lose the limited contents of my stomach as well, since I was already struggling. To his credit, he had not left the room but had turned his attention to the boots and other pieces of clothing we had removed from the body. Most of those items had been replaced in the canvas sack we’d found the corpse tucked inside of within the crypt so that my examination of the body would be less noticeable should Mr. Rodgers insist on viewing the corpse. Then we closed up the canvas as best we could before cleaning ourselves.
“Perhaps,” I hedged as I wrapped my arms around myself. The capped sleeves of my blue-green dress had been practical for this morning’s purposes, but they were not very warm.
Gage glanced at me in interest.
“The chest and abdomen showed the very beginnings of what I believe to be spider angiomas,” I replied hesitantly, having been uncertain whether to mention it since the markings were so faint, and I had only ever seen them once before on a body my late husband was dissecting. “Vascular lesions which form under the skin. And I was able to note on a few of the more intact fingers that his nails showed signs of clubbing—bulging out at the top rather than dipping in as on most people. Both are signs of a disease of the liver. Had I been able to examine the liver directly, I suspect I would have detected cirrhosis. Something that, according to the French physician Laennec, would not be uncommon to find in a person who was a heavy drinker. Was Helmswick?”
“I don’t know.” He drew me closer, rubbing his callused hands up and down my arms. “Some people hide it better than others.”
I took that to mean Helmswick wasn’t a notorious tippler, but perhaps Lady Helmswick would be able to tell us if he overindulged privately.
I dipped my head toward the boots. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“They’re Hobys.”
London’s most fashionable bootmaker, and as such, certainly the shop a man like the Earl of Helmswick would patronize.
“Were there any markings, as you suspected?”
His brow furrowed. “No.”
My shoulders sank.
“But that doesn’t mean they’re not pertinent. After all, Lord Edward seemed to recognize them.”
I glanced at the calfskin boots, and their distinctive stitched edge along the back of the calf. “I wonder if Lady Helmswick will recognize them as well.”
“We shall soon see.” His hands tightened around my upper arms. “Now, let’s get you out of here before your teeth begin to chatter.”
He picked up the boots, cradling them in the same hand as the burlap sack containing the habit, and then opened the door to peer out into the corridor beyond. Unfortunately, the wine cellar was tucked behind a blind corner in the far reaches of the servants’ quarters. No sooner had he ushered me out, before closing and locking the door, than the sound of footsteps could be heard advancing from the direction of the kitchens.
My eyes widened, and I glanced about me, curious how we would brazen this out should the person approaching prove to be unfriendly. Then I spied a narrow doorway at the far end of the corridor and scurried toward it, concealing myself on the other side of the stone frame. Once inside, I could tell that it was a servants’ staircase fashioned of bare stone. One that I hoped was not the intended destination of the owner of those footsteps, for in my current state I could not hope to outpace them.
I soon had my answer when Gage hailed, “Anderley, what news?”
I exhaled a sigh of relief and retraced my steps toward where both men were watching me.
“The procurator fiscal. He’s arrived,” he explained.
Gage removed his watch from his pocket. “And an hour sooner than I anticipated.”
Anderley’s lip curled upward at one corner. “From the looks of him, it would have been better had he taken that extra hour.”
Gage glanced at me. “His temper must be foul then.”
“As foul as he risks it being in front of the duke.” Anderley’s gaze flicked toward me. “His Grace is requesting that both of you join them in his study.”
“His Grace?” I asked pointedly.
A glint of humor flashed in his eyes. “Their Graces.”
I nodded. Then the duchess had informed the duke of our discussion, and of her request that Gage and I investigate. It appeared, at least for the moment, that he was indulging her. Or perhaps he shared her low opinion of this Mr. Rodgers.
Gage passed his valet the boots