Although tempted to pull out one of the glass stoppers from the array of bottles and take a sniff, Joanna suppressed her urge and instead walked nearer the bookshelves to scan the titles. She promptly sighed. Economics, industry, and commerce had never held her interest, but by the amount of volumes standing neatly at attention, it was apparent Addison Kane felt differently.

In the far corner of the room was a fireplace similar in size and shape to the one in her room; however, instead of being constructed of cast iron, the surround was rock and the mantle, barren of even the smallest keepsake, consisted of a thick slab of wood. Frowning at the lack of any personal touches, Joanna decided to continue her self-guided tour. Noticing a door to the left of the hearth, she didn’t think twice about opening it. Finding herself in shadows, she felt around for the switch, and when the light came on, Joanna’s eyes grew wide.

Except for a fireplace in the corner and the windows hidden behind heavy curtains across the front wall, the rest of the spacious room was covered from floor to ceiling in bookcases. Complete with rolling ladders so the highest volume could be reached, the wooden cases were impressive, but Joanna’s smile faded when she realized only five shelves held any books. With a sigh, she pulled one from its resting place and instantly chuckled. “Why do I have the feeling this is somehow appropriate?” she muttered to herself, placing the copy of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein back on the shelf.

Kneeling, she tilted her head to read the rest of the titles and was surprised by the variety. While they were all classics, the writers went from one extreme to the other. Dickens and D. H. Lawrence stood in line with Sheridan Le Fanu and Bram Stoker. Robert Louis Stevenson, H. G. Wells, and the complete works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle filled another shelf, and stories by the Bronte sisters, Jane Austen, Oscar Wilde, and Virginia Woolf were crammed into the next. It was virtually the who’s who of British writers, and as she debated which would be the first she’d read again, her eyes wandered. Seeing a few other books on a bottom shelf a few feet away, Joanna crawled over and pulled one out, practically dropping it when the cover came into view. Displayed in all their glossy glory were two nude women passionately embracing. Quickly placing the book back from where it came, Joanna squeezed her eyes closed and tried to force the image from her mind.

“I’m afraid the classics are all we have right now,” Evelyn said as she came into the room and then she realized where Joanna was kneeling. “I’m not sure those books will interest you.”

Joanna immediately blushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”