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

us.
    I exhaled shakily, an unconscious imitation of the baroness, and sank back on my calves. Shocked silence filled the room, ringing in myears, broken only by the sound of one of the maids weeping. Her lady’s maid clasped her hands over her mouth to stifle a cry. I didn’t turn to look at the others, but I assumed they were as appalled and disbelieving as I was that Lady Drummond was dead.
    Yesterday she had been so full of life. Distressed and uncertain, but also warm and vital. Now she lay before me growing cold, whatever troubles she’d struggled with still unburdened.
    The heavy hand of guilt pressed down on my heart. What if I’d asked? What if I’d tried to make her talk to me? Perhaps this wouldn’t have happened. Perhaps she would be settling into her chair as I set out my art supplies, laughing as she shared a humorous anecdote about her young children.
    I shook the distressing thoughts aside, and forced myself to focus on what was before me. I could no longer ask her what had worried her, but I could find out what had happened to her.
    I reached out to run a hand over her eyelids to close them, and then glanced around at the servants gathered in the room. What had they seen?
    “You said Lady Drummond vomited,” I said as calmly as I could, turning to her lady’s maid. Tears trailed down the girl’s cheeks. “Did you notice anything strange in it? Any blood?”
    She sniffed and shook her head.
    “What did she have to eat?”
    The maid had opened her mouth to answer when a gruff male voice in the hall cut her off. “Where is her ladyship?” the man demanded, his footsteps loud on the wooden floor.
    The servants standing in the doorway all turned as one to allow a tall, bespectacled man with an expanding waistline past.
    He took in the scene with one glance and then waved his hands. “Move.”
    Jeffers and the two maids hastened to comply, though I moved more slowly. He set aside his bag and knelt on one knee beside LadyDrummond, reaching out to feel her pulse much as I had. I watched as he studied her pale complexion and the position of her body.
    “Did she clutch her chest in pain?” he asked no one in particular, not even bothering to lift his gaze.
    The servants all looked to Jeffers, who cleared his throat. “Ah, yes.”
    The physician nodded and pushed to his feet. “Apoplexy.”
    I frowned at his hasty diagnosis. “She also vomited.”
    He reached into his pocket to extract a handkerchief and removed his spectacles to clean the lenses. “That’s not uncommon.”
    “But she wasn’t even thirty,” I pointed out, my voice growing more agitated. “And her facial features were numb, as if she couldn’t move them.”
    The physician glanced up at me for the first time, his mouth turning downward like his mustache. “And just who are you?” he retorted, replacing his spectacles.
    I squared my shoulders. “Lady Darby. I’m a friend of Lady Drummond’s.”
    His eyes narrowed, as I’d known they would. “Oh, I know who you are.”
    I tried not to react to such a barbed response, though I was quivering with anger and frustration. “Some of her symptoms are strange,” I argued. “Are you certain it wasn’t poison?”
    “Now, see here. You may have assisted your late husband with his dissections and experiments.” He nearly spat the words. “But you do not have a medical degree. Furthermore, you’re just a woman. One with a rather tarnished reputation.” He scoffed. “As if you have any right to question my findings.”
    I clenched my hands, wanting more than anything to plant the man a facer, but it was far more important that we find the truth for Lady Drummond.
    “But don’t you want to be certain? We should send for Sergeant Maclean with the Edinburgh City Police . . .”
    “We are
not
sending for the police,” Lord Drummond declared in his booming voice as he strode into the room. His eyes seemed to skim over the sight of his wife’s body, barely giving her notice.