Page 75 of In the Midnight Hour

North inclined his head. “I’ll be waiting.” He opened her gate for her and watched as she walked inside. Then he turned and directed Barlow to the mews, saying he’d walk home. It was silly to take the coach just around the square.

As he had the garden gate key with him, he cut through the center of the square, past the clock. Idly, he glanced around for Quill, but he didn’t see the cat.

When he emerged from the garden opposite his house, his gaze strayed to number eleven. He could easily go and interview Mrs. Nyburn right now. It was tempting, for he was most eager to clear Hypatia of all suspicion.

But he would not. He might have started this investigation because he was motivated to find justice for Sir Radnor, but his objectives had changed—somewhat. Finding the truth and making sure no one innocent suffered was still of the utmost importance, but the justice was not for Sir Radnor. North would protect those who needed help, and right now, that was Hypatia.

He would do whatever was necessary to ensure she didn’t pay a price that wasn’t owed. This investigation and the suspicion it had cast on her had already caused damage—if not to her reputation, at least to her well-being.

Whilst justice mattered, North was also troubled by what would happen if it turned out one—or more—of the servants had plotted to kill Sir Radnor. Should they be punished for protecting one of their own? For stopping a lecherous blackguard from committing more violence? North wasn’t sure, and he was even less certain how to square that with his need for justice.

Perhaps that was the crux. It wasn’t justice, per se, that drove him—it was doing what was right. It was right that he should help Hypatia prove her innocence. And it was right that he’d tried to make up for his past transgressions with Parker, even if he’d ultimately failed.

North wasn’t at all sure that it was right to watch women Sir Radnor had terrorized go to the noose.

Chapter 18

At quarter to ten on Saturday morning—just a week after Hypatia’s world had turned even more upside down with the news of Sir Radnor’s death following his horrid behavior the night before—Hypatia walked across the square with Quill trotting alongside her. “You can’t come into Mr. White’s with me, I’m afraid.”

Quill responded by moving in front of her so that she had to step quickly to the left to avoid a collision. This was not an irregular occurrence, especially when food was in the offing. “You’re fortunate I’m light on my feet, Lord Mischief.”

He continued to weave in front of her until they passed through the second gate. Northwood was already on the pavement waiting for her.

As she and Quill crossed Sterling Street, he turned with a welcoming smile. “Good morning,” he greeted as they reached the pavement. His gaze lowered to Quill. “Your assistant has decided to join us.”

“I’ve told him he has to stay outside.”

Seeming to understand, Quill went to North’s gate and lay down on his side before he began to groom his front paws.

“What a clever cat, you are, Mr. Quill,” North said.

“He is Lord Mischief if you’d like to address him formally,” Hypatia explained. “Purrceval Quill, Lord Mischief, if you’d like the entirety of his name.”

North laughed. “Purrceval as in a cat’s purr? Purrfection.” He purred both words as if he were a cat.

Hypatia couldn’t help laughing with him.

“You seem in fine spirits this morning,” North said. “I’m pleased to see it. I trust you slept well?”

“Well enough, thank you. I am eager to speak with Mrs. Nyburn. Shall we?”

“Of course.” North walked to Mr. White’s gate and opened it for her.

When they reached the front door, North knocked, and it was shortly answered by a tall, reedy butler. He greeted Northwood warmly.

“Henderson, allow me to present Lady Cartwright of number twenty-five,” Northwood said after they’d been admitted into the entrance hall.

The butler, who had nearly black hair with gray at his temples, inclined his head toward Hypatia. “A pleasure, my lady.”

Hypatia had met Mr. White, both at the Pemberton Club and at Huxley’s Bookshop, but had not been to his house. “I’m delighted to meet you, Henderson.”

“We’ve come to speak with a member of the household,” North said genially. “Though, we should seek Mr. White’s approval first. We don’t wish to disturb anyone’s work.”

Henderson showed them to the sitting room just off the entrance hall. “I’ll just fetch Mr. White and he’ll be with you shortly.”

“Is your house laid out in the same way?” Hypatia asked as she walked toward the front window that looked out to the square.

“Not quite,” North replied. “The dining room is in the front, and at the back is a room that is part sitting room, library, and study. I’m considering refurbishment to establish a new room so I may have a smaller, private study. There is a study the former owner used on the first floor, but it’s too small for my taste.”