The Body in the Garden

by Katharine Schellman

Lily hovered around the edge of the dance floor for a few minutes, uncomfortably aware of the curious glances directed her way. None of her school friends were in sight, and Jack was leading a pretty girl to the dance floor. Besides which, her feet hurt, her head was pounding from the noise and the late hour, and the air was stifling in the ballroom. Lily sighed and, giving up on following Serena’s instructions, found a door and slipped outside.

  CHAPTER 3

  One benefit to being a widow, Lily reflected with bitter gratitude, was the liberty of movement. As Miss Pierce she had been carefully chaperoned, but as Mrs. Adler she was her own mistress. As long as she did nothing too scandalous, society would allow her to pursue her own course.

  At that moment, all she wanted was a few minutes to be quiet and alone.

  The doors from the ballroom opened onto a wide terrace. There were other guests outside, but they were far enough away that Lily could relax against the balustrade and stare into the gardens, her mind wandering.

  It took her several minutes to realize what she was seeing.

  Two people were standing at the edge of the garden. One was a man, the other a woman in a pale dress, but their faces were in shadow. Lily was too far away to hear voices—or perhaps they were speaking too quietly—but she could guess from the tense lines of their bodies that they were having a heated argument.

  She leaned forward, unable to help herself. Judging by the well-placed slap that the woman below suddenly delivered to the man’s face, the scene below was worth observing.

  The man stumbled back a step. Immediately the woman stepped forward, the tension gone from her petite form as she reached for his face, urging him to turn toward her so she could inspect where she had struck him. The man shook his head and said something that made her drop her hands and step back, her fists clenching at her sides as she turned away. The movement took her into the dim light cast by the ballroom windows, and Lily held back a surprised gasp. The woman below was Miss Oswald.

  “My dear Mrs. Adler.”

  The sudden voice behind Lily made her jump. The last thing she wanted was to be caught spying. Hoping that she didn’t look too flustered, she turned to find Reggie Harper watching her.

  Mr. Harper was tall, even compared to her own above-average height, and dressed to the height of fashion, with a brightly striped waistcoat, skintight pantaloons that showed off every muscle in his legs, and shirt points starched so high he looked as if he could scarcely turn his neck. As he saw her taking in his appearance, he bowed. “I apologize for startling you. You must think me a dreadful boor.” There was an unpleasant edge to his smile.

  “Pray think nothing of it, Mr. Harper.” Lily hoped he would realize her interest in conversation was as vague as her tone. When he showed no sign of leaving, she added, “I am afraid I—”

  “You must excuse my ill manners in approaching you like this,” he interrupted. Lily, who disliked few things more than being interrupted, frowned, but he was too busy moving closer to her to notice. “But given my friendship with your late husband, I am sure you will forgive me.”

  Lily took a deliberate step away. “I did not know you and Freddy were acquainted.”

  “We were at Eton together, ma’am, and then Cambridge. Old friends, though we had fallen out of touch in recent years.” His expression became a little rueful, the look so artificial that Lily felt her annoyance quickly turning into anger. “I had been seeing to family affairs and did not hear of his death until very recently.” He sighed, one hand on his heart, the other rising to stroke the exposed line of her shoulder. “Such a terrible loss. You must feel it cruelly.”

  Lily forced herself to breathe deeply and evenly. It would not do to create a scene at Serena’s ball. “It was very hard—” she began coldly.

  “But life goes on.” Mr. Harper interrupted her once more. “How wise of you, my dear.” Suddenly, he was standing very close and clasping her hand. “For a woman such as yourself, life can become very interesting indeed.” His free hand rose to her cheek.

  “Release my hand, sir.” Lily stepped back as far as she could, but he followed her swiftly, his fingers tight around hers.

  “I should very much like, Mrs. Adler, to be granted the privilege of showing you exactly how interesting,” he murmured.

  Lily took a deep breath. “Tell me, sir, do you practice your half of these exchanges in front of a mirror?”

  The question caught him off guard. “What?”

