“Oh, aye, Yer Grace. Dr. Thornton said ye’d be coming, and ter bring ye right up ter his study.”
Munroe waved off the maid. “I know the way. Continue with your duties, Jenny.”
The maid smiled, knees buckling in another curtsy. “Aye, Dr. Munroe,” she said before scampering away.
Munroe glanced at them briefly as he led them to the staircase at the end of the hall. “Most members open their homes to host the Metamorphosis Club,” he explained.
“I would enjoy attending one of your salons, if it’s permitted, Dr. Munroe,” the Duke said as they climbed the stairs. “Your discussions are, I’m certain, most fascinating.”
“You would be welcome as my guest, Your Grace,” Munroe said, and smiled. “During our last meeting, Mr. Dandridge introduced us to a new invention that you would find interesting. ’Tis an instrument that allows a physician to listen to the heart without having to press one’s ear against the chest.”
“A stethoscope,” Kendra said automatically, even as she thought:Holy shit, I live in a world where the stethoscope is a new invention.
Munroe glanced at her in surprise when they reached the landing. “Yes, my lady. A stethoscope. Or, at least, that is what some physicians have begun calling it.René Théophile Hyacinthe Laënnec is the physician who designed the device, and he prefers the nameLe Cylindre. Though Laënnec’s invention is only a few months old, and has not yet been widely used outside of France.”
Damn, damn, and double damn.It was the little details that always tripped up criminals—and, apparently, time travelers.
Thankfully, the Duke rescued her. “Her ladyship enjoys reading the medical journals I subscribe to,” he said smoothly. “I believe there was a small article aboutLe Cylindrein one of them.”
Munroe gave Kendra an admiring look. “If you have an interest in medical advancements, my lady, perhaps you would like to attend our meetings, as well.”
An evening where she’d have to pretend surprise over tools and techniques that were outdated in her era?Oh, joy.
“Sounds interesting,” she murmured politely, earning a knowing smile from Alec.
The anatomist led them down the hall to an open door. A quick inspection revealed a study clearly used by someone in the medical field. Shelves were crammed with books and scientific equipment, including microscopes, a couple of Leyden jars, and a black doctor’s medical bag. No stethoscope that Kendra could see, but she also wasn’t entirely sure what that would look like in this era. A desk sat in front of the window overlooking the street and a large oval table with at least a dozen chairs stood in the center of the room, below a chandelier. Both the desk and the table were strewn with newspapers, foolscap, and more books.
Kendra’s eyes cut to a short, rotund man standing in front of the fireplace, sipping a glass of whisky. Early sixties, she estimated. He’d compensated for his balding pate by sporting bushy, gray mutton-chop side-whiskers. He was not contemplating the flames that were currently devouring the logs in the hearth. Rather, his gaze was fixed on a painting of a young blonde woman hanging above the carved mantle. His expression was one of intense sorrow.
Upon their entrance, he turned and summoned a smile that didn’t quite dispel the sadness in his eyes. “Ethan! Good afternoon,” he said. Kendra noticed the slight tremor in his hand as he set his glass on his desk. “Mr. Kelly gave me your message.”
“Thank you for taking the time to receive us. This is the Duke of Aldridge, and Lord and Lady Sutcliffe. Your Grace, my lady, my lord, may I introduce Dr. Lucien Thornton.”
“Your servant.” Thornton bowed. “May I offer you refreshments? I shall summon Jenny to bring tea—”
“Thank you, no,” the Duke said quickly. “We don’t want to put you out any more than is necessary. We’ve come about Lady Westford.”
“Yes, Ethan said as much in his message.” Thornton licked his lips, his gaze darting between them. “I don’t understand what you want with me. Were you acquainted with her, Your Grace?”
“A little. But I prefer country life over the city, so I didn’t know her as well as I would have liked. Now, it’s too late.”
Kendra added, “You did the postmortem.”
Something flickered in Dr. Thornton’s eyes before they went carefully blank. “Yes.”
Kendra kept her gaze on his. “You ruled the death an accident. I am going to ask you a question, and I would like you to think carefully before you answer: Was your ruling truthful?”
She saw the shock whip over his face as his eyes widened. “What are you suggesting? That . . . that I wouldlieabout it? Why would I do such a thing?”
“Because you were being considerate of the family,” Munroe said carefully. “If Lord Westford feared that his wife may have killed herself, he may have asked you to issue a different verdict.”
“You must admit that it is very strange for her ladyship to have had such a mishap in an empty theater,” the Duke added gently.
Thornton pursed his lips and dropped his gaze to the cluttered table. For a moment, no one spoke. Kendra was aware of the street noises, the crackle of fire in the hearth, the tick-tick-tick of the pendulum as it swung side-to-side in the large grandfather clock in the corner of the room. She was beginning to wonder if he would ever speak when he let out a heavy sigh and raised his eyes to meet the Duke’s steady regard.
“I cannot speak to the lady’s state of mind, Your Grace. But I know she visited that very theater the day before her mishap.”
“She was at Bowden Theater on Saturday?” Kendra’s tone was sharp enough to bring Thornton’s eyes back to her. “How do you know?”
