After a third round of drinks, the gentlemen of the family returned to the gardens to conduct a clandestine search of the scene of the crime. The ladies retired to Jane’s rooms to beautify Ravenna for the announcement of her engagement to the Duke of Rochecliffe. In Simon’s opinion she looked beautiful enough, albeit a little disarrayed from their ordeal.

He wondered if she was as upset about his near-death as she was about their unplanned betrothal.

Fortified with French brandy, the men convened at the statue of Achilles, over which the servants had draped an enormous tarpaulin like a shroud. Grayson removed the covering to study his damaged demigod.

“Terrible shot, thankfully,” he said, sending Simon a glare of accusation. “Ravenna must have frightened the wits out of the swine. Why didn’t you notice him, Simon? You were alone, you say?”

“I’d just spotted him in the tree moments before Ravenna gave her warning. I thought he might have been a Peeping Tom watching the lovers outside the temple.”

Rhys turned to Grayson. “There are guests inside still demanding to know what happened. Some heard a shot. Have you decided how to explain the commotion?”

“Fireworks,” Grayson replied. “We’ve held displays at other affairs. As far as anyone knows, the show went off earlier than planned. Fortunately there are no dead bodies or wounded guests to account for. Perhaps this could have been part of my wife’s celebration. The gunpowder ignited as the footmen were practicing for the ball’s finale.”

“Were you staging a fireworks spectacle?” Simon inquired.

“It appears we were,” Grayson said. “It has been canceled, however.”

Simon nodded. “If only I thought fast enough to come up with explanations like that.”

“You aren’t the scoundrel that my cousin is,” Rhys said.

Grayson continued. “The rest of the story shall be that Ravenna became disoriented by the explosion. She sought refuge in the arms of a gentleman she knew. After this moment of comfort, the two of them realized their mutual love, and so on.”

Simon glanced surreptitiously toward the Temple of Aphrodite, deserted now and inviting in the starlight. If he’d realized earlier that Ravenna’s fiancé would cause her such humiliation, he might have confronted the fool in the act.

Then again, the man’s loss was Simon’s gain.

Heath popped out from behind the statue’s pedestal. “I can’t find a bullet. From what I heard it was likely fired from a flintlock.”

“Would a ball help identify the man?” Grayson inquired.

“No,” Heath said. “My gun maker might identify the mold used to make it. But that would hardly narrow the investigation to any practical degree.”

“But you’ll conduct an investigation, nonetheless,” Grayson said.

“Of course.” Heath pulled off his jacket, tossed it to Simon, and led the men back to the walnut tree. “My wife carries a Manton pistol for protection,” he told Simon. “You should consider a similar purchase for Ravenna.”

“My sister knows how to use a gun,” Rhys said. “Rather well, too.”

Heath climbed up into the crotch of the tree. “I’d venture to say she’s a better shot than the man who aimed at Simon. Or perhaps her scream truly undid him. He missed you by a mile. I could have taken off your pickle from here.”

“My head is larger,” Simon retorted.

“You’re one to talk about pickles,” Grayson said in a disgruntled voice. “Julia’s caricature of yours is still a coveted item in certain circles. Simon, did you happen to notice any smoke in the air after the gunshot?”

“No. What does smoke signify?”

Heath stretched out lengthwise on the limb. “In the absence of smoke and a pistol ball one might be inclined to wonder whether an air-gun was employed merely to give you a fright.”

“It was not an air-gun,” Simon stated. “The report was too loud.”

“I agree. And the statue sustained considerable damage. It does appear there was only one shot.”

“Get down from there,” Grayson said. “I can explain many oddities to my guests, but I don’t have an excuse for my younger brother perching like a squirrel in a tree.”

“It’s quite a panoramic view from here,” Heath said, unperturbed. With uncanny accuracy he swung down to the exact spot where Simon’s assailant had landed. “We should return to the ball.”

Grayson assumed an aristocratic posture and started back to the path. “The true performance begins now.”

Simon fell into step with the three other men. “I expect there will be gossip.”

Heath chuckled. “An understatement. Someone could be murdered at the supper table and by morning the main topic of conversation would still be the duke’s seduction. You have been captured, Simon. This is stunning news in Society. And a tragic loss to those families hoping to establish a ducal connection. It’s good for us, though. Especially for me.”

“Why is that?” Simon asked with a cynical lift of his brow.

“I enjoy solving puzzles,” Heath said. “You’ve given me a mystery to ponder.”

Simon did not doubt that his engagement would cause a stir. However, Ravenna was the genuine trophy in his view. She sparkled. He cast shadows like a cloud and had been dark-natured even before he’d inherited the dukedom.

As to the social uproar? He took encouragement from the fact that Grayson had thrived since his own scandalous marriage to the artful lady who had become matriarch of his lively family.

Indeed, it was Jane who at this moment held Ravenna under her influence somewhere inside the house. Simon shuddered at the thought of what bedevilment the pair of them would concoct together.