  While he was at a loss for words, Lily took the opportunity to slip from his grasp and put several feet of distance between them. “I do not care to speak with you anymore, Mr. Harper. Kindly do not approach me again.”

  She turned to walk away, hoping he had the wits not to push his advances any further. He did not.

  “My beauty, you cannot mean what you say!” Mr. Harper grabbed Lily’s arm, pulling her to a halt.

  Lily reacted without thinking, and he grunted in pain as her elbow struck the point just below his breastbone. Once she realized what she had done, she did it a second time.

  Mr. Harper dropped her arm as he doubled over, gasping for air. Lily, her expression cold, considered boxing his ears for good measure. Instead she said, “Freddy went to Oxford.”

  He stared up at her with watery eyes, hands braced on his knees as he wheezed. “What?”

  “My husband studied at Oxford, not Cambridge.” Her voice was icy. “I suggest you depart for the evening and never approach me in such a manner again. Do I make myself clear?”

  He winced as he used the balustrade to pull himself upright. “You are a damned harpy.”

  Lily began to regret her decision not to box his ears. “Just so, sir. And now would be an excellent time to leave, unless you wish to spend the next month explaining your broken nose.”

  For a moment he looked as if he was going to advance on her once more. But Lily lifted her chin and met his eyes, and something in her unruffled expression seemed to unnerve him. He settled for sneering at her before he strode away down the terrace.

  Lily watched just long enough to see him out of sight, then let out a relieved breath and sagged back against the balustrade. She didn’t actually know how to break a man’s nose, but some further threat had been necessary. The thought made her laugh, a hysterical edge to the sound. There were always rumors that this widow or that was engaged in a dalliance once free from the restrictions of maidenhood and marriage, and they had always sounded rather scandalously delightful. But an unwelcome proposition was not at all pleasant.

  She was shaking, she realized, her skin prickling and sweaty all over despite the cool air. Returning to the ballroom in such a state was out of the question, but a sudden flurry of laughter as a crowd of guests came out onto the terrace made her unwilling to stay there either. Needing a moment alone to gather her thoughts, Lily turned to the garden below.

  The Walters, to Serena’s chagrin, lived just north of Mayfair. The previous Lord Walter had wanted more property than generally came with a town house and had purchased space near Marylebone Park, which the architect John Nash was currently turning into a retreat for the Prince Regent. The Walters made up for their less-than-fashionable address with a London rarity: gardens that stretched behind their house, a delight of carefully pruned shrubbery and climbing flowers, hidden from the house by a tall boxwood hedge. It stretched nearly twice the length of the house beyond the terrace, and just as Lily had hoped, the heat and noise of the ballroom soon dropped away. Only moonlight illuminated the path, and she wandered through the shrubbery until the smell of horses and dung told her that she had arrived at the mews.

  Lily shivered, the filmy sleeves of her gown no protection against the breeze, and brushed a stray curl from her cheek. She was not surprised to discover tears there as well. Freddy’s mother had meant well when she suggested Lily move to town, but returning to London was not proving to be the immediate cure for grief she had predicted. “You need something to do, dear, something to distract you,” Lady A
dler had said kindly. “Perhaps some charity work?”

  But Lily’s grief still felt too fresh. She had waited three long years to marry Freddy, and his death had come after only two years of marriage. She had spent so long looking forward to living a life and starting a family together that she didn’t know what to do with herself now that she was alone. Enjoying her widowhood was unthinkable.

  Together, Lily, Freddy had promised her. We shall do something that matters for the people of this country. None of that was left for her now.

  And as Reggie Harper had made clear, a woman in her position was considered useful for one thing only.

  Lily took a deep breath, pushing such ugly thoughts out of her mind and trying to think practically. She had taken the house for the season, and unless she returned to Hertfordshire, there was no other place for her to live. She had friends in London. And even if she would have preferred staying outside to returning to the gossiping, flirting masses inside, the air was too chill for her to linger. It was time to put her society mask back on and return to the ball.

