Page 56 of In the Midnight Hour

Miss Claverton paled. “The coroner is here?”

“Indeed he is.” Northwood looked to Hypatia. “You’re certain I should go? I don’t know if I ought to leave you alone with a thief.”

“If she tries to hit me with the walking stick, I’ll duck,” Hypatia said.

Northwood flashed a brief smile, then sobered. “I’ll be right back.” He sprinted from the dressing chamber.

Hypatia moved closer to Miss Claverton and held out her hand.

Miss Claverton stared up at her. “What do you want?”

“To help you up,” Hypatia replied patiently. “Just put the snuffbox and the necklace into the case. Mr. Wadham is here and will want to take the items into custody.”

Blowing out an angry breath, Miss Claverton placed the objects carefully into the open box that had obviously fallen from the nearby dresser. She took Hypatia’s hand and stood, releasing her as soon as she was upright, then brushing her hand on her skirt as if Hypatia had a disease she could catch. Through both of their gloves.

“Why are you even up here?” Miss Claverton asked crossly.

“I saw you at the top of the stairs,” Hypatia replied.

Miss Claverton scowled. “So you thought to stick your nose into my business?”

“Seeing as this will shortly be my house, I’d say everything that happens here is my business.” Hypatia kept a cool tone. “Why did you take those items?”

“They rightfully belong to us. The snuffbox, necklace, and walking stick must stay in the Fieldstone family.”

“Neither of you are Fieldstones,” Hypatia pointed out.

Miss Claverton clasped her hands tightly before her. “I don’t have to answer to you.”

“No, but you’ll answer to me,” Mr. Sheffield said from the doorway. “Come into the bedchamber if you will, Miss Claverton.” He directed a rather disdainful glower in her direction. Miss Claverton obeyed him with haste, and he stepped into the dressing chamber as she moved past him.

“She dropped the snuffbox and necklace into the case there.” Hypatia pointed to the open wooden box lined with velvet. “And of course, there’s the walking stick.”

“North says you saw her at the top of the stairs and signaled for him to investigate with you,” Mr. Sheffield said.

“I found it suspicious that she was upstairs.” Never mind that Hypatia had planned to go upstairs herself.

“Clever of you,” he said, and Hypatia wasn’t quite sure if it was a compliment or a mere observation.

She walked into the bedchamber where Mr. Claverton stood looking as though he might cry. Northwood, on the other hand, wore a rather smug expression.

Mr. Sheffield came into the bedchamber and addressed everyone. “I’ve dispatched one of the footmen to Marlborough Street to fetch a pair of constables and to send for Mr. Drummond from Bow Street. However, I will not wait for their arrival to ask why you were in possession of the stolen items, Miss Claverton.” He regarded her with narrowed eyes.

“We took them,” Mr. Claverton blurted. “We overheard the solicitor telling the butler that we weren’t in Uncle Radnor’s will. We were angry. We took the things that ought to belong to us—items that are important to our family.”

“It’s unfortunate since you were going to inherit those very items,” Northwood said. “Except the snuffbox.”

“What about the manuscripts?” Mr. Sheffield asked.

Hypatia hadn’t had a chance to ask about those.

“We took those because⁠—”

“Jacob, stop talking!” Miss Claverton shrieked. “Stop confessing, you dolt.”

Mr. Claverton snapped his mouth closed and again appeared as though he may weep.

“You also had the walking stick with you,” Mr. Sheffield said before going back into the dressing chamber. He returned a moment later with the eagle-topped stick. “This.” He lifted it in front of his face and carefully examined the head.