The Paid Companion | Herophine

Chapter Twenty Seven

Josephine

“Oh, my, yes, I remember those Wednesday afternoon salons as though I had held the last one only this past week.” A distant, almost melancholic expression veiled Lady Wilmington’s blue eyes. “We were all so young, so very passionate in those days. Science was our new alchemy, and those of us who were engaged in exploring its secrets saw ourselves as the inventors of the modern age.”

Josephine sipped tea from the paper-thin china cup and surreptitiously surveyed the elegant drawing-room while she listened to Clare, Lady Wilmington talk about the past. The situation here was quite opposite the one that existed across town in Mrs. Glentworth’s small, poorly furnished parlour, she thought. Lady Wilmington was clearly not suffering from any financial difficulties.

The drawing-room was decorated in a version of the Chinoiserie style that had first come into fashion several years earlier. It had been well maintained in all its original lush, sensual glory. The dark, exotic atmosphere produced by the midnight blue and gold flower-patterned wallpaper, the intricately designed carpet and the ornate, japanned furnishings were brightened here and there by beautifully framed mirrors. It was a room designed to appeal to the senses.

Josephine could well imagine their wealthy hostess holding court in such surroundings. Lady Wilmington had to be fast approaching seventy years of age, but she was expensively dressed in the current model. Her dark gold, high waisted gown looked as if it had been designed to be worn in this richly hued room. The fine bones of her face and shoulders testified to the fact that she had once been a great beauty. Her hair was silver now, and some of it was surely false, but it was styled in an extremely elaborate chignon.

In Josephine’s experience, the older a woman got, the more jewellery she tended to wear. Lady Wilmington was no exception to that rule. Pearls dangled from her ears. Her wrists and fingers glittered with an assortment of diamonds, rubies and emeralds.

It was the gold locket around Lady Wilmington’s throat that caught Josephine's eye, however. Unlike the rings, it was surprisingly plain in style. It appeared to be a very personal keepsake. Perhaps it held a miniature of one of her children or her deceased husband.

Hero wandered over to the nearest window and looked out into the perfectly manicured gardens as though whatever he saw out there fascinated him.

“Then you remember my great-uncle, Glentworth and Treyford?” he said.

“Very well, indeed.” Lady Wilmington raised the fingers of one hand to the gold locket at her throat. “They were all dedicated to science. They lived for their experiments the way painters and sculptors live for their art.” She lowered her hand, smiling sadly. “But they are all gone now. The last one to pass on was Glentworth. I understand your great-uncle was killed by a house burglar a few weeks ago, sir. My condolences.”

“I do not believe that he was murdered by an ordinary thief he chanced to encounter in the course of a burglary,” Hero said evenly. “I am certain that he was killed by someone connected to the old days when the gentlemen of the Society of the Stones frequented your Wednesday salons.”

He still appeared to be fixed on some sight outside in the gardens, but Josephine was watching their hostess closely. She noticed the tiny tremor that went through Lady Wilmington’s shoulders as Hero delivered his flat conclusion. Once again her fingers brushed against the locket.

“Impossible,” Lady Wilmington said. “How can that be?”

“I do not have the answer to that question yet, but | intend to find it.” Hero turned slowly to face her. “My great-uncle is not the only victim of this villain. I believe that Glentworth’s death was no accident, either. I am convinced that the same man killed both of them, and my former butler as well.”