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the stench
     of perforated bowel I had smelled upon entering the cellar and quickly reached out
     to undo the sash.
    Knowing what I would find, I didn’t even flinch when I peered through the gap in the
     gown. Lady Godwin had been sliced open with two incisions forming a
T
over her lower abdomen.
    “My God,” Gage cried, raising his arm to bury his nose in his sleeve.
    “I don’t think He had anything to do with this,” I murmured, moving closer to peer
     at something that had caught my eye.
    “You’re certainly right about that. But I don’t understand why the killer made these
     two cuts?” he puzzled, looking over my shoulder at what I was doing. “As you said,
     the neck wound alone would have killed her. Was this just another way of taking out
     his anger? Did he want to disfigure her womanhood in some way?”
    I slammed a hand down on the table beside the corpse to steady myself as my churning
     stomach lurched violently. I could feel Gage’s eyes on my face as my cheeks drained
     of their last vestiges of color.
    “I . . . I think she was with child.”

CHAPTER FOUR
    S omehow I managed to spin away from Lady Godwin’s corpse before I emptied the contents
     of my stomach all over the cellar floor. With my hands held out in front of me still
     coated in her blood, I retched. I couldn’t stop imagining that poor baby’s fate—her
     life so viciously ended. The viscountess could not have been more than five months
     along. The still-small swell of her belly had been easily kept hidden by the flounces
     of her gown. I now understood her strange deviation from the fashions with fitted
     waists and belts the other lady guests wore.
    Gage knelt down to support me, lacing his arm underneath mine to cup my shoulder.
     I panted, still shaking from the force of my stomach contractions. A handkerchief
     came around from behind me, and I allowed him to wipe my mouth and chin. It didn’t
     even occur to me to feel embarrassed, for I was too overwhelmed by Lady Godwin’s wounds.
    “Blow,” he ordered, refolding the cloth and pressing it to my nose.
    I did as I was told, leaning back into the warmth his body radiated behind me. I closed
     my eyes as he removed the handkerchief. Taking deep breaths through my mouth, I remained
     in Gage’s loose embrace until I felt my muscles steadying. He cupped my elbow to help
     me rise, and I immediately felt the loss of his comforting hold and heat.
    The cellar seemed much cooler than when we arrived, and my knees were quivering from
     kneeling over. I realized I was not as in control of myself as I thought. There was
     nothing more I could do here tonight. I needed to clean up and get out while I could
     still walk on my own two feet.
    I swallowed the acid coating my mouth and throat, and stepped back toward Lady Godwin’s
     corpse. “I think that’s all we’re going to discover tonight,” I told Gage. My voice
     was rough and gravelly from my illness.
    “Of course,” he replied, helping me place the sheet back over the body. “Wash the
     blood off your hands. The rest can be cleaned up later.”
    I didn’t argue. The quicker I was away from Lady Godwin’s corpse, the better. Besides,
     I doubted the addition of vomit to the other stomach-churning stenches in the room
     would make much of a difference.
    Yanking the ruined gloves off my fingers, I plunged my arms into the bucket of cold
     water and scrubbed frantically at the red that had seeped through the worn fabric.
     Gage handed me a towel to dry my hands while he tugged at the ties of my apron. He
     clearly understood my hurry. Tossing the apron over my implement bag, I picked up
     my shawl and headed toward the stairs.
    The chapel above felt like London in July compared to the icy cold of the cellar.
     I made it midway through the sanctuary before collapsing onto the solid wood of a
     pew. Gage joined me a moment later.
    We sat quietly, listening to the winds off the bay rattle the windows, the only