Page 12 of The Misfortune of Lady Lucianna

In the form of Lady Lucianna.

A couple reentered the ballroom and hurried past him, but he kept his narrowed glare on the object of his ire.

A wisp of pale green, followed by the face of an auburn-haired woman moved to block his path—and his sight—as she stood on her tiptoes just inside the double doors, wavering from side to side.

“Excuse me, miss.” Roderick made to step around the woman, but she stepped in the same direction, blocking him once more.

The slip of a woman giggled—giggled!—but finally stepped around Roderick with a simple word of apology. “Do beg my pardon.”

He nodded curtly to her, but she’d already flitted farther into the room.

Leaving Roderick free to pursue Lady Lucianna on the terrace.

He stalked through the open doors, his narrowed glare sweeping across the outdoor patio and back again.

His hands clenched at this sides as he inspected the two couples on the terrace. Neither included Lucianna.

“Where in the bloody hell has she made off to?” he muttered, gaining a puzzled glance from one of the couples.

There was no way to escape but back into the ballroom—or down the steps into the unlit gardens below. The collection of shrubs, hedges, rose bushes, various flower blossoms, arches, benches, and statues seem to go on forever from his vantage point, at least until the night cast everything into utter darkness.

She was down there, Roderick could sense it.

It was possible she watched him even now; getting a laugh that she’d outmaneuvered him once more. His irritation swelled to the point of boiling over at her avoidance of a situation she’d caused.

She may have had the last say earlier in the day, but they were on even ground now. She’d known who he was at Bentley’s. And now, he knew who she was.

Tonight, he was determined to have the final word.

Roderick shoved his hands into the pockets of his evening coat, thankful he hadn’t stopped to hand it over to the footman, and started down the steps into the cold, dark gardens below.

The second his Hessians hit the soft, damp grass of the nearest path, he was also glad he’d forgone his ballroom shoes. It was enough that his valet would give him hell for the disrepair his boots would surely be in by the end of his excursion to find Lady Lucianna.

Nevertheless, he pushed onward. The dew from a blue blossom clung to his sleeve, and he brushed it away.

Each path he ventured down was empty.

Each hidden seating area was vacant.

Finally, the narrow path he’d selected opened into a large, circular area with a statue depicting rounded, naked cherubs, spouting water into the fountain below. The moon above lit the open space and reflected off the pool of water.

Serene. Quiet. Peaceful.

Roderick could not enjoy any of what the picturesque garden landscape had to offer.

Not when his entire body tensed in anticipation of locating Lady Lucianna.

The only sound was his footfalls as he stalked farther into the night and away from the ball at his back. A rose thorn caught his trousers at his knee, digging into his skin and sending pain shooting down his leg as he pulled free.

The music from the betrothal ball had receded, as had any light given off by the terrace torches. The full moon afforded him little help as he passed under a topiary arch into yet another courtyard with benches and several statues—this time featuring animals.

Scanning the open area, Roderick looked for any movement, listened intently for any sound that would betray Lucianna’s whereabouts.

Nothing.

No movement.

No sound.