Page 78 of Regency in Color

Thalia looked up at him with all the love in the world in her eyes, reminding Stephen just how fortunate he was. “I am happier than I ever dreamed, and it’s all because of you.”

“The feeling is mutual, my love. Now, are you ready?”

“Yes. I’m ready.”

The doors swung open, and the music from within the ballroom faded away as several hundred heads swiveled in their direction. The clamor of voices hushed, and one could have heard a pin drop.

Stephen led his bride forward just as they were announced, coming to a stop at the top of the curving stairs leading to marble floors below.

“The Duke and Duchess of Westerfield!”

Heads bowed and skirts spread in curtsies like a rippling ocean wave. Stephen laid a hand over his bride’s where it rested in the crook of his elbow. Together, they made their way down the staircase and into the throng.

* * *

Later that evening,a puzzled Thalia took precarious steps down the back staircase of Westerfield Abbey. Her husband had blindfolded her, leaving Thalia to trust him to guide her. The excited murmurings of half their ball guests followed them into the night, the summer air having given way to the crisp coolness of fall.

“Almost there,” Stephen whispered close to her ear. “I hope you enjoy your gift, my love.”

Thalia grinned and held tighter to his arm. She would never grow tired of hearing him call her ‘my love.’ Nor would she ever grow tired of his flair for the romantic and dramatic. From the day of their engagement, he had been spoiling her rotten. Thalia protested, but secretly reveled in his attention.

He had just announced to their guests that he had a spectacular end to the evening planned, and he wanted them all to witness it. So, about one hundred guests had followed them through the French doors and off the back terrace. Her feet found soft grass as they reached the large stretch of lawn leading to the gardens.

Stephen placed a hand at the small of her back to bring her to a halt, then the warmth and solidity of him materialized at her back. His hands found her shoulders, and he kissed her cheek.

“I was unable to make this happen for you at Vauxhall,” he said as he untied her blindfold. “But I was determined for you to experience this at least once in your life.”

Thalia blinked as the fabric fell away from her eyes—revealing a massive hot-air balloon resting right on the house grounds. She made a small sound of shock and turned to look at Stephen over her shoulder.

“How on earth did you arrange this without my knowledge?”

Stephen grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. “You were too busy making plans with my mother. As well, the balloon didn’t arrive until the ball was well underway. You were mingling and did not notice.”

“Oh, Stephen!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him—much to the delight of the onlookers, who cheered and clapped. “It’s wonderful! I … I’m speechless.”

“Well, there’s nothing to do now but step inside and take flight.”

Trepidation curled in the depths of Thalia’s gut. “Is it safe?”

Stephen nudged her forward, and they began the walk toward the balloon. “Mr. Cunningham’s design is the safest in England and he is experienced. I wouldn’t trust anyone else with your life.”

The aforementioned Mr. Cunningham stood beside his balloon with a wide smile as they approached—wearing a greatcoat and a plaid cap—a pair of goggles lowered around his neck.

“Good evening Your Graces,” he said with a sweeping bow. “Welcome aboard!”

Stephen took Thalia’s hand and helped her inside the open basket, which felt surprisingly sturdy beneath her feet.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Cunningham,” Thalia said as the man followed them inside. “I am honored to have you take me on my first flight.”

“The honor is all mine, Your Grace. Now … don’t be alarmed. The ascent can be a bit shaky, but once we’re high enough it’s smooth sailing.”

Thalia bit her lip, moving into the circle of Stephen’s arms as Mr. Cunningham began toying with levers and pulleys. A burst of fire went up into the ignited balloon, causing Thalia to gasp and shrink against Stephen. Her husband chuckled and held her tight as they lifted off the ground. The basket bobbed and dipped precariously, and Thalia closed her eyes, afraid they might go toppling at any moment.

The sensation of being lifted churned her stomach and made her heartbeat accelerate, but she took deep breaths and reminded herself that Stephen had done this before. He wouldn’t have planned this if he thought anything could go wrong.

“Open your eyes, my love. You’re missing the best part.”

Thalia obeyed and pried her eyes open, realizing that the frightening swaying had mostly ceased. She gasped, gripping at the edge of the basket as the vast holding of Westerfield Abbey sprawled out below them—growing smaller by the minute. Cool air whipped against her face and she laughed, delighted by the sensation.