‘You would risk that for me?’ Caroline’s eyes filled with tears.

‘In an instant, but I would not have you reduced to scrimping and saving, and living in penury. You deserve the best, and only the best.’

‘You are the best,’ she whispered, and laid her hand briefly upon his arm. He in turn laid his other hand upon hers, and pressed it, just for a moment. She made him feel like a king, except that at present he looked like being a king without a kingdom. He swallowed rather hard.

‘Caroline,’ he murmured reverently, and her mouth formed a silent ‘oh’ of pleasure, as if he had kissed her. ‘You must have faith, as I have, my dear one, for I cannot believe that we can be kept apart. Something must happen that will enable us to be happy.’

Mr Newbold touched Lord Martley upon the shoulder, and remarked that the barrels were being brought forward.

‘You would not wish to risk Miss Felbridge in their vicinity.’

‘Indeed not! Let us retire to a safe distance. Er, what distance do you think that would be, Newbold?’

‘Safe?’ He let his voice drawl. ‘I would guess at some fifty yards, but preferable … several miles. I declare myself thoroughly bored by balloons.’

‘Well, to be honest, they are not very exciting when deflated, and once they are full, do they not float away out of sight? So I will agree with you there.’ Lord Martley shook his head. ‘Bit like morris dancers. Not that they float away, of course, but … I saw some once. Rum set of fellows I thought the lot of them, what with bells and handkerchiefs and hopping about.’

Mr Newbold’s lips twitched, and his gaze caught Henrietta’s. They shared the moment silently.

When they returned to the carriages, Lady Elstead bore a glazed expression. Mr Soughton was still expounding upon gases and ‘rubberising solutions’, and she looked thoroughly bored. Lady Soughton’s expression was once again of rapt interest, but it might have been that she had learned to cultivate this whenever her son spoke, and did not actually listen to a word. Lord Martley, thinking discretion the better part of valour, slipped away just before the quartet reached the line of equipages, and it was Mr Newbold who handed the ladies tenderly back up into the carriage, and was then invited to take the spare seat, even though it faced the wrong direction, for ‘the balloon going off’ as Lady Elstead phrased it.

In the end, the ascension was not accompanied by any explosions, nor any sounds beyond the tensing of the ropes before it was let free, or the collective ‘ooh’ of the crowd as it lifted into the air, at first quite quickly, and then more gently, as the wind took it on a westerly course.

‘How do they know where they will end up?’ enquired Henrietta softly, lest Mr Soughton overhear and give a long answer.