Never Tempt a Scot by Lauren Smith Page 0,74

later, their steps were close and the smell of their unwashed bodies filled her nose. Lydia stuck out a foot, and the man nearest her fell flat on his face. He grunted, and the other man tripped over him, landing on top. The two men started to fight, each snarling and hitting each other as they blamed the other for what had happened.

Lydia, still flattened against the wall, slid step by careful step down past them. She wanted to run, but if she did they would hear her.

“Oy, you smell that?” one of them growled. “Bleeding roses . . .”

“Maybe it was the woman.”

“No, she didn’t smell nice. She smelled dead.”

Suddenly everything was dangerously quiet. Lydia halted, afraid to move. They were listening for her.

After an eternity, the two men moved again.

“Go back and fix the body in the trunk,” one of them said.

Lydia sighed in quiet relief and started to move again. And that’s when she was tackled to the ground.

“Gotcha!” one of them grunted in triumph as he crushed her beneath him. “Bring the light!”

A candle was brought around and held up to her face.

“Well now, what a pretty pigeon,” the man holding her said with a chuckle. “Seen something ye shouldna, eh?” He nodded to Burke, and before she could scream, something struck the back of her head.

16

When Lydia came to, she lay on the floor of a wagon next to a large trunk. A heavy burlap covering lay over her body, almost smothering her. Her first instinct was to rip the covering off her face, but then she remembered the little girl, the woman in the trunk, and the two men who had attacked her. The wagon rolled to a stop. Burke and Hare’s voices were muffled, yet she could still hear what they were saying.

“We’ll have to go back for the child after we drop off these two.” Hands grasped the burlap above her head, and Lydia went still as the covering was flung back.

“Get the trunk first.” The trunk was dragged off the wagon, and the two men carried it toward a building nearby. She started to sit up, but then she heard voices as the men returned, so she lay limp again. Her heart was pounding so hard she couldn’t imagine how the men didn’t hear it.

“Doc says seven pounds for the first and another seven for this one.”

Rough hands lifted her up and carried her toward the building. She tried to hold her breath again as she was set down on top of a table.

“Here’s the other one, Doc.”

A new voice replied to that announcement, one more cultured than either Burke or Hare.

“Well now, that is a beauty. And still flushed with her recent passing. See the blood still rosy beneath the skin? Quite lovely.” The heat of a candle’s flame near her face almost made her flinch.

“How did this one pass away? Do you know?”

“Er . . . a fall . . . Aye, that’s right. She tripped and fell down the stairs,” Burke said quickly.

“Really?” The doctor didn’t sound convinced. “If that were the case, she would have bruises. Is that a bump on her temple?” The doctor suddenly was touching her, his cold hands methodically exploring her head and arms before he lifted her skirt to her knees to examine her legs. It took all of her resolve for Lydia not to move or make a sound, lest she betray she was alive to these men, who clearly would kill her.

“It only just happened, Doc,” Hare added.

There was a moment of silence, and then the doctor sighed.

“Very well. You know I never like to inquire where you find the bodies. I daresay my students will enjoy watching the dissections of these women tomorrow. Pretty bodies make it far more interesting, and this one is especially lovely. I might have to have my friend come and sketch her body the way I did that poor prostitute.”

Burke chuckled. “That one was pretty.”

“Here. Take your payment and be gone. I don’t want anyone to see you or your wagon here if we can help it.”

The sound of jingling coins and a chuckle from Hare and Burke was followed by their fading footsteps.

“Now my dears, it’s just us three,” the doctor said. Another wave of panic threatened to make her gasp for breath. She listened to him moving around nearby. At one point, cloth brushed against her bare arm, and she almost jerked away out of instinct. She strained to listen to every

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