The Body in the Garden

by Katharine Schellman

  “Dr. Palmer,” he replied, bowing over her hand before turning to his patient. “Let’s take a look at you, my girl, and make sure nothing is broken.”

  As he knelt for his examination, Lily drew the butler aside. “Make sure she does actually follow his orders and rest her ankle. Anna can help with things in the kitchen as needed.”

  “Never fear, Mrs. Adler.” The butler’s white teeth flashed in a quick smile. “She thinks she can run circles around me, but I’ve learned a trick or two for managing the old girl these last twenty years.” His smile faded as he glanced back at his wife. “Did she tell you what she saw?”

  “She did.” Lily frowned. “Though she insists she must have imagined it.” Even if there had been someone at the door, there were any number of tradesmen who could have been stopping by. But a niggling voice in the back of her mind told her to be careful. “But … keep an eye on things. In case she did see someone, after all.”

  * * *

  Jack and Miss Oswald managed to have a civil ride by exchanging only about twenty words before their hackney coach arrived at Audley Street. Once there, he handed her down and would have walked her up the steps to her aunt’s house, but she dropped her hand from his instantly.

  “Thank you for your kind escort, Captain,” she said, stepping smoothly back. “I am sure we shall meet again soon.” Her words, and the tone in which she delivered them, were perfectly polite and correct. But her posture, and the deliberate distance between then, said in no uncertain terms that she had no intention of letting him accompany her any farther.

  Jack would have assumed that she didn’t want her aunt or any of the neighbors seeing him and getting ideas—after all, the girl was already the subject of enough gossip. He gave her an amiable enough reply before swinging back up into the carriage to take his leave.

  But something in her posture made him look back as the carriage pulled away, and it was suddenly clear to him that she had no intention of going into her aunt’s house at all. She stood just off the street, head bent over as if peering into her reticule to look for something. No gently bred lady would linger on the street in such a manner.

  For a moment be was tempted to call to the driver to halt. But caution took over. He wanted to know what she was going to do. So he waited until they had swung around the corner, before rapping on the roof of the coach. As soon as it stopped, he swung out, paid the driver, and hurried back to the corner of Audley Street, wondering if he was being ridiculous.

  He was just in time to see Miss Oswald, walking slowly but deliberately, disappear around the corner of the street across from him.

  The back of his neck prickling with suspicion, Jack followed.

  When she was three blocks from her aunt’s house, Miss Oswald hailed a passing chair and stepped into the box. Jack was too far away at that point to hear the direction she gave the chairmen, but they were near Hyde Park, and the streets were growing full as the evening promenade began. Jack was easily able to follow on foot through the slow-moving London traffic, keeping the girl’s chair in sight as it turned south toward Hyde Park Corner.

  At Chesterfield Gate, the chair halted, and Jack stepped back quickly, letting a passing knot of young dandies shield him from view as Miss Oswald stepped out. While in the chair, she had pulled her veil across her face and buttoned both her spencer and gloves as snugly as possible. Her clothing said without a doubt that she was a lady of quality, but if he hadn’t been following her from the beginning, he wouldn’t have recognized her at all. Jack pulled down the brim of his own hat as she glanced around, trying to turn his face away while still keeping an eye on her.

  Even if he hadn’t seen her sneak away from her aunt’s house—for there was no possible way that she was permitted to wander the streets of London unaccompanied—her furtive behavior, and the way she was carefully concealing her identity, would have put him instantly on his guard. Something in the back of his mind had warned him to keep an eye on Miss Oswald ever since Mrs. Adler had revealed the girl’s connection to the dead man. And it seemed his instinct had been correct.

  It was easy for Jack to follow at a distance, keeping the strolling couples between them as Miss Oswald set off into the park, walking as briskly as she could without attracting attention. A few people glanced her way, or nodded to Jack as he passed, but they were too wrapped up in their own business and flirtations to pay anyone else much mind. At last, near the river, she slowed, and Jack ducked behind a shadowed stand of trees as a man approached. His face was mostly hidden by a tall collar and a hat pulled down low to shade his eyes, but Jack guessed by his loose-limbed way of moving, and the slight gangliness to his frame, that he was still young, perhaps just old enough to be out of university.

