Read Online Death Devil's Bridge by Robin Paige - Free Book Online

“Can you tell me how big it is? What it is made of? How it is controlled?”
    Charles spoke in a lecturish tone. “The aeronaut uses bouyancy to ascend or descend until he locates an air current that will take him in the direction he wishes to Sy.” He put down his paper and looked at her. “Why are you asking?”
    â€œShe,” Kate said.
    Charles was blank. “I beg pardon?”
    â€œBeryl is working on a new story, and her character is an aeronautess. She uses bouyancy to etcetera etcetera.”
    â€œOf course,” Charles said, a smile hidden in his brown beard. “What a dunce I am.” He went back to his paper.
    As he read, Kate studied his face. The close-cropped brown beard, rising to the high cheekbones. The well-shaped nose, the broad forehead, the nearly invisible scar on the temple. The laughter-lines at the corners of the firm mouth, the droop of the brown mustache, the questioning quirk of the eyebrow. It was a face she had come to love, although she had not plumbed all the mysteries behind it.
    There was a rattle of gravel in the drive outside. Charles looked up, caught her eye, and smiled. “As to size and fabrication,” he said, standing and going to the window, “come and see for yourself, Kate. Charlie Rolls has arrived, and brought a balloon.”
    A freight wagon pulled by a team of horses had stopped outside. The wagon was covered by a canvas tarp and topped with what looked like a giant-sized wicker picnic basket, turned upside-down. Charlie Rolls, nattily attired in tweeds and a golf cap, was dismounting from a horse.
    â€œThat basket is the gondola,” Charles said, pointing. “That’s where your aeronautess will ride.”
    Kate frowned, thinking that it looked very small and fragile. Tomorrow, Charles would be shooting thousands of feet into the air in that flimsy thing, with nothing to break his fall should the balloon spring a leak and the whole contraption fall to the ground—as had on occasion occurred, and recently too. But that was not something she cared to think about. She spoke instead of Rolls.
    â€œThat young man,” she said. “I wish I knew him better. There’s something about him—”
    â€œHe’s a charming chap, but rather a daredevil,” Charles said. “Knows no limits.” He frowned. “I saw him driving that Peugeot of his at something close to fifteen miles an hour.”
    â€œThe villagers think he frightened Old Jessup to death with his careless driving,” Kate said. “And Lady Marsden would certainly accuse him of behaving recklessly with her daughter.” She smiled. “Although to give the devil her due, Patsy is equally reckless. And neither Great-aunt Marsden nor Squire Thornton can do a thing about it.” Patsy’s great aunt was of virtually no use as a chaperon. Patsy did exactly as she pleased, without regard to her aunt’s objections.
    â€œRoger Thornton?” Charles asked in surprise. “What does he have to do with Patsy Marsden?”
    Kate raised her eyebrows. “Why, didn’t you know, Charles? The Marsdens have virtually promised Patsy to him.” It had to be the antiquity of the Thornton line and the extent of the Thornton lands—and perhaps the reputation of the Thornton stables—that made the squire a suitable son-in-law. It certainly was not his person, or his personality. A sterner man Kate had never met, nor one so prone to sudden ire.
    â€œBut Thornton is twice the girl’s age,” Charles objected. “And a man of violent temperament.”
    â€œAnd jealous, into the bargain,” Kate said. “I saw him last Sunday at church, positively glowering at Rolls, who was down from Cambridge for the weekend and had escorted Patsy to the service. I can’t think what Lady Henrietta will say when Squire Thornton tells her that her daughter has lost her heart to an itinerant