Page 29 of In the Midnight Hour

Brow creasing, the butler opened the door wider to accommodate North’s entry. “Wait here, please.”

“Thank you.” North stepped to the center of the entrance hall while the butler closed the door, then walked quickly into the staircase hall. The wide doorway between the two halls allowed North to watch the man ascend the stairs.

Lady Cartwright’s entrance hall was similar to Sir Radnor’s next door, with its checkered marble floor. However, the décor of the space was warmer, softer, more…welcoming. It was also incredibly elegant and fashionable, far more than Sir Radnor’s, with a beautifully modern Wedgwood palette. His house was that of an aging baronet with older furnishings and relics. Lady Cartwright was much younger, a vibrant lady with the taste and wealth to utterly impress.

Instead of waiting on one of the two gilt chairs set against the right wall, North peered into the room that faced the street. It was a sitting room that seemed to also function as a library given the number of bookcases. A beautiful Carlton House style writing table made of mahogany set against the wall near the window offered a view of the square when Lady Cartwright was seated there. The positioning had to be purposeful.

“My lord?”

North turned at the butler’s summons. He was disappointingly alone. “Yes?”

“Lady Cartwright asks that you wait in the library.” The butler gestured to the room North had just been surveying. “She’ll be down to see you shortly.”

Relief surged through him. “Thank you.” He made his way into the library and went to inspect the painted decoration on the drawers of the writing table more closely.

North only waited a few minutes before Lady Cartwright entered. Garbed in a simple but still stunning yellow morning dress, she looked pale and worried. Deep creases disrupted her usually smooth brow.

“You told my butler your arrival would be most welcome,” she said. “I can’t imagine why you would say such a thing. I scarcely know you.”

“Good morning.” North chose to ignore her irritation. He didn’t blame her for being aggravated by everything going on. He took a few steps toward her. “I saw that Drummond is here. What’s happening?”

She briefly pressed her lips together, her jaw clenching. “He has a search warrant from the Marlborough Street magistrate. He brought two constables, and they’re looking through my house for the items that are missing from Sir Radnor’s. I’m to stay out of their way.”

North frowned. “I was afraid he was doing just that.”

“Did you know because your brother told you?” Her tone held an accusatory note.

“No. In fact, he wouldn’t tell me much of anything. I called on him yesterday evening, and he refused to answer my questions.”

She scrutinized him a long moment. “You’re determined to stick your nose into this, aren’t you?”

“I explained myself yesterday, and my sentiments have not changed. In fact, after reading the newspapers this morning, I am more resolved than ever to ensure everyone knows you’re innocent. To that end, we must find Sir Radnor’s killer.”

Lady Cartwright blinked, moved to the window, and looked out over the square. “Did anyone else notice Mr. Drummond’s arrival?”

“I don’t know, but I didn’t see anyone about,” North replied, wondering why she hadn’t responded to his declaration that they must find the true murderer. “I did see Quill, however. He bolted from the front door and ran to the center garden.”

Turning from the window, she faced him. “He didn’t care for the commotion. The center garden is his sanctuary. He’ll come back when the coach is gone.”

“Clever cat.”

“Astonishingly so, yes.” She exhaled. “I’ll accept your help—cautiously. What do you propose?” She moved to perch on a Wedgwood blue cushioned armchair.

North was both relieved and pleased. He sat on the matching settee, positioning himself closest to her. “We must locate the items Drummond is currently searching for. If we find them, we identify the murderer. At least, that’s what I think.”

“I agree,” she replied. “I wondered if the murderer only planned to steal the walking stick used to kill Sir Radnor, then decided to take more to hide that the walking stick was a murder weapon. The killer might have positioned Sir Radnor and his chamber to look as if he’d fallen out of bed.”

“Who would want to kill him?” North sat forward slightly. “I considered someone in his household—Mrs. Babcock in particular because of her peevish demeanor—but the housekeeper indicated the servants would all need to find new positions. They seem to lack motive.”

“Unless the murdering servant also stole the items. He or she could sell them, and the profit would mean they wouldn’t need a new position.” Lady Cartwright’s expression took on a dubious cast. “I can’t imagine the thief would stay in the house and not run. Why even kill Sir Radnor at all? Why not steal the items and flee immediately?”

“All excellent points. If our theory is that the killer stole these items, I don’t think any of the servants are the murderer. Do you know if Sir Radnor had any enemies?”

She seemed to think for a moment then shook her head. “I don’t know that he had any.” She tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair briefly. “This probably doesn’t signify, but Sir Radnor was a zealous book collector and occasionally engaged in some rather heated battles for a coveted manuscript. He acquired Le Roman de la Rose in that way not too long ago. It’s one of the two manuscripts that’s missing.”

North’s interest pricked. “That is an intriguing coincidence. Sir Radnor fought over this manuscript with someone?”

“Yes, I don’t recall the other man’s name, but Sir Radnor said they had a fierce rivalry, particularly over this manuscript. He was quite smug about winning it.” She almost smiled, then made a face.