Page 73 of In the Midnight Hour

“You’ve been helpful too,” Mrs. Jennings said.

“Can I ask why you attended the funeral service yesterday?” Hypatia asked. When her husband had died, she’d said she was too distraught to go to church. In some ways she was. An unimaginable burden had been lifted from her. She imagined it was like being freed from a cave after several years and seeing sunlight again. It had been welcome but also unsettling and overwhelming.

“I suppose I wanted to make sure he was gone,” Mrs. Jennings said softly. “I’m sorry he died, but I’m glad he won’t hurt anyone else.”

“I can’t stop thinking about how surprised I was by the change in him.” Hypatia gave her head a shake. “When I think of the way he looked at me, my blood goes cold. How did I ever consider him a friend?”

“The same question has stuck in my mind for so long.” Mrs. Jennings met and held Hypatia’s gaze intensely. “But you were right—he changed his behavior. He became a different person, a fiendish lecher.” She offered Hypatia a gentle, but tentative smile. “I hope you won’t think me overbold, but if you ever need more comfort—about Sir Radnor or your husband, I would be glad to listen.”

A knot formed in Hypatia’s throat. For a moment, she could only nod. She finally managed to dislodge it and swallow. “Thank you,” she managed. “That is most kind. I should go.” She rose, and Mrs. Jennings stood with her.

“After you speak with Mrs. Nyburn, if there’s anything you need… I don’t want to share what happened to me with anyone else, but I’m happy to help in some other way.” She frowned sadly. “Though, I hate to think of one of his servants going to the gallows. She was likely only protecting herself.”

“I know. It gives me pause too,” Hypatia said.

“And yet, you aren’t guilty. What a horrid situation.” Anger flashed in Mrs. Jennings’ eyes. “Perhaps I’m not that sorry he’s dead.”

“Me neither,” Hypatia admitted. “That will also remain our secret.”

They embraced again, rather spontaneously. As Mrs. Jennings—rather, Jemima, as she bade Hypatia call her—walked Hypatia downstairs, they made plans to see each other again soon. They would include their housekeepers, who would undoubtedly enjoy an occasion to be together.

As Hypatia walked to the coach, she took a deep, restorative breath. How on earth was she going to relate the conversation she’d had with Jemima to Northwood without falling apart?

Chapter 17

Just as North was about to leave the coach and pace along the pavement, Hypatia came out of the house. Finally. He was starting to worry. About what, he didn’t know.

Or he did know and didn’t want to think about it.

Whatever the two women had discussed, Mrs. Jennings hadn’t wanted to share it with him. Would Hypatia tell him? North only wanted to know if it would help their investigation.

Trigg opened the door and helped Hypatia into the coach. North waited, anxiously, whilst she settled herself on the seat. Her color was heightened, but other than that, she seemed fine.

The coach started moving, and he couldn’t wait another moment to break the silence. “Is all well?”

“Yes.” She pressed her shoulders back against the squab and closed her eyes briefly. “That was an intense interview.”

“I thought it might be. I don’t expect you to tell me what she said. She asked me to leave for a reason.”

“She did,” Hypatia said with a slight nod. “And she asked that what she told me not be shared. However, I will tell you that she gave me proof that Sir Radnor has treated other women in the same way he treated me—and worse. Mrs. Jennings was not as fortunate as me—she was not able to escape.”

North scowled as fury rose within him. “That bloody blackguard.” He wanted to use far more colorful language but kept at least a modicum of his temper in check. “He deserves worse words, I hope you know.”

“I do.” She smiled at him. “Your outrage is very satisfying, I will admit.” Sobering, she took a long breath, exhaling before she continued. “He preyed on Mrs. Jennings for months, just as he did me.”

Anger and anguish played across her features. North wouldn’t have wanted his brother or Drummond to see it. Not that she looked like a murderess, but she was a woman who’d been hurt and that often caused one to lash out in defense. The motive to kill Sir Radnor was plain.

“I am sorry for her,” North said. “And for you. I wish there was something I could do.”

“I’m just glad Sir Radnor won’t hurt anyone else.” Hypatia’s brow furrowed, and he could see she was deeply concerned despite that. “Mrs. Jennings shares my worry that she has a motive to kill Sir Radnor. However, she did not. She was at home on Friday, and her servants can attest to that.”

“In the same way your servants can?” North asked, hating that there was doubt.

“Yes. No one sleeps with someone watching over them.”

“Some people do on occasion, actually. In fact, I have been known to share—” He stopped abruptly. “My apologies. My brother rightfully accuses me of trying to bring levity into situations where I should not.”

She pursed her lips before continuing. “Mrs. Jennings is concerned that Usher mentioned her by name. I told her we are working to solve the murder as quickly as possible but that it’s possible Mr. Drummond might pay her a call.” Concern clouded her gaze momentarily. “I hope he does not. I don’t want her to have to speak of Sir Radnor again.”