I was going to remark that grouse are usually shot in the air so unless Hugo had the power of levitation he was unlikely to be in the line of fire, but then I saw Darcy’s warning glance and kept quiet. The chauffeur had come around and helped the duchess into the backseat. My mother hopped in beside her. I looked back at Darcy as I climbed in.

“Take care of yourself,” he said.

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Balmoral, then the loch beside Castle Rannoch
August 20

We were a subdued little group who took tea in the sitting room at Balmoral later that afternoon. The men had arrived back, grumbling about the day’s shoot being ruined and who had invited a boy like that who had no idea of the rules of shooting etiquette. I noticed that Darcy was no longer among them. Neither was Major Padgett, nor were Earl and Fritzi. I looked around the assembled company: the king and queen, their older companions, their sons, my cousins, Siegfried, Gussie, my mother and Max. Surely nobody here could have shot Hugo, and certainly none of the above was my contact from the special branch.

I noticed the tragedy hadn’t put them off their tea. There was the usual delightful assortment of teatime favorites on the low tables—hot buttered crumpets, warm scones with cream and jam, freshly baked shortbread, slices of Dundee cake, a Victoria sponge. Maids went among us, refilling teacups. The men were tucking in with relish. Much as I adored such things and had been deprived of them recently, I couldn’t bring myself to eat more than a couple of bites. I hoped Darcy made the local constabulary see the possibility that this was murder and not an accident and that extra precautions should be taken around the royal family.