A study in scandal Read Online Free PDF Page B

and peered up toward the windows to check for signs of movement. None, but she thought she spied the reflection of a light. Surely he wouldn’t leave a lamp burning if he’d stepped out.
    She buzzed the door again. Twice for good measure. Not a moment later, she heard footsteps, and then muttering.
    The door flew open to reveal Inspector Brindley wearing tweed trousers and a shirt. No jacket. No vest. No tie. And his sleeves were rolled to his elbows revealing well-muscled forearms dustedwith dark curly hair. She resisted the urge to fan herself.
    Heaven’s gate, he was handsome. She’d never seen a man, save her father, in only trousers and a shirt. It seemed so…intimate. Her cheeks burned.
    “What!” he said, then took a look at her and straightened. He brushed a hand across his hair. “I beg your pardon, Miss Watersfield, I didn’t realize it was you.”
    She smiled. “Obviously.”
    He raised his eyebrows and paused as if waiting for her to say more. “Yes, well, what can I do for you?”
    “I brought the list you requested.”
    “List?”
    She waited for him to remember his request, but when he did not, she offered, “The list of visitors.”
    “Ah, yes, the list of the people who’ve seen the antiquities. Many apologies, I’m afraid my mind is elsewhere this morning. You compiled the list quite quickly. Excellent.” He held his hand out to retrieve said list.
    He wouldn’t get rid of her that easily. “I thought we could go over it. So I might give you more details. Answer any questions you might have.”
    “My office isn’t exactly designed for entertaining, Miss Watersfield.”
    “This is a business meeting. It could hardly be construed as entertaining.”
    He took a moment to deliberate, then stepped aside and held the door for her. “It’s right up these stairs.”
    He led her up a half stairway and through a door on the left. His office was the very picture of masculinity, richly colored in dark hues with the smell of tobacco and ink hanging in the air.
    Precisely how she’d imagined Sherlock’s office. Chills skittered up her arms and prickled the hairs at her neck.
    “How perfect,” she said.
    “Pardon me?” he asked.
    She shook her head. “Nothing.” She certainly couldn’t admit the truth behind her comment.
    The room was large, and aside from the two windows, the walls were covered floor to ceiling with dark mahogany bookcases. Filled with books, no less. Leather-bound, and varying in size and color, they dominated the space.
    She held her breath for a moment in sheer awe. She had plenty of books at home, but they did not have as grand a display, as her father had taken over the bookshelves years ago to exhibit his antiquities.
    “Do you like books, Miss Watersfield?” he asked.
    “Yes.” She gave him a broad smile. “Very much.” She stepped closer to a shelf. Philosophy, science, nature. She ran two fingers down the length of one spine, reveling in the smooth feel of the leather. “You must have a book on every subject. Your collection is somewhat breathtaking.”
    “These are not only mine. My father was a collector for a while, but he left them with me when he moved to the country. The medical books are all his.”
    “Oh, yes, he’s a doctor. I had forgotten.” She shook her head. This needed to be about the case, about finding Nefertiti for her father’s sake. “I apologize for my distraction. That is certainly not why I’m here. Obviously my father’s situation is more pressing than your books. I was momentarily overcome, but I am feeling quite right now. My apologies.”
    He said nothing for a moment, simply stared at her—no discernible expression on his face. “Yes, well, let us take a look at that list of yours.” He motioned to the sitting area, where two wingback chairs sat facing the empty fireplace. On one of the chairs slept a large orange tabby cat curled into a ball. Colin gently picked up the animal, sat, then placed the feline on his