She reached for her knife, in case Huntington thought to trick her, but it wasn’t there. Had she left it back at the Sinclairs’ house when she’d changed? Had she become so accustomed to being normal that she’d really forgotten to wear her knife? Maybe the threat of it would be enough to keep Lord Huntington in line, if need be. The fountain was only a few steps away now.
Just as she reached the edge of the large bottom basin, she tripped and fell to the ground in a tangle of skirts and limbs. Tiny bits of gravel dug into her palms as she pushed herself onto her knees. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. The thing she had tripped over lay across the pathway, partially hidden in the shadows. She used her hands to feel her way to it. After the first brief touch, she froze.
A body was lying there.
Panic took hold of her. Her feet were unsteady as she stood and stumbled toward an ornate glass lantern that sat next to the patio steps. The hot glass burned her fingers, but she didn’t feel it. Her entire focus was on the dark shape behind the fountain.
As soon as she set the light down, she saw the knife, her knife, protruding from the man’s large, jewel-colored chest. Arista stared at the still form in horror.
It was Lord Huntington.
He had on the same ridiculous bright green jester costume as before, and the vest still strained the buttons in front. A bright red stain was spreading rapidly across the green material.
She had seen a figure moving by the fountain only minutes ago. Whoever attacked Huntington had been right there.
Arista leaned over the body and listened for a breath, tried to see if his chest rose or fell, but it was too hard to see in the dim light. She leaned in closer and finally realized that there was no sign of life left in the body, though it was still warm.
Her fingers came away from his chest sticky and warm. Blood. She hastily wiped her hands on her black dress. They shook uncontrollably. What should she do? Call for help? Slip away before anyone saw her? Her knife was in Huntington’s body, but she didn’t know why.
A twig cracked behind her.
Arista whirled around to meet the wide-eyed stare of Lady Amanda Luckette. Her piercing scream filled the night. People poured out of the house. Four Watchmen ran to where Arista knelt. Two dragged her to her feet. Lanterns were held up, illuminating Arista and the grisly scene at her feet. Another man of the Watch knelt beside the body. “He’s dead,” the man said.
“It’s Lord Huntington. She’s killed Lord Huntington.” The whispers flew through the crowd.
“It’s Lady A.” The voice came from the outskirts of the crowd, deep and familiar. Wild. Dread pooled in her stomach. Nic had warned her, but she’d thought she had time. “That’s her. She once threatened me with a knife. That same knife in Huntington’s chest!”
Mob mentality took over like wildfire.
“Lady A killed Lord Huntington.”
“I knew this day would come.”
“She’s a bad one, deserves everything she gets.”
The voices swirled around her as the men’s grip tightened on her arms. The one who had knelt by the dead man came to stand in front of her. She shut her eyes against the lights and noise as he ripped the mask from her face. Gasps and more excited whispering followed.
“Who is it?”
“Who is she?”
“She’s just a young girl?”
“A girl’s been blackmailing le bon ton all along?”
Several more of the Watch pushed through the crowd. There were now half a dozen standing around her.
“Send for the coroner and get this crowd back inside,” barked the one who’d unmasked her.
“I did nothing,” Arista said in a strained whisper. “I found him like that.”
The man sneered at her. “You were found with the body. No one else saw you. There is blood all over your hands. Your knife’s been identified as the one sticking in the man’s chest. That is more than enough evidence to see you hang.” He leaned in closer, so close his rancid breath made her gag. “Do you know how many will be glad to see the infamous Lady A hang? And you will hang for this. I’ll just take what’s inside your pockets, too. He said he’d pay extra for ’em.”
He pulled out the letters that she’d meant to return to their owners. The blood inside her veins turned to ice.
This man was on Wild’s payroll.
Her heartbeat thumped dully in her ears. She stood exposed in front of all these people. It was over. It was all over. Frantically she scanned the crowd for help. Nic had warned her to leave, or something bad would happen. She’d never dreamed she’d be exposed for all of society to see. To be framed for murder. Her knees buckled and, if not for the guards, she would have sunk to the ground.
Nic.
No.
Again she searched the departing faces, but there were no allies to be found. Several of the men Lady A had had dealings with looked nervous, like she would spill their secrets right there in the garden, but most of the faces she saw were cold.
No one would help Lady A. Not when they had been waiting for this very moment.