  “Madam.” The man bowed but looked nervously around, as if afraid someone would see them together, before offering his arm.

  “Sir.” Miss Oswald sent her own glance around the park, then, stepping close, took his arm.

  “I did not know if you would make it.” There was a slight tremor to the man’s voice, and Jack saw Miss Oswald smile in response.

  “I knew you would wait,” she said, her voice almost too low for Jack to hear. His eyes narrowed as she continued, “Between my aunt and Mrs. Adler, I feel as though I am watched all the time. But … here I am.” She lifted her shoulders in a graceful shrug. “And I have learned a few interesting things today. Should you like to hear about them?”

  For a moment they came close to Jack’s hiding place, and he heard her murmur, “… General Harper; do you know of him?” before they moved out of earshot again. Heads close together, they walked off, soon blending in with the other strolling couples.

  Jack stayed where he was. There was no good way to continue shadowing them: they were heading into an open stretch of the park, where it would be far easier for one or the other to notice him. But the girl was hiding something, that was certain, and it seemed her mysterious gentleman was privy to all their secrets.

  Frowning, Jack moved off in the other direction, then hailed a chair of his own.

  He would need to tell Lily, of course. But she was fond of her new friend, and he had already misstepped with her once. This time, he needed to be absolutely sure before he said anything.

  CHAPTER 13

  Left to her own devices, Lily would have preferred to stay home that evening and mull over the new information she had gained. But mulling would have to wait. When Carstairs brought up the letters, she discovered a note from Serena. Lord Walter, it seemed, had left town unexpectedly—Lily frowned over that—and Serena was left without someone to accompany her to Lady Jersey’s concert that evening.

  And I insist, Dear Lily, the viscountess wrote, that you join me. I know you will want to argue, but I have already told Lady Jersey that I will be bringing you, so you see you have no choice. We may even bring that charming Captain of yours along, if he does not mind sitting through a concert. Do not abandon me, Dear—you know I am depending on you!

  The concert was to feature a performance by Madame Catalani, the popular soprano who had fled France after Napoleon’s return, and invitations were highly coveted. And then there was Lady Jersey herself: her opinions, repeated in every gossip sheet, could secure or destroy a person’s reputation within the ranks of London society. Even taking into account her recent arrival in London and her black gloves, Lily knew that rejecting the invitation of such a prominent hostess would hurt not only her social standing but also her chances of discovering the murderer. Friendship with Serena had seen her admitted to the Walters’ circle—a group composed of diplomats, government officials, and wealthy families, in which prominent members of society like Lady Jersey might cross paths with virtual nonentities like Lily herself. It was among this glittering, brittle society that Mr. Finch had been murdered, and there lay the clues to who his killer was.

  So after a nap and a light dinner, Lily steeled herself for an evening out.

  She fussed over her appearance more than
usual that night, trying and discarding each of her evening gowns in turn. Sighing over her own nerves, Lily settled at the dressing table, still undecided, and addressed her maid. “Have you been practicing the new style à la Meduse?”

  “I have, ma’am.” Anna fetched the curling tongs, which had been heating by the fire. “Though why anyone named a lady’s hairstyle after that Gorgon creature is beyond me.”

  Lily smiled. Anna had been appalled when she had learned what à la Meduse meant. “Greek and Roman style is all the crack these days. You’d not have me look out of fashion, would you?”

  “No, ma’am. But it’s clear to me it was a man had the naming of it,” Anna said tartly. Going to the wardrobe, she added, “It will look a treat with your purple silk.”

