Resolved, I pulled the trigger of my rifle.
The gunshot echoed across the ground.
The shot went wide as I’d intended, hitting a branch overhead that fell onto Cecelia, knocking her from her horse’s back.
The horse whinnied, backing away nervously as Cecelia rolled into the ditch, but it didn’t run off as I’d hoped. “What’s the idea?” Cecelia hollered once she’d come to a stop. “Who’s there? You almost hit me!”
I quietly slipped away with a little encouragement to Bella, making up for lost time by traveling much faster than I probably should have, although I stayed on a wide path. I lit my lantern as I neared the graveyard we’d passed earlier, coming out of the woods on the tail of Ambrose.
“Have a good time?” Ambrose asked, slowing to ride alongside me. He eyed the sack on my saddle. “I heard you were the first to kill one. Did you manage any others?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t want to hog all the fun. Thought I would give the rest of you a chance.”
Ambrose snorted, patting his own bag. “I have three. Maxwell has two. Most of the others managed a single kill, with the exception of Isabel. She managed to match my brother, if you can believe it. Impressive for someone who didn’t seem keen to hunt in the first place.”
My eyes narrowed. “Yes. Impressive.”
Ambrose cocked his head. “Unless Cecelia had some luck? Did you happen to see her as you were riding back?”
“Cecelia? No, I didn’t,” I said innocently. “I’m sure she’ll be along shortly.”
We were greeted with fanfare by the duke and Flora, who crowded around as we dismounted our horses with our bags in hand. We took turns dumping our prizes over a mountain of wood, ready to be ignited. Only one rider hadn’t managed kills. I could tell by the duke’s disapproving look that he would be out of the competition for his shortcomings.
“I don’t see Cecelia,” Isabel noted softly, slipping up to my side. “Did everything go as planned?”
“Not exactly.” I glanced at her with a tight smile. “Two kills, was it? How lucky. Almost as if you were entirely focused on the hunt.”
Isabel patted my shoulder. “Don’t be cross, Lucian. I’ll repay you if you managed to make Cecelia look poorly. And besides, I could tell that you were a natural and wouldn’t walk away empty-handed.”
“Lucky for you, that was the case.”
“There she is!” Flora shouted. “Had to make an entrance, didn’t she?”
I looked up to watch a lone horsewoman emerge from the woods slowly, giving the lights of the tents a wide berth.
Ambrose frowned, gesturing to a pair of servants to fetch her. A moment later, Cecelia reluctantly joined the group, mud caked to her shirt and trousers. Her face had brown smears across it from where she’d wiped it away.
“Oh, my,” Isabel breathed, eyes wide. “You outdid yourself, Lucian.”
She did not, I noticed, call me “Count Ludicrous.”
There was a shocked silence before the tittering began among the guests, but Ambrose was all concern as he rushed forward with his mother, fussing over Cecelia, who looked put out.
“What on the earth happened to her?” Melbourne chortled. “Looks as if the ghoul got her and not the other way around. I’ve never seen her so out of sorts. Next time she tries to put me in my place, I dare say I’ll have some leverage.”
“Did you bag any to show for it?” someone else shouted with a laugh.
Cecelia jutted out her chin defiantly as she yanked a ghoul out from her sack, stuck through with a single arrow. “Of course. And then I nearly had my head taken off with a shot. Spooked my horse.” She glared around at the guests. “Who was it then? Do you dare come forward?”
But the jeering and laughter continued until Ambrose escorted her to the house, speaking to her in close whispers, probably to reassure her.
“Well, I think it’s time to celebrate,” the duke said calmly from his seat. “Maxwell? Will you do the honors?”
“Gladly,” Maxwell said, stepping forward. He struck a match and tossed it onto the pyre. A crackling began as the kindling caught and the fire began to eat at the smaller branches. Before I knew it, flames were licking over the bodies of the ghouls, sparks flying into the sky.
I took a seat between Zachariah and Violetta at one of the tables as meals were served, low conversation rising over the cooling air. I glanced across the table to meet Maxwell’s eyes and smiled.
“I’m sorry that Emmett wasn’t here for the hunt,” Isabel said loudly. “Has there been any word?”
