Oliver was so rarely caught off guard that he momentarily lost his objectivity. He placed his hand against the cloth and felt her flingers slip from beneath his. He took close note of her face; she was extremely pale. As she dropped her arm, she flinched in pain and put her hand to her shoulder.
“I knew you landed hard,” he murmured and wiped firmly at his jaw before dropping the handkerchief and gently probing her shoulder. “I am sorry. There was so little time. I tried to take most of the hit, but—”
“Don’t be silly. You saved my life.” She bit the inside of her lip, which he was coming to recognize as one of her nervous habits. She tilted her chin up, though, and put on a brave face. “Dare I hope that was an accident?”
“I do not know.”
“Do not ever shield me from the truth. I would have your word that you will always inform me when you learn something that concerns me.” She paused. “Please.”
“My primary objective is to keep you safe. As such, there may be instances where judgment must be mine to make.”
Her jaw tightened. “Will you compromise?”
“Not as it concerns your safety.”
She shook her head impatiently. “No. I mean, will you reach an agreement with me? If you will be honest, forthcoming at all times regardless of circumstance, I will follow your directive without question.”
One of the constables cleared his throat, and Emme held up a finger at him while still looking at Oliver. “I cannot bear remaining in the dark, Detective. Ignorance is the worst vulnerability of all.”
He nodded. “You have my word.”
Relief flickered in her eyes. “Thank you.”
“Sir?”
“Yes, Constable.” Oliver shifted his weight and looked down at himself, realizing Emme’s leg was bent at the knee and sprawled over one of his, which was extended. He raised a brow, glad there were few people about.
“Emme!” The cry carrying down the street pulled his attention, and he turned to see Sam and his wife, Hazel, running toward them.
“Oh, dear.” Emme sighed and moved, kicking Oliver in the process and offering a mumbled, “Apologies,” before shoving herself upright.
Oliver also stood, dusting his clothing, his actions and occasional grunt of discomfort mirroring Emme’s.
“Well, we are a sight, aren’t we,” she muttered. She pulled at the side of her coat and twisted around, trying ineffectually to wipe dirt from her back.
Oliver awkwardly brushed her shoulder, dropping his hand when she subtly winced. Instead, he took stock of his own clothing, noting a small tear near the jacket hem. He removed his coat and shook it as Hazel skidded to a stop next to them, grasping Emme’s shoulders.
“Eugene said you were nearly run down by a carriage!” Hazel held Emme at arm’s length and looked her up and down. “He witnessed the whole incident from the front window!”
Emme’s face brightened, and Oliver watched her transform into the devil-may-care woman he so often encountered in times of trouble. She rolled her eyes and, with a small laugh, hugged her friend. “I am completely fine, as you can see. It was an odd accident and nothing more.”
She met Oliver’s gaze over Hazel’s shoulder and widened her eyes at him with a subtle shake of her head. Her attention flitted briefly to Sam, and then she pulled back from Hazel with another smile.
“Accident?” Sam murmured to Oliver. “And why are you here?”
One of the constables handed Oliver his notebook and pencil, which had gone flying in the chaos. He pocketed them as he regarded Sam. “Protective detail.”
Sam pursed his lips and nodded. “So, not an accident.”
Emme interrupted, motioning to Oliver’s face. “Dr. MacInnes, perhaps you’ll offer your professional opinion regarding the detective’s wound. Will he require bandaging?” She looked at Oliver. “I’m happy to continue to Castles’ alone. I can meet you there later, if you’d like.” She brushed a hand over her coat again as the family carriage finally approached.
Oliver narrowed his eyes. Such a plan would fit beautifully with Emme’s clear preference to go about her day independently. Her acceptance of the situation was tenuous; he’d not be surprised to learn that a corner of her brain still believed her life wasn’t truly in danger.
“My face is fine,” he told her drily and wiped at his bloodied cheek again with the constable’s donated handkerchief.
Sam frowned and moved closer as if to take a look, but Oliver brushed his hand aside. He spied Emme’s notebook on the ground and retrieved it and her hat. “Your notes. We’d best be off in order to maintain your schedule for the day.” He motioned to the constables and quietly said, “One of you remain here. The other go around to these homes and talk to witnesses. Take down every detail, no matter how small.”
“Yes, sir.” The constables nodded.
By now, the ruckus had alerted the butler and two other servants from inside. Emme huffed out a breath. She shrugged out of her dirtied coat and handed it to the butler, saying, “Wouldn’t you know, the weather has warmed considerably! Barnesworth, please give the pelisse to my maid for immediate laundering.” A brisk gust of wind rushed over the group, nullifying her statement.
“Here.” Hazel removed her own light-colored coat and placed it around Emme’s shoulders.
“Nonsense, Hazel, I—”
Hazel’s lips firmed, and she looked in Emme’s eyes as she reached for Emme’s wrist and shoved it into the sleeve. “Something is amiss, but I’ll not insist on explanations now.”
Emme closed her mouth and obediently threaded her other arm through the other sleeve. Hazel straightened the collar and tucked a few stray curls back into Emme’s braid. “We’ll visit later, make no mistake.” She took Emme’s hat from Oliver and placed it carefully back on Emme’s head.
Oliver still held Emme’s notebook and pen, which he now handed to her. “Yes, we’ll chat later,” he told the MacInneses, who looked at them
