She blinked. “Peter.”
“Yes.” He wrapped an arm around her and drew her against him, felt the tremulous intake of breath that vibrated through her. A miserable sound followed and then she buried her face against his shoulder and started to sob.
Unsure of what to do besides offer whatever comfort he could, Peter held her until the worst of it passed. When her shoulders no longer shook, he reached for the oil lamp and turned up the light.
The sight that greeted him left his throat dry. There was so much blood. It was everywhere. Especially on the dead woman’s torso.
Sensing Gabriella shifting against him, Peter used the hand against her cheek to hold her in place and keep her from turning. “Don’t look. Just wrap your arms around my neck and I’ll get you out of here.”
She did as he said, allowing him to scoop her into his arms and carry her into the foyer. Lewis must have lit the wall sconces there before heading upstairs, for the space was well lit now despite Peter having removed the lantern.
He set Gabriella on the steps and eased back a little without fully releasing her. She too was covered in blood. The sight turned his stomach. “Are you hurt?”
She answered with a dazed look. “Hmm?”
His gaze swept every part of her body, searching for wounds. Finding none, he reached for the item she held between her hands. A pair of scissors, he realized.
When he tried to take them from her, however, she clutched them more tightly against her, as though they were a lifeline without which she’d perish. Again, she started shaking. Fresh tears spilled from her eyes. “I killed her, didn’t I?”
He stroked his hand over her head. “Shhh…”
“I’m a murderess.” Her gaze snapped to his and turned unnervingly sharp. “I’ll face charges for this. Oh God. I’m going to hang.”
She spoke as if in a trance, as if her mind was not fully present. It broke his heart to see her like this, and it made something fierce awaken within him.
“No,” he assured her. “You were defending yourself.”
“So was Croft, was he not? When he shot Benjamin Lawrence?”
“Yes, but he—”
“I killed her.” She stared at him, her expression so horribly blank. And then she blinked, began shaking her head. “No. No it’s more than that. You’ll see. Oh God. You’ll see and you’ll…you’ll… It’s impossible for us. I made it impossible for us and now it’s too late and I can’t… I just can’t…”
“Listen to me,” he told her, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Everything will be all right. I’ll make sure of it.”
“I don’t think you can,” she muttered.
He would do whatever had to be done to protect her. And to figure out what that would be, he had to assess both crime scenes. “Would you like to sit in the carriage while I work, or do you prefer to wait here?”
“I’ll wait here.”
Peter eased away from her and offered a smile that he hoped would provide reassurance. Taking her hand, he gave it a squeeze then called for Lewis to join them.
“Can you please sit with Miss Hastings while I investigate?” Peter asked the Runner.
“Certainly,” Lewis replied. “Would be a pleasure.”
Peter stood and waited a second to make sure Gabriella would not fall apart the second he left. When he saw that she’d be all right for now, he picked up the lantern and returned to the parlor.
Once inside, he took a deep breath, expelled it, and scrubbed his face with his palm. Right. Time to get on with the business at hand.
He directed his gaze toward the body that lay on the floor. The legs were twisted sideways, the face slightly averted. Swallowing, he banked his emotions and crossed the floor.
The light from the lantern fell on the woman’s face and Peter immediately froze in horror. Not because of the glassy eyes staring back at him as if in surprise, or because her lips, parted in death, were partially painted with blood.
No. It was because he recognized her. He’d seen this woman before. This was the maid Mrs. Croft had alerted him to after Orwell’s murder. Miss Sally Jones, if memory served. He’d spoken to her for at least ten minutes. Only to dismiss her as inconsequential.
Christ have mercy, she’d been within his grasp and he’d let her go.
