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“They’re wrong, Anne.” Benedict shook his head, determined to restore her good humor. “So wrong. What you’re doing up here is amazing.” He grasped her hand. “You are amazing, and if they can’t see what I do, then that’s their loss.”
She shrugged. Her expression reflected reservation. “Yet you’re terrified every second you’re with me in the balloon.”
“That doesn’t negate the fact that this is still history breaking nor does it diminish your skill at piloting the balloon.” He squeezed her fingers. “Never doubt your talent. Never think your passion is misplaced. And never let some people’s poor attitude regarding what’s precious to you distract you from that purpose.” He held her gaze, hoping she understood. “You’re changing the world merely from your presence, your drive. Focus on that instead of the noise.”
“Oh!” Anne’s free hand crept up. She pressed it against the base of her throat. “I’ve never heard such a wonderful speech from a man, and a titled one at that.” A tiny little sniff gave away her reaction. “But you need to stop else I’ll cry, and that will fog my goggles and impair my eyesight, which is never a good thing while piloting a balloon.”
His grin widened. It was quite rewarding to have affected her like that. “Even though the very thought of being up here, doing something so incredibly risky terrifies the hell out of me, the fear I carry around doesn’t feel as stifling when I’m in your company.” It was an admission of sorts as well as an allusion to one of his flaws, but he wanted her to know.
“I’m glad you told me.” She moved into his space, and lifting onto her toes, bussed his cheek. “If it’s madness, what I do, then I don’t ever wish to be sane.”
“Perhaps insanity has its place and purpose.” For wasn’t that what was brewing between them, and his wanting to explore it? He put a hand to his cheek as she stepped away, for wasn’t he already sinking into his own with what he felt toward her?
“We’ve covered the village and we’re headed over fields. Do you wish to go farther?”
On the flight or the pursuit of this unexplained attraction?
His stomach lurched with dread. Oh, God, what would a descent feel like without a tether? “Are you satisfied that your balloon and rigging will hold up for a flight around the width and breadth of Cranleigh?”
“I am. Everything is in perfect working order. I know what my capabilities are.” When he thought to relax, she held up a hand. “However, because we didn’t know how long this particular trip would last, we don’t have enough hydrogen remaining to bring the balloon back to Worthington Hall.”
I’m going to die.
He attempted to ignore the fear buzzing at the base of his spine. “All right. So, what does that mean?”
“Nothing much. We’ll set down as near your land as I can get.” Her shrug was elegant. “Matthew will follow with the wagon and pick us up. It’s really standard procedure for a flight.”
He forced himself to relax and swallowed the ball of dread lodged in his throat. “We won’t crash land?”
“Absolutely not.” She flashed him a grin. “Unless you want that thrill?”
“I don’t. Thank you.”
“Sooner or later, you’re going to need to stare your fear straight in the face. That’s the only way to conquer it.” She lowered her voice. “You never will if you’re constantly running from it, hiding behind the assessment of risk which prohibits you from taking a chance that will challenge your terror.”
He wiped at the sweat on his forehead with the back of a hand. “Today is not that day. It’s enough I’ve managed to keep it more or less in check to come up here with you.”
“Indeed, it’s a wonderful start.” She touched his arm. “Perhaps you’ll share with me what happened in your life that made you this way.”
It wasn’t a command or a question, merely a suggestion, and he appreciated there was no pressure. Slowly, Benedict nodded. “When I’m ready, I will.” Out of everyone, he felt she would understand.
“Good. Now, prepare yourself mentally, Worthington. We’re about to descend.”
Once more he clutched at the sides of the narrow basket. How did one brace themselves when one was about to literally drop out of the sky? It wasn’t as if the contraption had wings to control wind direction and movement, or even legs like birds to land upon. “What this balloon needs is a rudder of sorts. It would help you move and even steer. Perhaps you should invent something along those lines.” Would talking help with the abject fear that held his spine in ice? Or was it better to remain silent?
“Excellent observation. I’ve thought the same myself many times over, and given enough time and materials, I might just do that. I have a prototype.” Anne pulled on the chain that led to the vent. Each time she did so, the balloon descended a few feet. “It certainly would make navigating around trees much easier than holding onto hope.”
The risks she took every time she went up staggered him. How could this woman face the unknown with such fearlessness and verve? Did nothing ever terrify her like it did him? Promising himself to find out, he dug his gloved fingers into the woven wood of the basket and attempted not to hold his breath.
Or show her what an abject coward he was.
Then he dared himself to peer over the rim of the basket at the ground, where a field was rapidly approaching. His stomach flipped and he nearly cast up the contents of his accounts, but that didn’t stop the wild sensation racing through his belly and along his spine as the balloon went down, down, down at a quick clip.
“Dear God, slow down!” Would it hurt much to be slammed into the dirt while all the bones in his legs were shattered? As the hydrogen in the balloon vented, ripples marred the envelope’s surface indicating it was deflating.
“Do shut up, Benedict. I’m quite in control.” A trace of annoyance went through her voice. “You either believe in me or you don’t.”
Those words were true enough, though trust had nothing to do with the very real fact he could now discern individual faces on the sheep or leaves on the nearby trees… and still they were dropping.
