the way in for it to light. Once you shoot, my assistant and I will bring you down. Ready?”
Bram gazed at her. “Are you?”
Her breath stalled. How would she ever be ready for this? What a rash decision she’d made!
But there was no easy way to turn back now.
Biting her lip, she nodded.
“Right, then.” The balloon master retreated several steps. “Ease her up, Mr. Hagethorn!”
The rope gave way. The basket tipped as it left the ground. Not much, but enough to cause her to clutch the side of the basket and face inward. There was no possible way she’d look over the edge.