  Making up her mind helped, even if it was only about what to do for the rest of the evening. Her tears were gone, and her breathing was calm. Giving her clothing and hair a quick pat to make sure they were tidy, Lily made her way back through the shrubbery.

  That was when she heard voices.

  The two men were speaking quietly, so she didn’t hear anything until she was nearly on top of them. The urgent tone of the voices was clear, though. Without thinking, Lily paused behind a tangle of trees and leafless vines, not wanting to walk into the middle of an argument.

  And then, because she couldn’t help herself, she leaned forward to listen.

  “… cannot be serious,” the first voice—deep, cultured, and angry—was saying. Lily thought it might be familiar, but the man spoke too quietly for her to be sure. “You insolent young …”

  “… am quite serious, sir. If I am not paid …”

  “… do not even know who you are!”

  The second voice chuckled. “But I know who you are.” That speaker was younger than the first, his voice lighter, with an accent she couldn’t place. “And the information I have …”

  There was another moment of low, tense conversation that Lily strained to hear, then, “Who wrote this?” the older voice demanded suddenly.

  The voices dropped again, and the only thing she could pick out sounded like, “… ruined if you do not pay what I ask.” A matter of unpaid vowels, Lily wondered, money lost and won at a gaming table?

  At last the first voice rose enough to be heard more clearly. “… think anything you say would damage me? Publish your speculation. You are no one, and no one will believe you.”

  There was a rustle of footsteps, and Lily realized that the deep-voiced gentleman was turning to leave. A jolt of panic raced through her. If either man realized they had been overheard—or worse, caught her in the act of eavesdropping—she would be in very serious trouble. Lily began to back away, thankful for whichever efficient gardener had made sure the paths were clear of leaves and branches.

  “I will not—!” The young voice burst out violently, and then just as swiftly was cut off.

  In the sudden quiet, Lily clearly heard the click of a pistol’s hammer being drawn back.

  She had to get away. Feeling panicked, Lily told herself to run, but her legs felt frozen though her whole body shook.

  “Easy, lad.” The deep voice again. “No need for that.”

  The other voice replied but was again too low to hear. Lily didn’t know which of them held the gun, and she didn’t want to find out. She was mere feet from two highly nervous men, one of them armed, and she had to get away. Bunching up her dress in her fists, she finally forced her trembling knees to bend and crept backward.

  When she was out of earshot, Lily turned and ran until she reached the hedge. There she paused, breathing deeply, taking an extra moment to calm down before returning inside.

  Gentlemen argued all the time, she told herself. But they wouldn’t resort to violence in the middle of Serena’s garden. If it was a matter of honor, they would meet to settle it privately. And if it was a matter of business, there was a court system to deal with such disputes.

  This logical train of thought was making her feel better. Surely, her nerves on edge from the encounter with Mr. Harper, she had imagined the sound of a pistol being readied. What gentleman would bring a gun to an evening of pleasure? There was no reason to be scared—

  The cracking report of a pistol echoed through the gardens.

  Lily hiked up her dress and ran toward the house. Not stopping to think what someone on the terrace might see, she dashed up the steps.

  She was looking back over her shoulder when she collided with someone tall, her momentum carrying them both back several steps before the other person steadied them both. Biting back a scream, Lily looked up, terrified that she might have run into one of the two men.

  The light spilling out of the ballroom illuminated his face. “Mrs. Adler?” Jack didn’t let go of her arms. “What’s the matter? Are you well?”

  “Perfectly well.” She pushed herself away from him, her movements sharp and abrupt. The terrace was empty again, save for the two of them, but it wouldn’t do to have someone come out and find her in his arms. “What are you doing here?”

  He frowned. “Looking for you. Lady Walter said she saw you disappearing towards the terrace …” He trailed off, taking in her distress. “You’re trembling.”

  “I said I am well.” But he was right, she was still shaking. “I had a bit of a fright …” She wanted to believe she had imagined it all, but she had never been good at lying to herself. And if someone had been shot, he needed help, not for her to fall to pieces. Dragging in a long breath, she looked back toward the garden. “Not a fright. Something terrible happened.”

