Page 9 of In the Midnight Hour

Descending the stone stairs, North turned to the left, intent on calling on Lady Cartwright, despite the earliness of the hour. Except he didn’t have to.

He came to an abrupt stop because standing in front of him was the alluring—and potentially murderous—widow.

Chapter 3

Lady Cartwright was simply dressed in a rose-colored walking gown with a matching hat over her medium-brown hair. At this proximity, North saw she was indeed beautiful, with finely arched brows over sea-blue eyes fringed with long, dark lashes. Her nose turned up the barest amount at the end, and the pink of her lips was a shade darker than her gown. She’d also stopped upon encountering him.

She was arresting enough to sharpen North’s initial observation regarding her and Sir Radnor. She was too young and too vibrant to be romantically involved with a man of seventy.

“Pardon me, I’m Lord Northwood from across the square,” he said.

“Good morning, I’m Lady Cartwright.”

North smiled. “I know who you are. In fact, I was on my way to call on you.”

Her brows shot up briefly. “At this hour? How scandalous. Even so, I’m afraid I don’t have time to make your acquaintance just now.”

North was both amused and charmed, but he tamped down his reaction, for his reason for calling was a solemn one. “I was coming to deliver bad news, I’m afraid. Your friend, Sir Radnor, unfortunately passed on in the night.”

She tipped her head the slightest bit, but whether it was from sadness or impatience, North couldn’t tell. “I heard. I’m on my way to his house now to find out what happened.”

She already knew? North found that surprising and perhaps even suspicious. She’d allegedly been in Sir Radnor’s chamber the night before, if the senile valet was to be believed. Had Sir Radnor fallen in her presence, and she dashed away to preserve her reputation?

“I thought you just said calling at this hour was scandalous.” North was teasing but also provoking her to see what she might say. Or how she’d react.

Lady Cartwright pursed her camellia-pink lips and narrowed her eyes briefly. Had he vexed her with the comment? “This isn’t a social call.”

“Neither was mine going to be,” he said affably. “I thought you should hear the news before it came to you via gossip. How did you hear of his demise?”

“My cook, Mrs. Martin, and Sir Radnor’s cook, Mrs. Spragg, are friendly. Mrs. Spragg thought I should be informed and sent word with one of her scullery maids to Mrs. Martin.”

“Is that because you and Sir Radnor were close friends?” North watched for her reaction.

Her eyes darted toward Sir Radnor’s house. The action made North think she was nervous. But perhaps she was merely trying to mask her distress. “Friends…and neighbors.” She met his gaze, and North had to keep himself from staring at the beguiling shade of her irises.

“What were you hoping to learn by calling at Sir Radnor’s?” North was conducting his own interview, just as Drummond surely would.

A ripple moved across her brow, causing brief pleats. “Why should you concern yourself with my intentions?”

Why indeed. It wasn’t as if he was an investigator or had any legal standing whatsoever. She held his gaze, and North wondered how long they would remain confrontational. He decided he preferred to end that. “I’m merely curious. A principal officer from Bow Street, Mr. Drummond, is at Sir Radnor’s.”

Surprise flashed over her features. “A Runner? The scullery maid said it was an accident, that Sir Radnor hit his head falling out of bed.”

“That is the current theory,” North said. “I sent for the coroner just in case.”

Another flicker of surprise. “Is the coroner there too?”

“No. He sent Drummond, who is conducting a thorough investigation.”

“I see.” Her gaze drifted to Pemberton Street, which ran beside them. “How troubling.”

Troubling how? “You seem upset. Are you all right?”

She blinked and refocused on him. “I am upset. The man who lives next door to me has died.”

“Of course,” North murmured. He paused before continuing. “I understand the two of you dined together often and discussed books. I imagine his loss will leave quite a void.”

She nodded as her attention once again moved to Sir Radnor’s house. North couldn’t ascertain her reaction. In addition to upset, she also seemed tense and almost nervous.