  Lily ran an unsteady hand over the gown as her maid held it out to her. Made up in the latest style, with sheer sleeves and three flounces along the bottom, the gown—and most of her new wardrobe—had been a gift from Freddy’s family. Lady Adler, Freddy’s mother, had encouraged Lily to go to town “to begin living your life again, my dear,” and, when Lily had protested that she had nothing fashionable to wear, had called in her personal dressmaker and commissioned no fewer than ten new dresses. She had even ordered two day dresses and an evening gown in colors for when Lily laid off her black gloves. Sir John, Freddy’s brother, had taken it upon himself to find the cozy little town house on Half Moon Street and hire the staff.

  Their kindness was overwhelming, and it made her feel terribly guilty. The income left to her after Freddy’s death, combined with the marriage portion her father had reluctantly settled on them when he agreed to the match, had left Lily comfortably positioned. She could have maintained a town residence on her own if she had been economical, though perhaps not in Mayfair. She knew the Adlers expected her to remarry, and their gifts were intended to see her situated until she found another husband. But Lily could not imagine marrying again, and they could not supplement her lifestyle forever.

  Still, she was in town now, with a beautiful new gown to wear. There was no use worrying about the rest of it that night.

  She trailed her hand over the silk flounce on the petticoat, and it reminded her of a task she had forgotten until that moment. “I meant to tell you, the petticoat on the gray silk snagged the other night, and several inches of lace were torn off the flounce.”

  “I’ll look at it tonight, Mrs. Adler.” Anna laid aside the dress, then tested the heat of the curling tongs before beginning to set her mistress’s hair.

  “No need to rush; I shan’t want to wear it for another week at least. And you’ll need to change out the sash on it, and perhaps make over the neckline and sleeves as well.” Seeing Anna make a face, Lily added, “I’ve no desire to be the subject of unpleasant gossip, which is exactly what would happen if I went out twice in a gown that looks exactly the same. And I can’t imagine you would much care for that either.”

  “Of course not, Mrs. Adler,” Anna said. “I know London folk are that persnickety. But that was one thing I did not miss in Hertfordshire.”

  “No, nor I,” Lily said, fiddling with the pins on her dressing table and sighing.

  Anna hesitated, then asked, “Are you feeling well tonight, ma’am?”

  Lily grimaced at her reflection. “I feel the need to be well armored tonight, and that requires looking the part.”

  Anna made a motherly clucking sound, which made Lily smile in spite of herself. Anna was a few years her junior, but often fussed as if she were several decades older than her mistress. “Well, we’ll make sure you dazzle them tonight, ma’am. Do you think London society has changed so much since you were last here?”

  “No,” Lily said. “I suspect it has not changed at all. Thus my apprehension.” She thought about, but did not mention, the dead body she had come face-to-face with only days before—reason enough to make anyone wary of London parties.

  Anna made another sympathetic sound and didn’t ask anything further. Lily was grateful. Anna had been her maid since she was still Miss Pierce, and though she had been privy to many of her mistress’s secrets from girlhood on, there were some things she was safer not knowing.

  * * *

  Just walking into Lord Jersey’s house at number thirty-eight, Berkeley Square, that night was nearly enough to make the hours of fretting worthwhile. The platform at the head of the room was swathed in gold and silver cloth, and hundreds of candles cast a glow over the whole space. Already the hall was filled with elegantly dressed couples floating about, gossiping and flirting with all their might. The whole scene was breathtaking. Though Lily would never thrive on society the way Serena did, she sighed in pleasure, a sound echoed by her friend as they paused on the threshold of the room. Behind them, Jack let out a low whistle.

  “And to think you planned to stay home tonight!” Serena beamed.

  “Fortunately, I had you to force me out.” Lily glanced around. “Heavens, Lord and Lady Jersey do not stint, do they?”

  “Last month Mrs. Drummond-Burrell threw a masquerade in an Egyptian theme.” Serena named one of Lady Jersey’s social rivals in a loud whisper. “Very beautiful and very expensive. I expect our hostess did not want to be outdone, which is why she worked so hard to secure a private performance from Madame Catalani. Is that not so, your ladyship?” she added pertly as their hostess appeared out of the crush to greet them.

