Page 8 of The Wedding-Crashing Duchess

“What article are you talking about?” Duncan jumped into the conversation now, looking concerned.

“A woman was found dead in Merrigold. The article said she had been dead for several days,” Augusta reminded her. “The engagement party was several days ago.”

Duncan sat back, his jaw tightening. Augusta could see that he understood the connection, even if he was not yet willing to accept it.

“Do you think…” Charity shook her head, though the color had faded from her face. “Augusta, we searched the garden almost immediately. Surely, it cannot be the same incident. Otherwise, we might have found something, surely.”

“Not immediately,” Augusta shook her head. “Remember? I had to find you, and then we had to explain what had happened. It is possible that the body might have been moved. Though it is an entirely short time frame, I think that whoever possesses enough gall to commit a murder, might also be adept at moving rather quickly.”

As she spoke, she was piecing together whatever evidence she had in her own mind. Duncan looked out the window for a moment, clearly troubled, but he didn’t say anything yet.

Charity tightened her hold upon Augusta’s hand, and narrowed her eyes. “Are you certain of what you saw?”

“I was certain until we returned and found the path empty,” Augusta said. “That was the only reason I doubted myself.”

Charity looked toward Duncan. “Do you think the constables already know the body may have been moved?”

“I cannot say,” he replied.

“Then we must tell them,” Augusta said. “If the woman at Merrigold is the same one I saw, then I may be the only person who saw the man who moved her.”

Charity still looked deeply unsettled. “Perhaps we should go to the constables now.”

“We are already on our way to the wedding,” Duncan said. “There is little sense in turning back when the church is nearer. Besides, we are only making assumptions here. Surely, they can wait.”

“But I know what I saw…” Augusta tried to argue again. In her mind, she felt as though she had something concrete.

“Yes, but it is a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?” Duncan replied. “We shouldn’t be so hasty about these things, and it is good to give yourself some pause as well. Let’s not rush it. We can speak with Lord Hewes after the ceremony and go to the constables afterward.”

Augusta glanced through the window again, nodding after a while.

He was right. There was little use being hasty about the whole thing.

The wedding had seemed important when they left Blackstone Manor. Now it felt strangely distant. By the time the carriage reached the church, Augusta had made every effort to compose herself, though it was not very useful.

The news of the body at Merrigold remained fixed in her thoughts, but there was nothing she could do until after the ceremony.

Duncan had promised they would speak to the constables, and she trusted him to keep his word.

For the moment, Augusta had to set aside Merrigold as Phillipa was about to be married, and whatever Augusta intended to tell the constables would have to wait until the ceremony was over.

The church was already crowded when she arrived with Charity and Duncan. Augusta had scarcely removed her gloves when one of Phillipa’s maids approached her.

“Lady Phillipa would like to see you before the ceremony, my lady,” the young woman said. “Her mother has allowed a few minutes.”

Augusta glanced at Charity, who gave her an encouraging nod, before following the maid through a narrow passage beside the chapel.

Phillipa waited in a small room at the rear of the church. She stood before a tall mirror while Lady Hewes adjusted the fall of her veil.

“You may speak with her for a few moments,” the countess said, gathering her gloves from a nearby table. “But please do not delay her. We are already very near the appointed time.”

“I shall not keep her,” Augusta promised.

Lady Hewes gave her daughter’s veil one final inspection before leaving with the maid. The moment the door closed, the room became noticeably quieter. Augusta approached Phillipa and looked at her reflection in the mirror.

A bride. She looked the part.

“You look beautiful,” she said immediately, and it was an honest remark. “The gown is exactly right for you, and fits you perfectly.”