Still not trusting Angelo to keep his mind on his task, Rory was keeping an eye on him when she was approached by the circus owner himself, Mr. Dutton.
The man’s checkered suit was enough to blind her even on this overcast day. He grinned, chomping on a fat cigar. “Ah, here she is at last. The balloon lady.”
“Aeronaut,” Rory grated. She plucked the cigar from his plump fingers, dropped the stogie to the ground and crunched it beneath her shoe.
“Hey! That was an expensive see-gar.”
“And that’s a bag full of hydrogen,” Rory said, pointing at the balloon. “One little spark and they could be picking up pieces of us all along the Jersey side of the Hudson.”
Mr. Dutton’s eyes widened, and he took a few extra stomps at the crushed cigar himself. Then he stepped back and cocked his head at her admiringly.
“Well, now, don’t you make a peach of a bridesmaid!”
Rory was not about to allow her irritation to be deflected by the man’s oily compliments. She was still annoyed about all those blasted flowers caught up in the balloon’s rigging. But before she could complain, Mr. Dutton dragged her over to meet the minister.
The Reverend Titus Allgood looked very prim and very scared.
“Is this thing really quite safe, Miss Kavanaugh?” he asked in a quavering voice.
“Completely safe,” Rory said.
Tony, who happened to be passing by within earshot, gave a loud snort. Rory glared at him. She still hadn’t managed to calm Reverend Allgood’s fears when the circus band was heard to strike up a flourish.
An excited murmur ran through the crowd at this signal that the wedding procession was about to commence. The band blared out the strains of Mendelssohn’s Wedding March. From the main tent across the fairgrounds, two elephants led the parade, followed by a line of lovely ladies in tights riding whiteponies adorned with feathers. Drawing up the rear was a flower-bedecked open carriage in which rode the bride and groom, driven by the ringmaster himself in a red coat and top hat.
As the crowd clapped with pleasure, Rory tried to smile, but it was difficult to disguise her chagrin. This had formed no part of her father’s dream, this usage of the Katie Moira to perform a cheap circus stunt.
Her father’s vision for the company had been so much more than that—grand plans of establishing an aerial mail service, a passenger line, even the use of balloons for scientific exploration.
Someday, Da. Someday, Rory vowed silently.
The crowd pushed and shoved, and it was all the roustabouts could do to prevent a general surge forward as the wedding carriage arrived in the clearing.
The groom was the first to alight, doffing his high silk hat to the assembled masses. The Fantastic Erno’s handlebar mustache bristled as he flashed a smile. With a flourish, he turned to hand down his bride.
The crowd let out a collective gasp. Rory gaped at Miss Glory Fatima’s idea of a wedding costume. She was garbed in the skimpiest pair of white tights Rory had ever seen. The skirt of her leotard did not even cover her calves, and the glittering bodice scarcely contained Miss Glory’s ample charms.
Mr. Dutton snatched up his bullhorn again, and the crowd had to endure a rather long-winded speech. Just as everyone was getting a bit restive, he finally concluded.
“And now, suspended miles above the earth, Miss Glory Fatima and the Fantastic Erno will exchange their solemn vows, witnessed by that intrepid balloonist, Aurora Kavanaugh.”
“Aeronaut,” Rory said wearily.
Erno helped his bride climb into the balloon’s basket. He also assisted the white-faced and trembling minister. To Rory’sannoyance, her skirts hindered her from scrambling into the gondola with her usual dexterity. Tony had to lift her over the edge, and she thought he clung to her a little longer than necessary.
“I heard thunder again,” he muttered in her ear. “This better be the shortest wedding on record.”
Rory merely smiled.
“I mean it, Rory. Ten minutes and then I’m telling Angelo to haul?—”
She cut off his warning by giving the signal to Thomas that he could begin undoing the lines that tethered the balloon. The Katie Moira immediately surged upward several feet, now held back by only the thick rope affixed to the winch. The balloon bucked in the wind as though it resented even that restraint upon its freedom. Miss Fatima gasped and clutched at Erno. The minister looked as though he would have liked to have done the same.
Rory motioned to Angelo to start cranking the winch, but he was too spellbound by Miss Fatima’s costume to pay any attention. It took a sharp command from Tony to set him and Pete into motion.
The muscles in the forearms of both young men appeared strained as they struggled to hold in the surging balloon and let the rope out smoothly. As the Katie Moira started upward, the crowd gave a great cheer.
Owing to the wind, the ascent was a little rough. Cursing the flowers again, Rory clung to the rigging, setting free a shower of blossoms. She cautioned the others to move about as little as possible, an unnecessary admonishment for Reverend Allgood. The man was frozen with fear.
