“I am in the pink,” she grumbled.
“Do not believe her, Hastings. She received a bad blow to the head and has not been right ever since.”
“Not right? Well, I never!” Gory tossed him an indignant scowl, but then relented and cast him an impertinent grin. “That is very cruel of you, Julius.”
“Do not chide me, you stubborn chit. Despite your claims, I know what you have been through and cannot believe you are so quickly healed. It is not possible and I am worried about you.” He tucked her cloak – another item borrowed from Adela’s wardrobe – more firmly around her slender shoulders and made certain the scarf he had also insisted she wear was suitably protecting her throat.
He knew he was being a mother hen, but who was to watch over the girl if not him?
“It is not winter yet,” she muttered when he had finished bundling her up.
“You almost froze to death last night. Your body is still recovering from that blow to your head that knocked you out cold.” He helped her into the carriage, still amazed she could do more than lift her head off his pillow.
But here she was, dressed and walking.
His heart tugged as he settled opposite her and had an unimpeded view of her lovely face. She had the most intelligent eyes that always seemed to shimmer.
He could have sworn they were sprinkled with starlight.
Of course, they were not shimmering for love of him…something she did not remember them discussing. No, they were bright and shining because the two of them were headed to the morgue to view her uncle’s body and this had Gory elated.
He sighed.
Life with her was never going to be dull.
Of course, this assumed she would marry him and not Allendale.
Blast.
He could never allow her to marry that clot.
Allendale’s absence was glaring, and this was an obvious warning sign that Gory could not overlook.
Julius allowed Gory to take the lead once they reached the morgue. However, he remained by her side all the while she examined her uncle’s body and was impressed by how methodically she went about studying the wounds to his chest and then closely inspecting his hands and throat.
When she was done, she looked up at Julius, her expression grim.
“What have you noticed?” he asked.
“He fought off his assailant. See the broken nail on his third finger? And the traces of skin and blood beneath the other nails? He scratched his assailant. And do you see the bruising around his neck? He was held by the throat. That is why I did not hear him cry for help as he was attacked. He was being strangled. That would have taken an assailant of significant strength.”
“Are you sure you did not hear him cry out? Something drew you downstairs,” Julius reminded her.
“An argument, I’m sure…I think. Oh,” she said, nibbling her lip. “Perhaps I did hear him cry out. Oh, Julius. I simply cannot recall.”
“Anything else of note?” He really did not wish to remain in the morgue a moment longer than was necessary. The room reeked of embalming fluids, for starters. It was also cold and quite bleek.
“The condition of his body would have me rule out a woman as the killer.”
“But it is likely there was a female accomplice, Gory.”
“Because I was changed out of the gown I wore to the musicale and put into my wedding gown?”
“Neatly put into it,” he reminded her.
“Is this what Havers is thinking, too? Or does he still consider me a suspect and believes you were my accomplice?”
Julius shrugged. “It is possible.”
