A Study in Death (Lady Darby Mystery, A Book 4) Read Online Free

ignore my knocking for so long. Or perhaps Lady Drummond had ordered them not to answer. If so, how badly had Lord Drummond hurt her?
    No. That couldn’t have been it. If she hadn’t wanted to see me, for whatever reason, she simply would have sent a note to cancel today’s portrait session. It must have been something else.
    Unless Lady Drummond was too incapacitated even to write.
    I lifted my hand to pound yet again, determined to stand there all day if necessary to gain entry, when I heard hurried footsteps approaching. I inhaled in relief and turned to nod at the coachman in dismissal as the door finally opened.
    However, it was not Jeffers who greeted me, but a wild-eyed footman gulping breaths.
    “Heavens,” I exclaimed. “Whatever is wrong?”
    “Lady Drummond is no’ receiving,” he gasped as if prompted.
    “What do you mean?” I demanded, pushing past him into the entrance hall. His strange demeanor frightened me.
    “M-m’lady. Ye canna come in,” he called after me.
    “Of course I can.”
    I marched deeper into the house, ignoring his agitated gestures as he followed me. The sound of voices farther along the corridor drew me toward the back parlor. As I approached the doorway, I could see several servants clustered around something. A maid wringing her apron and a shock-faced footman hung back while another maid and Jeffers kneeled over someone. My heart rate accelerated as I recognized the hem of the woman’s dress.
    “What happened?” I demanded as I rushed forward. I dropped my satchel and shrugged off my cloak, kneeling beside Lady Drummond’s prone form.
    Jeffers slid to the side so that I could better see the baroness. She stared wide-eyed up at the ceiling, her facial muscles almost slack, but the rest of her body constricted in pain. Her hands formed into claws wrapped around her abdomen. I reached out to run a hand gently over her hair, letting her know I was there. Her eyes sought mine out, pain and panic shimmering in their depths. The sour stench of fear filled my nostrils. I used my other hand to search for a pulse in her wrist. It raced.
    A third maid I hadn’t noticed from the doorway sat on Lady Drummond’s other side. I had seen her during several previous visits, fussingaround her employer, adjusting her hair and clothing. She looked terrified. Her hands hovered over the baroness’s body as if wanting to comfort her, but afraid to touch her.
    “What happened?” I asked again, this time directly to the maid.
    Her head jerked up to look at me, as if she hadn’t noticed my presence before. “I . . . I dinna ken. She . . . she was comin’ doon the stairs when I heard her stumble. Then she began to retch, all o’er the rug.” She glanced up at Jeffers as if he would confirm her story. “We tried to take her upstairs, but we were closer to the parlor and she insisted on bein’ brought here. But once inside, she clutched at her chest and collapsed.”
    “Did you send for the physician?”
    “Straightaway.”
    I leaned over the baroness, looking into her eyes. “Lady Drummond, can you speak? Can you tell us what’s wrong? Where does it hurt?” I searched for any sign she could understand me, but she merely stared up at me in pleading.
    Reaching out, I ran an exploratory hand over her abdomen, looking for any indication that one spot troubled her more than another. However, contrary to expectation, her rigid muscles suddenly began to relax. My gaze flew back to her face and I reached again for her wrist. Her pulse, which just a moment ago had been so rapid, had slowed, beating weakly against my fingertips.
    “Lady Drummond, stay with us. Help is on the way.”
    But even as I spoke, her pulse continued to drop.
    “Lady Drummond,” I gasped.
    A raspy, anguished breath rattled from her throat as her body exhaled. I watched her chest rise once, twice more, and then it stopped. Her eyes, which had remained locked on mine, grew vacant. Lady Drummond was no longer with