twist. “I promise,” she said, touching him on the arm.
“Good.” He kissed her again. “Now, I’d better go before Valentine comes looking for me.”
She stood staring after him for a moment, his warning ringing in her ears, her head still a little fuzzy from earlier.
She had been telling him the truth, hadn’t she? She’d lost her balance. That was all. It certainly hadn’t been that the idea of Eversham having a wife had stricken her to the core.
Had it?
And now a suspected murderer had singled her out for attention.
One thing she could say for keeping company with an inspector.
It was never dull.
* * *
Rather than take the carriage, Eversham and Valentine decided to walk into the village. After spending the day mostly on the train—and given the news that their suspects had deliberately sought both him and Katherine out for their attentions—Eversham badly needed to expend some energy.
“I was ready to finish what I started with you yesterday,” the other man told him candidly as they set out. “That’s why I asked Kate to go to Caro. I didn’t want her there when I beat you into a bloody pulp.”
Eversham had guessed as much, but he could hardly say so in front of Katherine. Still. “I’d like to see you try it, Thorn. The first punch was a gift from me to you because I felt I’d earned it. Anything after that would have prompted me to defend myself.”
He was hardly a small man. He outweighed the lordling by a stone and was taller by a few inches. He’d also learned how to defend himself on the streets of London, where criminals didn’t play by the sporting rules Valentine set such store by.
“I was highly motivated,” Valentine said baldly. “As soon as Austen brought word to me what had happened, I was ready to take the carriage to Crossmere to find you then and there. It was only Caro pointing out that Kate would have my guts for garters that I decided against it.”
“She knows her friend well.” Eversham laughed. One of the things he most appreciated about Katherine was her refusal to sit back and meekly let people ride roughshod over her. If she had a quarrel with someone, she’d let them know it. No games or hidden machinations for her. Only plain speaking and home truths.
This realization prompted him to change the subject. “Tell me about Bascomb.”
She’d mentioned her marriage but never told him about it in more detail. And he had a feeling her fears about marrying him had their roots in what had happened before.
He wasn’t so vain as to think himself irresistible. He knew damned well that while he was a decent man, he was a poor catch for a woman who could still have her pick from among the most eligible bachelors of London society.
But there was a genuine connection between them. And it wasn’t just physical—though that was nothing to ignore. He’d never experienced the kind of kinship of spirit he had with her. She shared his same inquisitive nature and a determination to learn the truth, though she often went about finding her answers in a different way.
They made a good team and he was, against all odds, in love with her.
So he needed to know just what it was about her late husband that prevented her from accepting his proposal.
And if she wasn’t going to tell him herself, he’d have to ask the man who’d been there to see it firsthand.
“Why do you want to know?” Valentine’s eyes were narrowed with suspicion.
Eversham was famous for his patience when interrogating suspects, but when his future was on the line, he completely lost his aplomb. “Why do you think, man? I’m in love with her, and I want to know what he did to her.” He ran a hand over the back of his neck.
“That was fast.” Valentine glanced sideways. “Have you told her?”
Eversham was silent.
Val gave a short laugh. “Turned you down, did she?”
Eversham let out an aggrieved sigh. “Are you going to tell me or not? If not, then perhaps we can just continue our walk in silence.”
“Do not fly up into the boughs, old fellow,” Valentine said mildly. “I’m just giving you some difficulty in retaliation for the hours I spent today plotting your untimely demise.”
“I’m not married,” Eversham said through his teeth. “And attempted murder is a crime. I’m still with the Yard, you know.”
“You can’t arrest me,” his companion said easily. “You need to get back into Kate’s