How dare he come here?
After everything she’d initially done to help him build a case against Adrian, this was how he repaid her? By asking Adrian’s butler if he might speak with her directly? As if her husband did not have enough cause already to kill her.
She dropped her gaze to the poker and almost regretted not having used it. Her life would be so much simpler without Kendrick constantly there to make demands and stir up trouble. He wasn’t even supposed to be pressing her for information any more. According to what Harlowe had told her, the chief magistrate wanted her to step back and let Adrian be until further notice.
So what the hell was Kendrick doing?
Defying orders, it seemed.
She ought to report him. Maybe she would for her own peace of mind. His visit had shaken her more than it should have. He’d caught her off guard, which was utterly unacceptable. Nothing ought to surprise her. It was her job to be fully prepared for all eventualities. Yet it seemed she’d been off her game since Adrian came along and muddled her brain.
Damned nuisance.
A few months ago he’d been a mission she carried out with detached focus. But that had since changed. She’d allowed the pretense to become real and had fallen for him harder than she would admit even now.
A mess, though one she was determined to work her way through. The fact that he hadn’t shipped her off to some remote island somewhere when he’d found outabout her involvement with Kendrick gave her hope even though having his butler know about Kendrick’s visit today made her wary.
Adrian would only think the worst when he learned about it, which meant that salvaging their marriage had just become so much harder.
It was a challenge for Adrian to look at Lady Eleanor’s body without thinking of Evie. So many aspects reminded him of his previous visit to this awful place, from the hollow sound of footsteps echoing through the halls as he’d walked toward this room with Orendel to the stench of death that hung in the air.
An estimated thirty-six hours had passed since Lady Eleanor had been killed, and her corpse was not the only one present. Two others filled nearby tables and though they were covered by sheets, blood stains suggested they’d been cut open for examination.
This was not true of Lady Eleanor. Her body remained intact, though brutalized in ways that made even him – a man who wasn’t a stranger to death or torture – want to avert his gaze. It was no wonder that Orendel hadn’t accompanied him all the way, deciding at the last moment to wait outside while Adrian went to greet Doctor Fellowes, the coroner.
A steady beat drummed through Adrian’s chest, a point upon which to focus so he could gather his thoughts and distance himself from reality. Keenobservation separated from all emotion was what he required.
He took a breath, expelled it, and surrendered himself to the impartial study of Lady Eleanor’s body.
Bruises encircled her neck, the coloring dark, an almost purplish black. Countless stab wounds had been delivered to her, and most horrific of all, her eyes had been cut out, like pits scooped from a pair of peaches.
Adrian raised her limp hand to better study her fingers and nails. No cuts were present there, but one of the nails appeared slightly chipped. He glanced at Doctor Fellowes and raised one eyebrow in question.
“I cleaned the nails earlier in the day and found fragments underneath several of them. Some skin and blood too and even one strand of hair.”
“May I see?”
The coroner brought him a small ceramic dish in which he’d placed his findings. Adrian pinched the strand of hair between his fingers and held it up so the light falling through the window could catch it.
Dark brown. A common color a few shades lighter than his own. He returned it to the dish. “Is it correct to surmise that she was strangled before she was stabbed?”
“That is the conclusion I have arrived at.”
“And do you believe she was fully dead by then?”
“Her windpipe was crushed.”
In other words, yes.
Adrian frowned, his attention returning to her empty eye sockets, the butchered flesh there a violent shade of red. “This was more than an act of hate.”
It had been personal. Whoever had done this had wanted to keep a memoire. And her death alone had not been enough to satisfy his rage. He’d needed to stab her repeatedly after.
Another unpleasant thought entered his head. It was the same as the one he’d had about Evie – the sort that arose only when one was dealing with beasts rather than humans. “Do you know if she was violated?”
“It doesn’t appear to be the case.”
Adrian expelled a breath and gave the doctor his thanks before reconvening with Orendel. “I’ll need a list of your daughter’s contacts – everyone she was acquainted with and her relationship with them. I’ve a notebook you can use when we return to the carriage.”
