“Good idea,” she said. “This way now. Quickly.” She pointed toward the Wilderness, which seemed to be the direction the figure had been heading. The two of them set off together, she keeping pace with him, despite her loose boots, which threatened to give way the first time she encountered a mucky patch.
She had a sense of foreboding as they entered the overgrown garden. In the dark, the trees and unkempt rose bushes looked menacing. She had spent enough time here with Johnny the past few days that she had no trouble keeping to the path. But about ten minutes into the informal garden, Duncan paused and pulled her aside. “This isn’t working.”
Lucy nodded and took the opportunity to catch her breath. “We might have passed him or her a dozen times,” she whispered.
“I say we go back to the house and lie in wait. Whoever it was will have to return sometime tonight.”
“Unless it wasn’t someone who is part of the household.”
“Then we have that piece of information as well.”
“Back this way then,” Lucy said, already dreading a long night of waiting. Her parents always complained that half of spying was sitting in the cold and dark and waiting. Lucy knew her impatience was a weakness when it came to surveillance. She’d so much rather bedoingsomething than gathering information. But she’d tried to do something, and Duncan was right that wandering around in the garden all night was pointless.
She was carefully picking her way back along the path they’d come, but she must have taken a wrong turn somewhere because her boot sunk into a puddle, soaking her foot. She tried to pull free, and while her foot came away, her boot stayed mired in the muck.
She uttered an expletive and grasped Duncan’s arm to keep from stumbling.
“What happened?”
“My boot,” she said and pointed to the puddle.
“How did it come off?”
“I didn’t have time to button it.”
“Foiled by fashion, once again. Stand here. I’ll pull it out.” He bent and yanked. She heard the sucking sound as the boot came free. “I have it, but it’s covered in mud and wet through.”
“I’ll survive a bit of mud. I can’t make my way barefoot.”
“No need. I’ll carry you.”
She laughed and then squeaked as he bent and picked her up. She struggled against him. “What are you doing?”
“Stop or I’ll drop you.”
“I want you to drop me. This is ridiculous. I’m not a child.”
“I’m well aware of that, and if you’d rather walk in a muddy boot to prove a point, then have at it.” He set her down and started away.
He’d dropped the boot, and she pulled it over. It was heavy, which meant it had filled with muck and slime. How was she supposed to put her foot in it, much less walk? She turned the boot over, hoping to dislodge the mud, but only the water rushed out. The mud was viscous and would take time.
She glanced up, noting Duncan was several yards away.
“Duncan,” she hissed.
He stopped walking, obviously listening for her to call him.
“You were right,” she said.
He turned. “Say that again.”
She rolled her eyes. “I can’t put this on. I need your help.”
“That wasn’t what you said earlier.”
“Let me lean on you. I can hop back on one foot.”
“Say it again, Lucy.”
