Page 23 of In the Midnight Hour

The murmurs in the room buzzed over Hypatia like a swarm of flies. Not bees, for she couldn’t feel the sting. But she would be prepared for that. For the most part, Pemberton Square’s residents preferred to let others live as they would. However, some found her position as a widow living independently in a large, fashionable house to be inappropriate. Lord Wetherby, who was glowering at her most judgmentally from the jurors’ bench, was one such person. He undoubtedly also found her friendship with Sir Radnor bordering on scandalous. Now, with the news that she’d inherited his wealth, the scandal would likely be realized.

At least in his mind and others like him.

Hypatia kept her focus straight ahead on Mr. Wadham. She’d been prepared for this disclosure—he’d warned her in quiet tones when he’d sat down beside her. He’d also apologized for any discomfort it might cause her.

She could live with discomfort. Accusation and blame, both of which she almost certainly faced, were far more concerning. As was a loss of standing. She enjoyed her current reputation and didn’t wish to start over somewhere else. She’d already had to reinvent herself once.

Mr. Sheffield looked over the assembly and cleared his throat loudly. The whispers faded, thankfully. He returned his attention to Mr. Wadham seated to his right. “Did Sir Radnor indicate why he was making Lady Cartwright his heir?”

“He was not specific but indicated he expected they would share some kind of future together,” the solicitor explained. “Lady Cartwright is not the sole heir, of course. About a quarter of his money is for the heir to the baronetcy, and Sir Radnor designated miscellaneous items to others.”

“What items were those?” Mr. Sheffield asked.

“A snuffbox for his valet, a necklace belonging to his mother to Miss Claverton.” Mr. Wadham glanced toward the woman seated with Jacob Claverton at the other end of the row.

Hypatia had met them both on several occasions when they’d called on Sir Radnor. Once, she’d happened to be walking with Quill in the square, and Sir Radnor had been out walking with them. Another time, she’d encountered them at Huxley’s. Usually, however, she saw them dining with Sir Radnor at the Pemberton Club.

The solicitor continued his list of the designated items. “A walking stick with a silver eagle at the head for Mr. Claverton. I should note that all three of those items, along with a pair of highly valuable—and desirable—illustrated manuscripts, are missing from the house at number twenty-four Pemberton Square. I was not able to find them when I completed the inventory.”

“How do you know these manuscripts are missing?” Mr. Sheffield asked.

“They are displayed on stands in a glass-fronted cabinet in Sir Radnor’s study,” Mr. Wadham replied. “When my clerk and I completed the inventory, we noticed the stands were empty, so I asked the butler what should have been there.”

“Thank you, Mr. Wadham,” Mr. Sheffield said. “I don’t have any further questions for you at this time. You may return to your seat.”

Mr. Wadham stood and moved to sit back down next to Hypatia. He murmured another apology.

“It’s quite all right,” she whispered back.

Mr. Sheffield looked directly at her, and she knew it was her turn. “Lady Cartwright, please come forward to give testimony.”

She stood and walked the few steps to the table where she placed her hand on the Bible and swore to tell the truth. Mr. Sheffield held the chair for her whilst she sat. She glanced up at him as he returned to his chair and thanked him.

The likeness between the coroner and Northwood was a little unsettling. Their eyes were the exact same color and shape. She glanced over at the viscount and saw that he was intently watching her. She quickly looked back to Mr. Sheffield.

There was a slight difference in the shape of their mouths—or the way they held them. She had the sense Northwood smiled more.

Mr. Sheffield gave her a kind smile that helped to ease her anxiety. “Thank you for being here, Lady Cartwright. Will you please explain the nature of your relationship with Sir Radnor?”

Hypatia had thought about what she would say, and this was a question she expected. She thought it best to give a detailed explanation. “We met not long after I moved to Pemberton Square a few years ago, but we did not become friends until about a year ago when we found we’d just read the same book. We planned to dine together to discuss it, and after that, we began to meet somewhat regularly.”

“It sounds as though you and Sir Radnor were good friends with a shared interest in books.” Mr. Sheffield’s tawny eyes were most distracting. Because they made her think of Northwood. “Did your relationship go beyond that?”

“No, it did not.”

“Sir Radnor was going to marry her.”

Hypatia’s heart missed a beat as whispers and gasps filled the room. She whipped her head toward the front row where the statement had come from. Who had said it?

“Mr. Usher, why do you say that?” Mr. Sheffield asked.

The valet? Hypatia stared at him. Why would he say that?

“Sir Radnor told me,” Usher answered simply. “He held her in great esteem and planned to make her his wife.”

Hypatia bristled. Was Sir Radnor’s intent to lure her upstairs where he would press himself upon her, at which time he would then propose marriage? The man needed lessons in wooing if that was his plan.

Mr. Sheffield looked toward her once more. “Lady Cartwright, were you aware of Sir Radnor’s desire to wed?”