The carriage bearing the crest of the Marquess of Canterbury rolled across the crushed gravel path before it rattled to a halt, kicking up a small cloud of dust that settled slowly in the warm afternoon sun.
Stepping out, Maggie took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of gunpowder in the air, getting thicker now that they were quite close to the shooting grounds.
"Shall we?" Percy held out a hand in front of Maggie, who made a grumbling sound as she put her hand into his.
Before them stretched the expanse of the private shooting ground, a world away from the manicured lawns and rose gardens Maggie was accustomed to.
Rough-hewn wooden fences marked the boundaries of several shooting lanes, each one a carefully maintained patch of earth.
