As she stared, unable to rip her eyes from the sight, she noticed certain things. The coat he was wearing was not black; it was midnight blue. The mask had fallen off him, but it was simple and black. The man had a lot of dark wavy hair.

It was him. Luc.

A thousand thoughts twisted in her head. He’d invited her out here. He’d come to meet with her. And then . . . then . . . then what?

What had happened in those five minutes?

Something terribly wrong.

Suddenly, someone put an arm around her and said, “Come with me, dear.”

She tore herself away from the grisly scene and followed that person like a child, her body trembling. The good Samaritan guided Diana to a bench, where she sat, holding the glass of champagne. Without thinking, she brought the glass to her lips and downed the whole thing in one gulp.

A second later, she pulled back and winced. It’s very likely you just drank a dead man’s champagne. This is a new low for you, Diana.

She set the flute beside her and hugged herself, rubbing her arms, but that didn’t seem to do any good. She was still shivering.

She blinked when she realized someone was sitting beside her, talking to her. It was an older lady in a blue satin gown with a massive wig, done up to look exactly like Marie Antoinette had she lived to an older age. The woman stroked her hand and said in an accent she couldn’t quite place, “I know this must’ve been a shock for you, dear. Did you see what happened?”

Diana shook her head. “No . . . I saw nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

No. She wasn’t sure of everything. All the sights and sounds around her had been overwhelming to begin with, and now, they were a thousand times more so. Even though she was seated, the balcony around her was still spinning, and she couldn’t breathe. Marie Antoinette fanned her face, but the breeze only served to distract Diana more.

Was she sure? Definitely not. In fact, she couldn’t even remember what she’d been doing in the minutes before she’d come outside. All the events from the day seemed to swirl together into one jumbled mess.

She shook her head as more and more people began to rush to the scene. Some of them were uniformed security guards. Some people were shocked, and others seemed to think it was just a part of the playacting that was going on. Whatever it was, it was chaos . . . so many people, all speaking at once. Diana closed her eyes and tried to find her Zen, just as the woman beside her began to speak loudly over her head.

“Here, dear! You’re looking for the person who discovered him? Right here. This lady, over here!”

Diana opened her eyes in time to see about twenty heads swing toward her. A short man in an overcoat and moustache broke through and started to speak to her in mile-a-minute French. Diana’s first thought was Inspector Clouseau? She opened her mouth to ask him to speak slower, but nothing came out. Her vocal cords had withered from the strain of all the screaming she’d done.