  He looked at her sharply. “Did someone … did you …?”

  “Nothing to do with me.” Now that she had made up her mind, Lily was impatient to take action. “I was walking in the garden, and I heard … I think someone has been hurt.” He grew very still, and Lily took that as a sign to continue. “I heard two men arguing, and one of them had a pistol. And just now I heard a gunshot.”

  His expression was unreadable as he studied her face; then he turned to look at the garden once again. “This just happened?” She nodded. “Did you see either of the men?”

  Lily was about to answer when a quick, scuffling noise from the boxwoods made her turn sharply. “What was that?”

  “What was what, Mrs. Adler?”

  “I thought I heard footsteps … is someone there?”

  The silence stretched until Jack said, his voice very patient, “Perhaps it was an animal?”

  “It wasn’t …” Lily frowned. “In any case, we mustn’t delay. Whatever happened, someone may need help—”

  “Did you see one of these men shoot the other?”

  Lily scowled at the interruption. “No, I was already on my way back to the house.”

  “I did not hear anything.”

  Lily stared. It hadn’t occurred to her that he would doubt her. “You think I imagined it.”

  “I did not say that. But it might not have been the sound of a gun—”

  “Am I the sort of person who imagines things?” she interrupted, fists clenching with impatient anger. “Who makes up stories to get attention?”

  He stared at her for what felt like a very long time. At last he shook his head. “No. Of course not. If you go back into the ballroom, I will look around—”

  “We will look.” She cut him off again. “You do not even know where to go.” She lifted her chin. “I do not need to be coddled, Captain.”

  His expression might have been wry if it hadn’t been so tense. “No, you do not, do you?” He glanced over her shoulder, eyeing the dark gardens once more. “Stay close behind me. If some jumpy fellow with a gun is nearby, I would rather you not be the one to surp
rise him.”

  The sense of danger, which had faded as they stood there talking, came creeping back. Lily shivered. “Very well. But we should hurry.”

  Side by side, they made their way between the hedges, Lily carefully retracing her steps. The sound and light from the ballroom faded once more, but bright moonlight illuminated the gardens.

  Which was why, when they came into the clearing, it was only too easy to see the body on the ground.

  CHAPTER 4

  Jack stopped so suddenly that Lily walked into him. It didn’t occur to either of them to apologize or move; they simply stared at the man lying on the ground in front of them.

  Jack was the first one to recover, going quickly to the body and touching his wrist and neck. Lily didn’t understand what he was doing until he said, “We’ll not be needing a doctor.” His voice seemed oddly loud in the silent garden.

  Lily said nothing, only nodded and continued to stare, swallowing rapidly against the sick feeling in her stomach and throat. The body was a young man—the second voice, she decided slowly, feeling as though her mind was not working at normal speed. The one with the pretty accent. His clothing was well made but simple and unadorned; a merchant’s clothing, perhaps, or something similar. His coat lay open, and she couldn’t keep her eyes from going to the dark stain on the breast of his white shirt. In the moonlight it looked as black as his short, curly hair. There was something familiar about him, but she didn’t know what it was. The realization annoyed her enough to make her focus; they couldn’t count on the gardens remaining deserted forever, and standing around wondering if she was about to be sick helped no one.

  She swallowed again and, taking a deep breath, crouched next to Jack.

  He started to his feet, as surprised as if he had forgotten she was there. “What in God’s name are you doing?”

  “Looking for any clues, of course.” Lily shivered and crossed her arms over her chest. “I think his was the second voice I heard. He wanted to be paid—the other voice was too old and deep for such a young man.” She looked around, frowning. “No gun, though that is hardly surprising … Now, that is odd.” Something white caught her eye, and she bent down to discover a dozen pieces of torn paper ground into the mud just a few paces away from the dead man. She fished out one of the pieces, but it was mangled beyond legibility. “No clear footprints on the ground either, and we’ve muddled them up ourselves, so there’s no saying which direction the man who shot him went. But I only heard two voices.” Tears blurred her vision as she studied the dead man’s face. “This poor fellow—”