The Paid Companion | Herophine

Chapter Twenty Seven

“Do you think that Glentworth or Treyford might have continued to secretly pursue such researches after they had all agreed to abandon alchemy?” Hero asked.

Lady Wilmington blinked and straightened her shoulders. When she turned to Hero she was back in the present.

“I cannot imagine that for a moment, sir. They were, after all, highly intelligent, educated men of the modern age. They were not real alchemists, for heaven’s sake.”

“I have one more question, if you will be kind enough to indulge me,” Hero said.

“What is it?”

“Are you certain that Lord Treyford died in that explosion in his laboratory all those years ago?”

Lady Wilmington closed her eyes. Her fingers went to the locket. “Yes,” she whispered. “Treyford is most certainly dead. I saw the body myself. So did your great-uncle, for that matter. Surely you do not believe the killer you seek is an old man?”

“Not at all,” Josephine said. “We are well aware that we are searching for a young man in his prime.”

“Why do you say that?” Lady Wilmington asked.

“Because the villain had the nerve to dance with me after he murdered Zach,” Josephine said.

Lady Wilmington looked stunned. “You danced with the killer? How do you know it was him? Can you describe him?”

“No, unfortunately,” Josephine admitted. “The occasion was a masked ball. I never saw his face. But there was a tear in his domino which we believe may have been created during a struggle with the butler.”

"I see.” Lady Wilmington’s expression was troubled. “I must say, this is all quite odd.”

“Yes,” Hero said, “it is.” He glanced at the clock. “We must be off. Thank you for seeing us, madam.”

“Certainly.” She inclined her head in a regal nod. “You must keep me informed of your progress in this matter.”

“Yes.” Hero took a card from his pocket and set it on a table. “If you think of anything that might assist me in this investigation, I would very much appreciate it if you would send word immediately, no matter what the time, day or night, madam.”

Lady Wilmington picked up the card. “Of course.”

Hero said nothing to Josephine until they were both inside the carriage. He settled into the seat, resting one arm on the back of the cushions.

“Well?” he said. “What do you make of Lady Wilmington?”

She thought about how the woman had touched her gold locket time and again throughout the conversation.

“I think that she was very much in love with one of the members of Society of the Stones,” she said.

Hero’s face tightened with surprise. “That is not quite what I had expected to hear, but it is certainly interesting. Which of the three, do you think, caught her fancy?”

“Lord Treyford. The one who died in the prime of life. The one she and the others considered the most brilliant of the three. I suspect it is his picture that she carries inside that gold locket.”

Hero rubbed his chin. “I had not noticed the locket, but I was certainly aware of the fact that her ladyship was concealing some information. I have done business with enough cunning people to know when someone is lying to me.”

Josephine hesitated. “If she did lie to us, I suspect it was because she was convinced that it was necessary.”

“Perhaps she is trying to protect someone,” Hero said. “Whatever the case, I am convinced now that we must learn more about Treyford.”

Lady Wilmington

The killer had dared to dance with Miss Langford. He must have been mad to have taken such a daring liberty.

Mad.

Lady Wilmington shivered at the thought. She sat alone for a long time, staring at the earl’s card and fingering the locket. Old memories rushed in upon her, clouding her vision. Dear heaven, this was so much worse than she had allowed herself to believe.

After an eternity, she straightened her shoulders and dried her eyes. Her heart was breaking but she no longer had any choice. Deep down inside she had known that eventually, this time would come and that she would have to do what must be done.

Reluctantly she opened a drawer in the writing desk and took out a sheet of foolscap. She would send the message immediately. If she planned well, everything would soon be under control.

By the time she finished the brief note, some of the words had been smudged by her tears.