Wildfire Kiss (Sir Edward 1)

“Low, very low hit,” said the duke, not moving from the position he had taken. “Besides, I have you to do that for me.”

“Me … the devil you say! Besides, I haven’t … not looking to … now look here, we are not talking about me. We are talking about …”

“Me!” He lifted his hat ever so slightly from his face to look at his dearest friend and cousin. “That is your trouble … sticking your nose into what I should or shouldn’t do.”

“The advantage I give myself for putting up with you,” Sir Charles retorted and grinned. “Besides, I am your closest friend—who, if not me to save you from yourself,” said Charles. “Look, ol’ man, do you know what they are saying in London? They say Lord Wildfire is Wildfire only on the battlefield and that you have lost your touch with women.”

“Baiting me, are we?” His grace clucked his tongue.

“Well, it is being said.”

“Listen here, Lord Wildfire is a name my men gave me in my early days after we had a succession of victorious battles against the frogs. What do I care how London decides to perceive this?”

“Don’t you … care?” Charles returned sharply.

“Trying to get at me through me ego? Beneath you, Charles. No…not a lick.”

They had by this time arrived in the heart of the buzzing fairground, and their coach came to a full halt.

Sir Charles dropped the subject and alighted nimbly from the coach without benefit of the small steps.

His grace followed, saying to his driver, “We shan’t need you, old chap, for at least an hour, so do go off and enjoy yourself …” He threw him a small leather pouch. “And here is a bit of the ready …”

It was then that something occurred that captured their entire attention!

***

“No—Otto—don’t!” Lady Babs cried, but in spite of her objection an impish gleam shone in her eyes. “We will call down trouble on our heads …” she added as further inducement as she tugged on his sleeve.

“Ha! Since when did that ever stop us?” returned her large friend, and with that he climbed onto the first step of the contraption clearly inscribed for all interested individuals as a “catch-me-who-can.”

Newly designed, constructed, and invitingly displayed, this black, gleaming metal structure stood fenced off from the hub of the crowd. It was London’s portable steam engine, a mechanical treasure advertised as ‘power subduing animal speed.’

“Do you really think it can go faster than a horse?” Babs asked in wide-eyed wonder as Otto managed to climb still higher up. Then hurriedly and with some concern, she said, “Otto, do be careful. I don’t think it looks very steady.”

“Faster than a horse!” He snorted. “It’s too heavy … too clumsy …”

“OTTO!” Babs cried out on a squeal. “It’s moving!”

“Oi … oi say there, guv’,” called out the watchman who had just arrived on the scene. “Ye shouldn’t be up there … Cum down …”

However, it was at this juncture that the ‘catch-me-who-can’ broke away with a great, creaking groan and began sliding down the avenue. As it crashed through its temporary fencing, Babs screamed, and the watchman, evidently worried about his job, cried out, “It’s the flash covey’s fault, it is … shouldn’t have been on it …”

“Yes, yes,” Babs agreed at once, “but do something!” Seeing that the watchman seemed at a loss, she began running after the engine, which luckily had not yet taken on any speed. “Otto … Otto, jump for mercy’s sake … jump off!”

Otto was looking around in some perplexity and a great deal of consternation. She realized he was worried about jumping off and doing himself some serious injury, and then she saw him reach for the steering wheel.

She also saw that he was in trouble, for the thing was headed for a massive tent.

“Yes … steer it off … hurry!” she said in encouragement to him as he reached for the steering wheel of the miserable vehicle. He would need to turn it away …

They had read that this ‘catch-me-who-can’ was a model meant for display and that certain aspects of its design had been left unfinished. Unfortunately, one of these unfinished items was the steering wheel. It was not connected to anything in particular, which Otto discovered when he took hold of it and it came away nicely into his kid-gloved hands.

Babs gasped as her friend stood wheel in hand aboard an engine that was tilted downhill and picking up speed. Otto shook the wheel clutched in his hands, and his eyes grew wide because the huge tent loomed brightly before him!

Babs was beside herself. What could she do? Nothing—not one thing could she think of that would serve. And still she ran alongside as best she could, her skirts held high in her grip. Her su

rroundings vanished from her consciousness as she concentrated on Otto and the runaway vehicle. She was fully intent on staying with him and the horrible contraption.