Page 28 of A Dangerous Engagement

He ran faster, dodging small trees and crashing through a hedge until he heard another scream. He leapt over a two-foot-tall bush and saw Miss Mayson standing beside her aunt, who was lying on the ground.

“There’s a man in the bushes,” Miss Mayson said. “I think he might be dead.”

Except for the pallor of her cheeks and her wide eyes, Miss Mayson seemed well.

Philip strode past her aunt and bent to push back the bushes where a hand lay outstretched. He did not recognize the man, and he did indeed look dead. He felt for the telltale throb in his neck but felt nothing. He examined the man’s torso but saw no evidence of injury. Then he noticed the dark liquid seeping out on the ground next to him.

Nothing could be done for him now, so Philip turned and faced Miss Mayson and her aunt. Miss Mayson was kneeling beside Miss Appleby, who was wiping her face with a handkerchief and no longer moaning. She blew her nose as Miss Mayson spoke softly to her.

“Miss Appleby.” Philip waited for her to look up and bent down to her. “Please allow me.”

She nodded and gave him her hand. Philip lifted her by her elbow, and Felicity took her other arm.

“We should get you back to the house,” he said as kindly as he could. “You have had a terrible scare.” He looked now at Miss Mayson. “You both have.”

Raised voices came from the direction of the house. Men hurried toward them.

“I shall take my aunt to our room.” Miss Mayson put her arm around Miss Appleby, who was mumbling and visibly shaking.

Mr.Cartwright and several other guests, along with a stable worker, rushed toward them but allowed the two ladies to pass.

“We heard the screaming. What’s amiss?” Cartwright asked.

“The ladies happened upon a dead body.” He stood aside and pointed. “See for yourselves.”

He watched their reactions as carefully as he could, mentally noting Mr.Cartwright’s rush to see the body, then the shock on his face. He noted Mr.Sproles’s wide eyes, Mr.Jones wiping a hand over his mouth and jaw as he stared down at the dead man, Mr.Renfroe’s muttered, “Holy saints in heaven.” No one appeared jaded or less than shocked.

“Does anyone recognize the man?”

“I think his name is Erickson,” Cartwright said.

“Yes, that was it,” Jones said.

“He was with us at the Black Boar Inn when we first began meeting and formed our reform group.” Sproles shook his head.

“It is him,” Renfroe said in a hushed voice. “Are you certain he’s dead?”

Sproles pushed forward and lifted the man by one shoulder and hip, turning him over. A bloody hole, or more accurately a two-inch slit in his jacket in the middle of his back, gave proof to the cause of death.

“Should we bury the body?” Mr.Cartwright asked.

“We should ask Lady Blackstone.”

“Or Mr.Ratley.”

But the two leaders were conspicuously absent.

CHAPTER TEN

Felicity walked with Aunt Agnes back to their room as her aunt mumbled to herself.

How would her poor aunt survive this shock? She’d become nearly comatose after her sometime suitor, a Mr.Turner, had jilted her and married someone else. That had been years ago, and her disposition had never been strong since. Even if she was able to weather the shock of finding a dead man in Lady Blackmore’s garden, how could Felicity protect her from future blows? Would she survive hearing of the other guests here becoming murderers, killing Members of Parliament, and even the king?

In their room, Felicity sat her aunt down in a chair and covered her lap with a shawl.

“Shall I go to the kitchen and get you some warm milk?”

“Who was that man, Felicity? Why was he dead in Lady Blackstone’s garden? Are we to be murdered in our sleep?”