Free The Anatomist's Wife by Anna Lee Huber Page A

highly doubted Lord Westlock had confessed
     to bashing me over the head to my sister.
    “He shouldn’t have told you,” I snapped, angry that my sister now had something else
     to fret about.
    “Of course he should have,” she protested, her own considerable temper sparking. “You
     should have awakened me last night and sent for the physician. You could have been
     seriously injured.”
    “I’m fine,” I reiterated sharply. “Waking you would have served no purpose beyond
     robbing you of sleep. Mr. Gage made certain the wound was not severe. Besides, you
     know the village physician is useless. He probably would have tried to bleed me.”
    “You still should have woken me.” Alana shifted higher on the bed. Her bright blue
     eyes had darkened almost to violet against the deep purple of her gown. I suspected
     she had chosen the gown because it would be fitting for a state of half mourning.
     Lady Godwin was not a relative or royalty, but given the terrible circumstances of
     her death, and at my sister’s residence of all places, Alana likely felt she should
     dress in half mourning out of respect for the deceased. I knew I would be expected
     to follow suit.
    Which reminded me how much easier it was to allow my sister to believe she’d gotten
     her way, whether or not that was true. If I were ever bashed over the head in the
     middle of the night again, I still didn’t plan on waking her, but she didn’t need
     to know that.
    I crossed my arms over my chest and glanced at the table next to my bed. “Have you
     brought me something to eat?” My stomach gurgled and asserted itself, reminding me
     how I had cast up my accounts all over the floor of the cellar while Mr. Gage looked
     on. I felt a blush heat my cheeks at the memory.
    Alana picked up the tray and settled it over my lap. I could smell the chocolate even
     before I lifted the lid of the pot. It was accompanied by toast and a crock of sweet
     strawberry jam, my normal morning repast. I quickly slathered the bread with jam and
     took a bite.
    My sister watched me with a small smile curling her lips. She waited until I had swallowed
     several bites before saying anything else. “I’m grateful to Mr. Gage for taking care
     of you,” she said, smoothing out a wrinkle on the skirt of her gown.
    I hesitated in taking my next bite, waiting for her to elaborate, for I knew she had
     more to say.
    Her gaze lifted to meet mine. “We’ve underestimated him, haven’t we?”
    I studied the deep red of the strawberry preserves. “Perhaps,” I replied with a shrug.
     Popping the last bite of the first piece of toast into my mouth, I poured the warm
     chocolate into my cup to avoid my sister’s eyes. I still held my doubts about Gage’s
     motives, but I didn’t feel it necessary to share them with Alana.
    “Philip is acquainted with him, you know.”
    I looked up at her in question.
    “Apparently, they attended school together. They were in the same class at Cambridge.
     Though Philip says for the first year and a half Mr. Gage had special permission to
     live off university grounds.”
    I was instantly curious as to why, but I kept my interest to myself. “Is that how
     he came to be invited to your house party?”
    Alana shook her head. “No, Mrs. Cline asked me to include him on the guest list.”
    I wanted to roll my eyes, and just barely resisted, taking another drink of my rich
     chocolate. “So Philip didn’t ask Mr. Gage to conduct an investigation just on the
     basis of his father’s reputation. He actually knows Mr. Gage.”
    “And seems to trust him.” She pressed her lips together and watched me take another
     sip. “Kiera, if Philip trusts him, then I think perhaps we should as well.”
    I lowered my cup slowly and nodded. It did speak in Gage’s favor that my brother-in-law
     had confidence in him. However, I still reserved my judgment. People changed, often
     for the worse. Just because Gage had been a good man a decade or