poetry, but she noted there was also a full shelf of books written about him.
Pleased by her find, she set down her lamp on a nearby table and began gathering an armful of volumes.
So engrossed was she in her task that she didn’t hear the footsteps behind her.
When the blow came, she fell against the bookcase from the force of it. She grabbed the sturdily built shelf, which had been secured to the wall, to break her fall, but the pain soon had her knees buckling.
As the books fell to the ground, so did she.
* * *
Eversham made a concerted effort to concentrate on the investigation for the rest of the day, and not let himself get distracted by the memory of Lady Katherine Bascomb in his arms.
He had a job to do, and despite their easy rapport, he needed to focus. Lives were at stake. And given his current disillusionment toward the Yard, this case might be the last case he’d be working as a member of the Metropolitan Police Force.
She would be angry with him once he left for Crossmere in the morning without her, in any event.
So, he’d met with Constable Miller and once more gone over the inventory of the items that had been removed from Green’s secret closet. To his disappointment, there had been no sign of letters between Philbrick and Delia Hale. Nor had there been any indication where Philbrick’s wife had gone after his death in Italy.
This meant that the trip to Crossmere was more important than ever.
It was late when he returned to Thornfield, but to his surprise, the first few stories were aglow with light.
What the devil was going on?
He was greeted at the door not by Austen but by Valentine, who looked grim.
Eversham’s stomach dropped. Something had happened to Katherine.
“She’s all right,” Valentine said in a soothing tone. “She took a blow to the head, but she’s awake and—”
“Where is she?” he interrupted.
No sooner had the word “library” escaped the other man’s lips than Eversham was pushing past him and all but taking the stairs two at a time toward the second floor.
Not bothering to knock, he pushed his way into the room to find Katherine trying to stand up and Caro, despite her smaller stature, managing to keep her in a reclining position on the settee.
At the sound of the door, Miss Hardcastle turned and gave a sigh of relief. “Good, perhaps you can convince her to remain here until the doctor comes.”
“I’m perfectly able to stand on my own, Caro,” Katherine said in an aggrieved tone. “I have a headache, nothing more. And I wish to go to my rooms, where I can be comfortable.”
The sound of her voice, annoyed as it was, made Eversham close his eyes in relief.
When he’d seen Valentine’s face downstairs, he’d imagined the worst. And though Val had assured him that she was in no danger, he’d needed to lay eyes on her before he believed it.
Even so, when Caro stepped back, he took her place and, without saying a word, lifted Katherine into his arms.
“Oh!” She didn’t fight him, which told him in a way that her voice had not that she was indeed in pain.
“I’ll take her to her room, Miss Hardcastle,” he told Caro as he walked past her. “Please have the physician sent there.”
“I don’t need a doctor.” But the way she sagged against his chest said otherwise.
He carried her toward the door. “I’m sure you don’t. But why not see him for Caro and Valentine’s sakes? They’re concerned, I’m sure.”
That seemed to convince her.
“Very well, but, Caro, don’t forget my books.”
“I’ll bring them along in a little while,” Miss Hardcastle said from behind them.
Now that he was assured she hadn’t been permanently injured, Eversham asked, “What happened?”
“Not here,” she said in a low voice.
They passed the rest of the way to her bedchamber in silence, where they found her maid, Bess, waiting for her. The bed was turned down and a nightgown that made Eversham’s pulse quicken lay across it.
“I’ll leave you to undress,” he said once he’d gently deposited her on the counterpane.
“Do not go far,” she ordered. “I must speak to you tonight.”
If Bess thought it a scandal that her mistress had just asked a man who was not her husband to wait upon her at this late hour, while she was in a state of undress, she didn’t say so.
“Of course.” He was a policeman, he reminded himself. The girl very likely assumed, correctly, that