on
themselves. Blood sprays when the jugular vein is cut in the neck. I highly doubt
they escaped without becoming soiled by it, as well as the mess they made of her abdomen.”
“I had thought of that. Your brother-in-law’s staff has been instructed to inform
me if they discover blood anywhere on the estate, be it clothing, linens, or the floor.”
He leaned forward in the pew, propping his elbows on his knees. “Lady Godwin must
have been murdered right there in the garden, sometime after dinner.”
I nodded. There had been too much blood on and around the stone bench for it to make
any sense otherwise. I needed to examine the scene. Perhaps there was some clue as
to the location of the baby or the manner of the initial assault. I also wanted to
compare the imprint of Lady Godwin’s body with the wounds I found. I was about to
tell Gage so when he made an urgent gesture with his hands.
“The killer
must
have been aware of Lady Godwin’s delicate condition,” he declared. “Otherwise, why
would he have sliced her open?”
I gnawed my lip, agreeing with him.
Gage sat up slowly. “Didn’t Lord Cromarty say that Lord Godwin is in India?”
“He did.” I realized what he was getting at. “Do you know how long he’s been there?”
“No. But it would be very interesting to find out.”
“Did Lady Godwin have a lover?”
He nodded. “Most recently, Mr. Fitzpatrick.”
I remembered the man’s arrival at the scene in the garden maze shortly after mine,
and the mud stains on the back of his trousers, but I couldn’t see how that would
have any connection to the murder.
“But I do not know how long they have been intimately connected,” Gage admitted. “I
have not made it a habit to keep track of Lady Godwin’s peccadilloes.”
No, only Mrs. Cline’s.
“Well, then, I suppose we should find someone who does,” I replied a bit more testily
than I intended. “For if Mr. Fitzpatrick was not bedding her five months ago, he’s
certainly not the father.”
His eyes seemed to laugh at me. “I see that you understand how the anatomy of that
process works.”
My cheeks heated. I may have been forced to watch my late husband dissect bodies,
but this was swiftly becoming the most intimate conversation I had ever conducted
with a man. And I didn’t like how easily Gage unnerved me. “Yes,” I retorted. “Should
I pretend otherwise?”
“No.”
I could definitely hear the grin in his voice now and was not about to stick around
to hear what else he had to say. Gage was gentlemanly enough to stand and step into
the aisle to allow me to pass. However, he was not gentlemanly enough to keep his
mouth shut as I slid by.
“Coward,” he whispered.
I did not dignify that with a response, but instead raised my chin and marched down
the aisle toward the door.
Somehow having to stand and wait for him to remove the crossbar stole a bit of the
thunder from my actions. Gage winked, obviously finding my indignation amusing. I
arched an imperious eyebrow but managed to hold my tongue. Even when he swept open
the door and bowed like a ridiculous courtier.
I rolled my eyes and strode through the doorway, only to have my dramatic exit ruined
yet again. This time by a hard object crashing down on my head.
CHAPTER FIVE
F ortunately, the blow was not hard enough to knock me unconscious. It was, however,
hard enough to knock me to the floor and blur my vision. I pressed my hand to the
back of my head and tried to rise to my feet, but the pounding in my skull made it
difficult to push myself upright. I could hear Gage skirmishing with the culprit,
and I worried he might need my help. Someone yelped and howled. I looked up and tried
to focus on the man cowering away from Gage as he dragged him back down the hall toward
me and shoved him against the wall.
Gage pulled the pistol from the waistband of his trousers and pointed it at the man.
Then he
Tabatha Vargo, Melissa Andrea