Page 66 of In the Midnight Hour

“Your retainers are exceptionally loyal,” Northwood said. “My apologies for overstepping. I’m tense as well.” He gave her a sheepish look. “I didn’t want to tell you that.”

She cocked her head. “Why?”

“Because I’m trying to make you feel more at ease. How can I do that if I’m also uneasy?”

A bit of her agitation slipped away. “Honestly, that makes me feel better—as if we are on equal footing, and together we can face this infernal interview.”

He brightened. “I like that.”

They heard footsteps, and he sobered. Together, they turned toward the door.

“Mr. Drummond of Bow Street,” Ferris announced. He didn’t linger.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Drummond,” Hypatia said, glad that her voice was even. “How can I help you?”

“I’ve more questions for you regarding Sir Radnor. I’d like to do that now, if you’re amenable.”

Now? “Here?” she asked.

“If you don’t mind.” Mr. Drummond sent a skeptical look toward Northwood.

“Not at all. Please, sit.”

Mr. Drummond didn’t move. “Is Lord Northwood going to stay?”

“Yes,” Hypatia replied.

“I must insist it’s just the two of us,” Mr. Drummond said without apology.

Hypatia’s anxiety, which had settled, crept up. “We’ll go to my study.” She turned to Northwood, who did not look pleased. The flesh around his mouth was nearly white, and his jaw appeared so tightly clenched, she feared he might snap it in two.

“I’ll be right here,” he vowed, his gaze fuming at Mr. Drummond.

The Runner seemed utterly unconcerned with Northwood’s obvious annoyance. Hypatia led him from the drawing room to the back of the first floor where her private study was located. She opened the door and invited him wordlessly inside.

When he’d stepped into the chamber, she closed the door and moved to a table near the back window where she typically reviewed the household accounts and met with Mr. Parker, her solicitor. She took her usual chair and indicated the one on the opposite side of the table.

Mr. Drummond lowered his considerable frame onto the velvet and fixed his blue eyes on Hypatia. He appeared fierce, likely due to the breadth of his chest and overall musculature, but mostly because of the vicious scar along his left cheek and jaw. Whatever had caused it must have hurt unimaginably.

Yes, that was why Mr. Drummond seemed ferocious. Perhaps even unmerciful.

Hypatia shoved such unhelpful thoughts away.

“I’ll come straight to the purpose of my call today, Lady Cartwright.” His deep brogue reverberated in the small chamber. His presence was overwhelming. “The Clavertons have been charged with the theft of those missing items from Sir Radnor’s house, but they will not be charged with the murder. Mr. Claverton has an alibi, and I determined Miss Claverton had no means or capability to travel from Islington to Marylebone in the middle of the night.”

Hypatia clasped her hands in her lap. “What was Mr. Claverton’s alibi, if I may ask?”

“You may, but I shan’t answer, for it isn’t fit for your ears, my lady.” He drew a breath. “I regret to inform you that you are the sole suspect of the murder of Sir Radnor at the moment. You had a motive to kill him, and you had the opportunity—you have easy access to his house through the garden gate you share, and you left the back door of his house unlocked.” He leaned forward slightly so that he nearly touched the table. “I find myself wondering why you left in that manner. It was almost as if you planned to return covertly and made it easy for yourself.”

That sounded damning all on its own, and he hadn’t even mentioned someone in Sir Radnor’s household claiming to see her outside his chamber. Hypatia swallowed. She still didn’t want to tell Mr. Drummond what Sir Radnor had done, but she may have to.

“That is not why I departed through the morning room,” she said evenly.

“You said it was because the footman was asleep, and you didn’t wish to disturb him. Except, he’s been asleep on other occasions, and you had no qualms about leaving through the front door then.”

Dammit. He’d cornered her. A logical reason sparked in her mind and she seized it. “When I realized how late it was, I decided I didn’t want to risk being seen leaving Sir Radnor’s. Gossip tends to run amok in Pemberton Square.”

He frowned slightly. “Perhaps you don’t realize, but when a suspect alters their story in any way, they only increase suspicion. First, you left through the morning room because you didn’t want to wake the footman, and now it’s because you didn’t want to invite gossip. Which is it?”