Page 9

Stop.

Hugh closed his eyes, halting the fear from gaining more of a foothold.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

Hugh opened his eyes to his wife’s concerned tone. “I’m fine,” he said stiffly, then cleared his throat. “If you are going to tell me, then you should do so before Thornton arrives.”

No one knew of her ability to read the energy of objects, and he planned to keep it that way.

She stepped away from the closed door, likely out of caution should Goodwin still be standing outside, awaiting a summons from within.

“Tobias came to dinner last night. He arrived late, and he was well in his cups.” It wasn’t what Hugh had expected her to say, and his frown must have shown it. Audrey held up her hand to signal patience. “He stumbled, and in trying to right him, I accidentally touched his pocket watch. It gave me a vision.”

Another burr lodged under Hugh’s skin. “You’ve had two since last evening?”

“Yes, and before you grouse about it, I will tell you that in both, I saw the same young woman in the same glasshouse.”

A hard chill slowed his pulse. Hugh stared at his wife as understanding slid in.

“Go on,” he said, curiosity now overtaking annoyance.

“Tobias had come from a gentlemen’s club, but before that, he’d been in a darkened glasshouse with a young woman. She was crying and asked Tobias to leave. The energy faded, and I could see nothing more. But when I held the ring that fell from your pocket, I saw the same woman in the glasshouse again, and she was running away, as if frightened.” Audrey’s pale brows tensed as she explained, “Whomever she was running from was carrying the ring.”

Hugh understood that in her visions, Audrey viewed the world from the perspective of the object, never from any other angle. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair. The last thing he wished to do was bring Audrey to the cellar, where the young woman’s body was waiting for Thornton’s trained medical eye. But he had to be sure it was the same woman she’d seen.

“Come with me,” he said solemnly.

He led her from the office, and with a word to Goodwin, he and Audrey descended the stairs into the cellar. Here, Thornton’s cook stored everything from meats, vegetables, and cheeses to a keg of beer, racks of wine, crates of champagne, and at least two dozen bottles of whisky.

Last night, Goodwin had cleared a table of two recent crates packed with limes and oranges from Valencia so that Hugh and one of the footmen could lay out the murder victim. He’d instructed Goodwin to leave the body exactly as it was, and when Hugh and Audrey entered the cool room, he was gratified to see his orders had been taken seriously. The gas lamp Hugh held brightened the woman’s form at least a little better than the natural light coming in from a few slim street-level windows near the ceiling.

Audrey approached the table and peered at the victim’s face. “This is she.” She exhaled loudly. “It’s the woman I saw both times.”

Hugh came to stand across the table from his wife. “Do you know who she is?”

Audrey shook her head, still peering at the young woman, whose skin was now completely ashen. Hugh had been careful to position the victim on her back, her arms flat on the table by her side, rather than crossed over her chest. The body’s muscles would be fully hardened at this point, now that she’d been dead for more than twelve hours. Rigor mortis would continue to make the dead difficult to manipulate for several additional hours. Hugh had wanted to be sure Thornton had clear access to the wounds on her chest.

“Tobias can’t have done this,” Audrey said, her voice near a whisper. She met Hugh’s eyes and held his stare. “He isn’t a murderer.”

By all accounts, the youngest Sinclair was a privileged man-about-town, and Hugh had, on many occasions, thought him a bit too high in the instep. Tobias reminded him somewhat of Philip, the late Duke of Fournier and Audrey’s first husband. A little arrogant. Aloof. But on the whole, harmless.

“I need to speak to him,” Hugh said. Although, there was no way to sufficiently explain to Tobias how Hugh knew he’d seen this woman last evening.

“And say what?” Audrey asked, evidently thinking of the same barrier.

“I don’t know yet.”

A commotion upstairs heralded Thornton’s return, and the doctor’s loud grumbling reached them as he stomped toward the cellar door.

“Does anyone care to explain why the body of a murdered woman has been brought here?” Thornton asked as he came down the steps. “I am a physician, and as such I deal with the living.”

His face was fixed in a scowl when he joined them, his collar loose, his hair unkempt, and his eyes glazed. Thornton’s arched brow indicated that his annoyance would blow over in about a minute. Hugh imagined his real complaint was that he’d just been pulled from the warm bed of whatever woman he’d spent an enjoyable night with. Quick liaisons and trysts were all he cared for these days, and he claimed he would never marry again.

“You look bloody awful,” Hugh remarked as his friend came to stand beside the table, bringing with him a powerful cloud of perfume and cigar smoke.

Thornton’s glare narrowed on him. “Do you want my help or not?”

“Yes, we do,” Audrey answered just as Hugh replied, “After you’ve bathed.”