“What the devil is it?” Simon demanded.
“I’m afraid it’s Lady Billingsley,” Milton intoned. “She hasfallen.”
“Christ,” he bit out. “From what?”
The ordinarily formidable butler swallowed. “From a window,it would appear, Lord Sandhurst.”
Shock speared her. Lady Billingsley had fallen from awindow? Dear heaven. Judging from Milton’s grim visage, she was eithergrievously injured or worse. And then something sinister occurred to her. LadyBillingsley would not have merely fallen from a window. It was architecturallyimpossible. No indeed, she would have jumped on her own accord.
“Is she…” Simon allowed his question to trail away,seemingly incapable of completing it.
“I’ve sent for Dr. Williams, but I’m afraid his attendancewill not be necessary, my lord.”
“Where the bloody hell is she?” Simon shot out of thecarriage as if he were a cannon ball, leaving Maggie to be handed down in hiswake.
“In the east garden, my lord,” Milton called after him, butSimon was already running.
Her heart plummeted. Maggie gathered her skirts up in herfists and hurried after him as quickly as her mules would allow her feet totravel. She was terribly afraid of what she would find but neither did she wanthim to face the awful scene on his own.
She had to stop twice on account of pebbles working theirway into her shoes. By the time she reached the edge of the immaculate eastgarden, Simon had garnered quite a bit of a lead on her. Her corset bit hersides as she rushed to catch up with him, fear tangling with the growing knotof worry in her stomach.
And then she saw it, a billow of pastel skirts marred by theundeniable stark red of blood. The dress itself appeared to be suspended in theair, draped over the intricate wrought iron fencing on the garden’s perimeter.Maggie’s frantic pace slowed as comprehension filtered through her jumbledmind. Heavens. She pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle the horrified screamrising in her throat. The entire picture came together as she spotted pale armsand a blonde head hanging listlessly downward.
Dear God. Lady Billingsley had been impaled on the fencewhen she’d fallen from the window. Her form was utterly still. Milton’s wordsreturned to Maggie as she watched her husband rush to Lady Billingsley’s side.I’vesent for Dr. Williams, but I’m afraid his attendance will not be necessary…Maggie knew without a doubt that Lady Billingsley was not long for the world.
Simon ran straight to her anyway, not faltering for a momentas he attempted to rescue her, Maggie supposed, by lifting her limp body fromthe spiked fence. He struggled to free her, letting out an inhuman cry ofgrief. Maggie reached him as he at last pulled Lady Billingsley from herignominious perch atop the fence. Blood seeped from her wounds anew. Her skinwas the gray of a sky before a storm. Her eyes were open yet sightless. Redtrickled from her mouth as Simon held her to him, sinking to his knees. Alllingering questions were dashed. Lady Billingsley was dead.
“Eleanor,” he moaned. “Jesus, Eleanor. What have you done?”
A violent surge of nausea hit Maggie, forcing her to turnaway from the grisly scene. She had never seen death in a way that was lessthan peaceful. Lady Billingsley’s departure from the earth had been anythingbut. She thought of how frightened the woman must have been, falling throughthe air to her demise. How horrific it all would have been.
“Simon,” she forced herself to say through lips that hadgone dry with the terror of the moment. “She is gone.”
“No,” he denied. “She’s not, damn it.”
She looked back to see him cradling Lady Billingsley’slifeless body as if she were his dearest possession on earth. It was clear toMaggie that his love for the other woman had never abated. He was devastated,his voice laden with wild grief. She felt like an interloper, watching withoutknowing what to do, how to help him. Tears pricked her eyes.
“Simon,” she said again, placing a hand of comfort on hisshoulder. “You mustn’t torture yourself.”
“Where the devil is Milton? Get me Dr. Williams, damn you,”he growled, rocking Lady Billingsley in his arms. Tears fell unabashedly downhis cheeks. “She needs assistance.”
Maggie’s heart broke for him. She searched her mind forwords, but what could she say that would ease his suffering? He was holding adead woman in his arms, the woman he had loved. It was as if the tentative bondthey’d forged had fallen from a cliff, dashed on the rocks below. Maggie wasonce again an unwanted wife who didn’t belong before and who certainly didn’tnow.
But she hated to see him tear himself apart. “I’m so sorry,Simon,” she said simply, careful to keep her voice low, comforting. It wasquite a feat given the horrors before her. She never could have imaginedreturning to this.
“Leave me, Maggie,” he demanded, his voice ragged. “Please.I need to be alone.”
He could not have hurt her more had he slapped her fullyacross the face. She snatched her hand from him and spun away. The tears she’dbeen holding finally fell, tears for Simon as much as for Lady Billingsley. Andyes, as selfish and horrid as it was, tears for herself as well. She knewinstinctively that there could never be a recovery from such a tragedy. Never.This horrible death would change everything.
Milton stood behind her, his ordinarily expressionless facefilled with open sympathy. She knew he had heard Simon’s dismissal of her. Hecleared his throat. “Come along with me, my lady. You ought not to linger here.I shall see you into the care of the capable Mrs. Keynes.”
“Yes.” She allowed herself to be escorted into a side door.“Thank you, Milton. You’re most kind.”
“Of course, my lady.”
“Please stay close to him,” she added. “He doesn’t want me,but I very much fear he shouldn’t be alone.”
“I will do as you ask, my lady.” With a bow, he handed heroff to Mrs. Keynes, who hovered over her like a mother hen.
