Page 54 of Just a Little Daring

August pushed his way through the crowd, increasingly anxious. He would bloody murder Anna when he got his hands on her. He hurried on, and in his haste and concern, ploughed into something solid.

“Merde!”

“Steady on!”

August righted himself and prepared to make an apology when he recognised the three men.

“Monsieur, forgive me,” he said, hoping the comte and his brother would not take offence. Jules, the Marquess of Blackstone, who appeared to be accompanying them, looked on with undisguised amusement.

“No harm done,” replied the comte. “But you appear to be somewhat out of sorts. Is there a problem?”

“My dratted sister is the problem,” August admitted. “I must find her.”

“Is she in trouble?” the comte’s brother, Mr Demarteau, asked in concern.

“Not yet, but at any moment, yes, I believe so.”

The comte frowned, lowering his voice. “Then I must insist you allow us to offer you our assistance. What can we do? You can rely on our discretion. I give you my word of honour.”

Both men turned to stare at Jules, whose eyebrows shot up. “Well, I’m no sneaksby,” he retorted, looking affronted. “I’ll hold my tongue.”

August sighed, the offer relieving him more than he wished to admit. He took off his hat and slapped it irritably against his thigh. “I don’t know. That’s the devil of it. My sister is a passionate advocate for the rights of women. I know she plans for something to happen today, something to bring attention to her cause, but I do not know what.”

“If she’s looking for a spectacle, I’d suggest the balloon,” Jules said, gesturing to the extraordinary thing.

August nodded. A nagging sensation in his guts had been telling him the same thing. “I’ve already been there and found no sign of her, but you’re right. Though she could be anywhere in this blessed crowd.”

“Well, shall we, then?” Mr Demarteau asked.

The men nodded, but Louis César hesitated, turning to look behind him. He rubbed the back of his neck, scanning the crowd.

“Again, Louis?” his brother asked, his expression one of concern.

“What is it?” August asked, wondering what he was searching for.

The comte shook his head. “Probably just my imagination,” he muttered irritably. “Come along, we had better help find the young lady.”

Jules strode beside August as they made their way back to the balloon.

“No hard feelings?” he said, watching August with interest.

August snorted and shook his head. “None. I owe you a debt, truth be told. Seeing her with you was the wake-up call I needed.”

“Pleasure to be of service, and please don’t trouble yourself with thoughts of jealousy. Vivien is a wonderful girl and I’m pleased as punch for you both, but I wouldn’t marry her if you paid me. No offence to the lady. She’d say the same. We’d murder each other.”

August grinned, remembering that Viv had said much the same thing.

“All’s well that ends well. That is assuming my outrageous sister doesn’t put the entire family beyond the pale with whatever it is she has planned.”

“Lively girl, is she?” Jules said with interest.

“You could say that,” August grumbled, pushing his way back through the crowds to where he’d last seen Viv with the Knights and fretting himself to death when he discovered Vivien was not where he had left her.

“Sainte Mère de Dieu,” the comte exclaimed, clutching at his brother’s arm.

August followed his horrified gaze to the basket of the balloon. It was an extraordinarily shaped contraption, rather like a deep gondola, with large golden eagle’s heads staring out from both sides. Attached to the balloon with white and crimson gores and draped in swathes of purple velvet, it was quite a sight. It was not, however, what held August’s attention.

Both Vivien and Evie were standing in the gondola, staring up at the balloon, whilst Mr Knight was deep in conversation with the balloon’s proprietor and captain, Mr Charles Green. Whilst all parties were so occupied, a lithe, blonde figure hurried up to the back of the balloon and climbed in, immediately disappearing as they ducked down and out of sight.