He extended his arms around her again, and she laid her head back against his shoulder, trading her view of the land for that of the sky.
She wanted to thank him for his attempt to ease her grief. Thank him, too, for the gift of this day, this perfect experience of flying.
“The sky is darkening toward the south,” he said, after a few moments of silence. “It might be an approaching storm. We should put down.”
Montgomery reached up and grabbed one of the ropes. A second later, the gondola lurched to the left.
She closed her eyes and began praying.
“It’s all right, Veronica,” he said, amusement threading through his voice. “It’s nothing unusual. It’s just the air leaving the envelope.”
She opened her eyes, looked up at him. “Then I shall attempt to be a little more courageous. You’ll tell me if anything goes wrong?”
He nodded. “What do you think of your first voyage?”
“It’s been wonderful,” she said, and meant it.
“Does that mean you’ll go flying with me again?”
“I should like to, very much.”
“You’re a constant surprise,” he said, smiling at her, dimples leading the way to his beautiful blue eyes.
She was stunned by the feeling suddenly sweeping through her. She’d never considered that love might slip up on her unawares, that she might feel her heart open in the span of an instant.
He frustrated her, worried her, and could make her angrier than anyone, including Amanda. She’d felt ecstasy in his arms, and now excitement in his balloon. But she’d never thought to love him as easily as this, as instantly as this.
“What is it?” he asked.
She shook her head and moved to stand beside him. He extended an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, and she wrapped one arm around his waist, surveying Scotland spread before her.
When she was a little girl, she’d loved gloaming, the time just before darkness bathed the earth. The air grew misty, as if seen through gauze. This morning, turning to midday, was even more perfect.
Saturated with emotion, nearly giddy with it, she laid her cheek against Montgomery’s chest as they began to descend.
“We’ve visitors,” he said, his tone suddenly cold.
She peered over the edge of the gondola to see three carriages, each of them horribly familiar, and felt her heart sink to her toes. Three carriages: one for Uncle Bertrand and the boys; one for Aunt Lilly and the girls, and the third for all their trunks.
“Uncle Bertrand,” she said.
“And the entirety of your family,” Montgomery added.
She turned helpless eyes to him. “I’m very much afraid you’re right.”
They exchanged a glance.
“Can’t we just stay up here?”
His mouth quirked in a smile. “For a little while, but we have to land eventually. We might as well face them.”
“I would much rather stare fear in the face, Montgomery,” she said. “Than the whole of my family.”
Chapter 22
“You need to discipline your staff, Veronica,” Aunt Lilly said. “One of the maids actually had the temerity to smile at me this morning.” She lifted the lid of each of the chafing dishes, frowning. “What is this penchant the Scottish have for oats?” she asked. “A good dish of herring is what’s needed in the morning. Don’t you agree, my dear?”
Veronica knew better than to assume the last statement had been directed toward her. Uncle Bertrand looked up absently, then nodded.