  “Wait until you see the supper room, my dear; it is far and away superior to anything the Burrells managed.” Lady Jersey touched cheeks with Serena—they were not social equals, but the Walter family was a wealthy one, and Serena had always been popular. “And these must be the friends you told me of?”

  “Lady Jersey, may I present my dear friend Mrs. Adler, who has only recently arrived in town, and Captain Hartley, of His Majesty’s Navy.”

  “Your ladyship.” Lily and Jack both bowed.

  Lady Jersey smiled. Though not a beautiful woman, she was elegant, loquacious, and above all, fashionable. “Mrs. Adler. I am pleased to make your acquaintance. Lady Walter tells me you have come from Hertfordshire?”

  “I arrived in London just a week ago, your ladyship.”

  “And you, Captain?” Lady Jersey turned to Jack. “What brings you to London when our soldiers and sailors are well engaged in France once more?”

  “Unfortunate timing, I am afraid, ma’am,” Jack said. “My ship is being repaired.”

  “You must long to rejoin the fighting,” Lady Jersey said.

  “I confess I do,” Jack said. “Though my poor mother was most relieved to hear that I am ashore for the moment, and I cannot be sad to have set her mind at ease.”

  “A most devoted son.” Lady Jersey’s eyes sparkled with humor.

  “I do try.” Jack adopted a noble expression that made their hostess laugh. “If you will be so good as to excuse me, ma’am, I see a former commander of mine and must pay my respects.”

  As he bowed himself away, Lady Jersey turned her sharp gaze on Lily once more. “Well, Mrs. Adler, I applaud your decision to leave Hertfordshire. There is so much more to keep one occupied in town.” She cast a sly look at Serena and added, “All sorts of scandal and intrigue, even at the homes of the dullest people.”

  “Really, how can your ladyship say such a thing?” Serena exclaimed, looking torn between discomfort at the mention of the murder and delight at being the sudden center of attention as several heads turned in their direction. “I declare I’ve not slept a wink since it happened, and how Lord Walter could leave me alone so soon after the incident utterly confounds me. Why, good evening, Mr. Grant,” she added, as a handsome man bowed to their group. “Did I promise you a dance last week and then leave early? I am sure I did, so you need not remind me that I am in your debt.”

  “I am sure you will manage to distract yourself from your distress tonight,” Lily said dryly as Mr. Grant bent to whisper something to Serena, who then smacked him with her fan, looking happily scandalized. Lady Jersey laughed as
she moved off to greet other guests, and Lily’s heart lifted a little. Perhaps she had not completely lost the knack of London style after all.

  “Come, darling.” Serena looped her arm though Lily’s. “We should stroll before the concert begins.”

  As Serena led them through the crowd, Lily asked, as carelessly as she could manage, “Why did Lord Walter have to leave town so suddenly?”

  “Oh, something to do with taking Cousin Bernard home earlier than expected, though why the boy could not travel on his own, I’ve no idea.” Serena laughed. “I’d no desire to press him on the matter, though, since it meant I was rid of Bernard at last, prosy bore that he is.”

  Lily frowned in thought, but was distracted from answering by the sight of a now-familiar figure; if they continued on their circuit, they would bump right into him. Trying not to make a face, she gave Serena’s arm a firm tug. “Not that way, if you please.” But she was a few seconds too late.

  Reggie Harper caught sight of them and bowed, smiling as he eyed Lily. She returned his gaze, giving her chin the cold lift Serena had admired so often, and was rewarded as his smile faded into petulant confusion, then irritation. Scowling, Mr. Harper turned and shoved his way into the next room.

  Serena had watched the silent exchange, frowning. “What was that?”

  Lily’s mouth firmed. “He knows I’ve no wish to speak with him. I was reminding him of that fact, as he seemed determined to forget it.”

  “Mr. Harper? I did not think you knew him well.”

  “I do not.” Lily kept her voice low. “He approached me at your ball.”

  Serena raised her eyebrows. “He did not make a favorable impression?”

  “He was …” Lily paused, searching for the right phrase. “Looking for a rather merrier widow than I turned out to be.”