“I don’t know, my Lord.” The footman shook his head, his face white. “There was a lot of blood. The maids are cleaning it now. I just hope that he’s going to be all right.”
It did not make any sense whatsoever. Why would someone walk into his study and hit the butler?
Unless they were doing so simply to have unbound access to my things.
His eyes closed.
“Was anything taken?”
The footman looked blankly back at him until Henry was forced to repeat the question, only for the man to nod.
“That is to say, I am not sure what was taken, my Lord, only that something must have been, given the state of the room.”
“The state of the room?” Henry repeated, as the footman nodded fervently. “I do not understand.”
The footman looked down the hallway, one hand out towards it.
“Might you go and see for yourself, my Lord. Your eyes will do a better job than any of my attempts at explaining.”
Henry nodded and stepped away, leaving the footman to take his hat and gloves to their usual place. With a heart beginning to beat furiously in his chest, he began to make his way to the study, only for a familiar voice to call his name.
“Yarmouth? What has happened here? I saw the physician arriving and thought –”
“Falconer.” Henry closed his eyes and shook his head as his friend came in. “I am quite well. The physician did not come for me.”
“There is a small crowd outside,” Lord Falconer told him, settling one hand on Henry’s shoulder and peering into hisface as if to make quite certain that he was well. “What has happened?”
Turning back, Henry gestured to his study and began to walk again.
“My butler has been hit on the back of the head and left to linger in unconsciousness and pain. Blood is on the floor and the footman told me that it would be best if I saw the room for myself, rather than have him explain it.”
“Good gracious.” Falling into step with him, Lord Falconer came into the study with Henry, his eyes rounding in much the same way that Henry’s did. “Someone was looking for something.”
Henry let his eyes flicker across the room, never lingering on any one thing, but taking in the mess and the disarray without fear or hesitation. He wanted to see it all just as it was, to try to make sense of what had happened, but the shock was a little too great.
“Do you know what it could be?” Lord Falconer asked, leaning a little closer to Henry now, to avoid having all of Henry’s staff hear what he was saying. “What this person – whoever it was – was searching for?”
Shaking his head, Henry let out a slow breath and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I cannot imagine. And the only person who can tell me who was present is the butler who is, at this very moment, is unconscious and being seen by the physician.”
Running one hand over his face, Henry let out a slow breath and tried to keep the panic from kicking back at him. Whoever had been in here, whoever had been rifling through his things, had been searching for something and Henry did not know whether they had managed to find it. In his mind’s eye, he suddenly saw a vision of Miss Bosworth – not because he blamed her in any way, but because Henry knew how much hevalued her companionship, her support, and her thoughts on something like this.
The ring.
Heaving in a breath, Henry tore across the room and attempted to drag open the drawer of his study desk. Much to his relief, it was still locked.
“They were not able to find what they were looking for because I had locked the desk drawer,” he explained, as Lord Falconer’s eyebrows lifted. “It must be the talisman ring.”
Lord Falconer let out a hiss of breath through his teeth.
“Do you think so?”
“What other explanation could there be?”
Pulling the key from his pocket, Henry unlocked the drawer and, opening it, lifted the ring from the small box in which it had been contained, and then held it high.
“You have it?”
