“Softly, I hope.”
He only smiled.
She parted her feet a little, the better to combat the balloon’s swaying sensation, and looked over the side again.
They passed over Doncaster Hall, and she was startled to note the many chimneys, as well as the steep pitch of part of the roof. It seemed as if every person living at the Hall waved to them, and she held up one hand in greeting, feeling as if she were a queen greeting her subjects.
The world lay before them, a panorama of incredible beauty. The sun, a blurry disk behind a shelf of clouds, was to their left as they headed west.
She’d never thought to see the world from this perspective and was so fascinated she lost her fear after the first few moments. Granted, it helped that Montgomery had pulled her back against him, and his arms were wrapped around her waist. She tipped forward to see the sprawling countryside beneath her, slowly passing, as if they were still, and the world was on some sort of tumbrel.
In the distance, three long mountain ranges stretched like indolent maidens, their limbs pointing toward Doncaster Hall, their heads in the north. Atop them was a mantle of white, a soft and downy blanket, warning of the winter to come.
The River Tairn, an engorged silver snake, coiled back on itself, wrapped around Doncaster Hall and slithered through emerald glens. The sparse tufts of grass near the flocks of sheep became a lush green carpet and the sheep themselves no more than black faced clouds. The air was crisp and cold, as if winter had not yet folded over to spring.
She was giddy with delight.
Peace radiated from Montgomery instead of the horrible pain she’d felt from him for so long. Peace and something else, perhaps joy. For that, alone, she’d come up in his balloon again. To share his happiness was worth any type of fear.
She wrapped her arms around her waist, her hands gripping Montgomery’s wrists. She relished his warmth but almost forgot he was there in the wonder she saw before her.
The only sound was the noise of the burner and the thump of her heart. Otherwise, the world was still and perfect.
They crossed the road and several more glens. A farmer, in his wagon, stopped his team of mules to stare up at them. A carriage on the road halted as well.
“Does everybody stare?” she asked.
He leaned close, spoke near her ear.
“They’re fascinated. Wouldn’t you be?”
She nodded. “And a little envious,” she admitted. Yet she was the one in the balloon, experiencing it all, seeing it all.
A few cottages sat together, like a frightened clutch of geese. She knew, suddenly, where they were, traveling northwest, toward Lollybroch. She wanted to close her eyes, to block out the sights so familiar to her. Yet, at the same time, she couldn’t quite deny herself the recollection of all of those warm and lovely memories.
Near the main road in Lollybroch was the Presbyterian church, its spire unassuming as if afraid to call too much attention to itself.
“I didn’t know we had a village so prosperous this close to us,” he said.
“That’s Lollybroch,” she said.
“Your home.”
She nodded, surprised he’d remembered.
“Where did you live?” he asked, leaning forward to look at the cottages tucked into the rolling glen.
“There,” she said, extending her arm and pointing toward McNaren’s Hill. “On the other side.”
She took a step away from him as if to distance herself from her memories. For several long moments, she didn’t say anything, afraid she couldn’t speak over the sudden constriction of her throat.
“Must we go there?” she finally asked, glancing over her shoulder at him. “I’d rather not,” she said softly. “Please.”
“I’m working on a way to guide my airship, Veronica,” he said. “Until then, we’re at the mercy of the wind.”
She nodded her understanding, facing forward again. This time, when he came to stand behind her, he didn’t wrap hisarms around her. She stood alone, watching the approach of McNaren’s Hill, feeling herself grow colder as they neared her home.
Whether or not she saw her house, that night was forever emblazoned in her mind. All she had to do to relive it was allow herself to think about it. Normally, she pushed away the memories the moment they came. Otherwise, she’d be immobilized by pain.
