Pascale Auber & the Ruritanian Riddle

V The Ruritanian - 2

My rescuer looked genuinely surprised, his eyes first wide, then angrily narrowed. His jaw tightened. "If you wish, I will turn this flivver around and - "

"Please don't!" I interrupted. I put a hand on the young man's arm, as if to restrain him. I could feel his warmth, just barely, through the thick fabric of his coat sleeve, and up close he smelled of cinnamon and cardamom. "He has already turned his ship and fled. Besides," I tilted my face so I could look up into his eyes, beseechingly. "I feel much safer knowing that you are here protecting me."

The flattery did the trick. The young man grinned. "It is both an honour and a pleasure, Miss. Although – if you do not think it too impertinent a question – might I have the honour of knowing your name?"

Perhaps I am stupid; I was certainly inexperienced. The Ruritanian seemed too genuine, his outraged gentleman act too perfect, for him to be a danger to me. I answered him truthfully. "Pascale Auber," I said. I managed a neat curtsy without removing my hand from his arm, still smiling.

He nodded, and repeated my name as he piloted his small craft ably between a pair of church spires . "Miss Pascale Auber. I shall endeavour to remember that. It is Miss Auber, is it not?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, batting my eyelashes instead. "But of course."

His smile broadened, though it was replaced almost instantly by a frown. "We really must inform the local constabulary about your frightening experience."

"Do not worry about that just yet!" I insisted, hearing my own alarm in my voice. "Simply take me down safely, if you please."

Looking sheepish, he brought his small aircraft neatly down to a landing in an open plaza set aside for that purpose. It was hung all around with bunting and flags, in celebration of the upcoming wedding of Her Majesty to the younger son of a continental monarch. The effect was delightfully festive, but I had no time to appreciate it.

The young Ruritanian offered his hand to help me down from the flivver, saying "If you please, Miss Auber."

I looked to the left and then the right, before taking his hand. I allowed him to help me down. My heart was pounding and the envelope I had stolen from the airship was like a lead weight in my reticule, but I did not immediately release his hand, and I did not flee from the square. I thought again of the Ruritanian insignia on the fliver's wings. I asked, "How can I ever thank you, sir?"

The well-dressed stranger grinned at me. "You can meet me for dinner," he offered, "And I shan't take 'no' for an answer."