Page 4 of The Wedding-Crashing Duchess

She turned again and took one of the paths which widened near what appeared to be a small service courtyard. Augusta slowed, trying to determine whether the building connected to the main house.

Someone stood beneath the trees ahead. The figure was tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in a long dark coat with the hood drawn up against the rain, with one hand resting upon a cane.

He must be a gentleman. The coat was too well cut for a servant, and even at a distance the cane appeared ornamental rather than crude. If he knew the grounds, he could direct her toward the house.

Augusta nearly called out, but then decided against it.

To approach an unknown man alone in a dark garden would be reckless. If anyone saw them, it would be a scandal. Better to turn around and find the terrace herself.

Augusta took a careful step backward, and the man shifted. The faint light from the outbuilding caught the upper end of his cane, and her attention dropped toward the ground. The cane had what appeared to be a raven-like figure on top of it.

At first, she thought the dark mass near his feet was a discarded cloak. But as her vision adjusted, she realized it was an arm. It lay unnaturally against the wet gravel, the hand pale and open beneath the rain.

A loud gasp escaped her lips, which was enough to alert that figure to her presence. He started to turn towards her, and her survival instincts rushed in.

The next moment, she was running away.

The path divided again, and she took the steeper turn. Her lungs burned almost immediately as rain blurred her sight.

The ballroom lights appeared suddenly between the trees, and Augusta forced herself onward. She crossed a strip of lawn, climbed the terrace steps, and reached the glass doors. The footman who had let her out stared at her in shock before pulling one open.

“My lady!”

Augusta rushed past him.

“My lady, are you hurt?” the footman asked.

She could not answer, and instead rushed inside the ballroom to find Duncan and Charity. It took her a few moments, and a lot more curious glances were thrown in her direction.

“Are you alright?” Charity noticed her first, and both of them stopped whatever engagement they were a part of once they saw that the color had been drained from Augusta’s face. “You are soaked.”

“I saw…” Augusta tried to draw breath. “Outside… there was someone outside.”

“Who?” Duncan’s expression hardened.

“A man…and he stood… he was standing near a body. Someone has died. There was somebody dead on the ground.”

“What do you mean, dead?” Charity’s fingers tightened around hers.

“Where did you see this?” Duncan stepped closer, lowering his voice.

“In the garden. Beyond the hedge. There is a path leading toward a smaller building, and I became lost when it began to rain.”

“You went into the lower garden?” Charity asked, alarm overtaking everything else.

“I was just… trying to clear my head.. I…”

“Did the man speak to you?” Duncan asked.

“No, but he saw me.”

Duncan’s jaw tightened.

“Stay here with Charity.”

But Augusta followed before her sister could catch hold of her.

“Augusta,” Charity called sharply. “Come back.”