Free A Murder at Rosamund's Gate by Susanna Calkins Page A

to retch. The horses in nearby stalls began to stamp, catching wind of her distress.
    Weaker, she tried in vain to bat at the hand seeking to hike up her skirts. Wrenching her head to one side, she managed to scream once but was again cut off by Richard striking her across the face.
    “Shut up, you whore,” he hissed. “You asked for this, with all your simpering and prancing about. I’m just giving you what you want.”
    Her head spinning from the drink and the blow she had been dealt, Lucy thought distantly that she had heard someone shout. The next moment Richard abruptly released her, and she slumped to the ground. There she lay, quivering in relief and terror, barely taking in the angry voices from the door.
    “The lass and I were just talking!” she heard Richard say. “’Tis no business of yours—” The sound of a fist hitting flesh stopped him midsentence.
    “She is my business,” came the improbable reply. “Now remove yourself before I get you sacked.”
    She heard Richard swear angrily and then stalk off. Lucy sagged back into the hay, still whirling from drink and fear.
    A quiet voice came from the stable doors. “Lucy?”
    She looked up, barely stifling a groan. She could see Adam standing there, his figure a shadow. He was half turned away, looking at the dancing lights of the Embrys’ mansion and rubbing his knuckles. She felt a hot flush of shame pass through her body, mortified that he would see her this way.
    “Are you all right?” he asked, still not looking at her.
    Lucy nodded shakily and stood up. “I think so.” Her dress was torn a bit, but she hoped in the dark he could not see anything. She wiped her face.
    “Come on, then. I’ll see you home. I’ve had enough of this affair anyway.” His voice was curt, expressionless.
    They started off down the path. She tripped a little, and he grabbed her elbow to steady her. She recoiled, still feeling Richard’s touch on her body. Adam did not move to touch her again.
    Fueled by anger and shame, she recalled the shadowy figures at the front of the house. “Why are you not with your lady? She will surely be missing you.”
    Adam frowned. “I bid Judith good night. I’ve had enough of dancing and politics. I was on my way home when I saw my father’s silly little serving girl—” He broke off.
    What?! Lucy thought. You saw your silly little serving girl get manhandled by a brute? Or show her brazen ways? She wanted to defend herself, but she didn’t know of what exactly she was standing accused.
    The silence hung heavily between them. Lucy bit her lip, feeling young and foolish. For the second time that evening, she realized that she did not have her wrap. She shivered. Adam shrugged out of his cloak and dumped it around her shoulders, without saying a word. Lucy did not look up to thank him but hugged it gratefully to her cold body.
    As they walked and her head cleared, she grew calmer. The moon was gleaming through a soft haze, which fell around them like a blanket. She gazed upward. The stars numbered in the thousands, tiny pinpricks of light among a mat of darkness. She wished she were floating among them, keeping her far away from the pain she was feeling. Although she was still sniffing a little, her tears had stopped falling.
    Adam appeared deep in thought. When he finally spoke, it was not to say what she was expecting. His voice was quiet, musing. “Two comets, they say, passed each other in the night sky. Directly over the city, just two weeks ago.”
    Lucy remained quiet, trying to envision the spectacle. She was grateful he hadn’t said anything more about Richard.
    He went on, waving his hand expansively toward the stars, looking like crystals affixed to a deep violet tapestry. “One comet was dull and languid, the other sparkling and furious, moving through the sky like a great flame. Some say it was a message from the Almighty.”
    “A message?” Lucy asked. “To say what?”
    “An omen, perhaps? That his