Page 2 of The Misfortune of Lady Lucianna

A shock of greying hair over a red dressing robe came into view, the man’s face coming within an inch of Tilda’s as she pulled back.

“Tilly?” Luci called as her friend’s foot slipped from the top stair, sending Tilda’s arms swirling as her body fell backwards.

Tilda’s mouth opened, a bone-deep scream escaping before her head hit the ground, returning the manor house to the silent stillness of a moment before. Then, Tilda’s body thumped three times, finally settling on the polished floor at Luci’s feet.

Luci stood silently for a moment, her mind racing to catch up with what she’d just witnessed.

Glancing up once more, she expected the man to hurry down the stairs to help Tilda, but all she saw was a flash of red and then…nothing. He was gone, vanished.

Her stomach turned as her mind raced to connect what she’d seen at the top of the stairs.

“Edith!” Lucianna’s pulse raced, her scream high-pitched as she knelt by Tilda. “Ophelia!”

Another thump sounded on the floor.

Luci looked up to see Ophelia frozen in her place, her book splayed open at her feet, causing the final thump. Edith rushed in a step behind her.

“Luci.” Edith stepped around Ophelia. “What is it—“

She stood, shaking her head gently.

“No, no, no,” Edith sobbed as she hurried to Tilda. “This cannot be—“

“He did this.” Luci couldn’t hold back the accusation in her tone. Edith looked away from Tilda to where Luci stood. She pointed toward the top of the stairs, leaving no doubt who had been responsible for this.

Following Luci’s indicated direction, Edith narrowed her eyes on the darkened landing above them, but Luci knew her friend would see no one lingering in the shadows.

Abercorn had fled.

“Whom?” Ophelia squeaked, walking forward to stand behind Edith.

“That is not important at this moment,” Edith whispered, kneeling beside Tilda, much as Luci had done a moment before. “We must wake her up, make sure she is all right and call for the duke—and a physician.”

“There is no point.” Luci knelt next to Edith, sweeping Tilda’s hair from her face. “She is gone.”

Luci held in the sob that threatened to escape. It was imperative that she contain her emotions, at least until the magistrate was called and an accounting of the fall recorded.

Her dear friend, so nervous—yet alive—only moments before, now stared up at the ceiling, her sightless, vacant, chestnut-brown eyes forever frozen in terror.

Anger ignited within Luci, and she begged her simmering blood to cool—at least long enough for her to speak.

“They argued.” Luci grasped Edith’s arm as she reached forward to touch Tilda. “He was up there, and he pushed her. I swear it.”

Luci was helpless to do anything as Edith took in the mangled sight of Tilda, her white nightshift tangled between her legs, and her head tilted at an odd angle.

“Wha-wha-what should we do?” Ophelia wailed.

“We will rouse the house and tell them all what the duke did!” Lucianna shot to her feet once more. “Someone must have heard the commotion.”

The foyer was deserted except for Luci, Ophelia, Edith, and, of course, Tilda.

“You are correct. I heard her scream and then the thump”—Edith visibly cringed at her choice of word, and Luci wanted to comfort her—“as she fell down.”

“She did not fall.” Lucianna knew her voice reached a dangerously high pitch as she narrowed her glare on Edith; however, she was helpless to calm the rage within her. “She was pushed. By Abercorn!”

Luci stared between her two remaining friends, her eyes softening, begging them to believe her.

“How could this happen?” Ophelia asked, collecting her book from the ground.