Page 120 of A Whisper and a Curse

Hadrian heard the agitation in her tone and longed to reach out and steady her with his touch. If he could. “I am fine, Tilda.”

She gave him a somewhat tremulous smile. “This time.” Again, she moved her focus away from him. They fell silent for a few minutes before she said, “Can we call on your mother tomorrow, so that I may deliver the results of my investigation?”

“What will those results be?”

“I suppose they are moot since the society is dissolving. However, she may wish to seek out a different medium.” Tilda studied him a moment. “What will you say if she wants to do that?”

Hadrian blew out a breath. “I don’t know. I find her need to ensure Gabriel is at peace and to believe that he and myfather have made peace frustrating. Last night you suggested that her need to hear from Gabriel comes from regret. I’ve been considering that, and I think you may be right. Looking back, I suspect she wasn’t as blind to my father’s behavior as I thought. I wonder if it wasn’t just too difficult for her to face my father’s transgressions. Perhaps it was easier for her to pretend all was well in spite of my father.”

“That makes sense to me,” Tilda replied thoughtfully. “Sometimes people aren’t able to confront difficulty. I think my mother is like that to a certain extent. She never wanted to discuss my father’s death or help me with my grief.” She paused before adding, “I think there are things I choose to avoid on occasion, particularly regarding my father and how much I miss him.” She shifted uncomfortably. “It is probably odd that I wouldn’t embrace the chance to speak with him in the spirit realm. Most daughters would want that, I would think.”

Hadrian couldn’t help thinking of the things he wasn’t addressing. Sharing his ability with his mother came to mind, as did the situation between him and Tilda. Whilst they had settled back into their friendship, the kiss would always linger—at least in his mind—and he didn’t allow himself to fully explore why that was. “Fear keeps us in check,” he said softly. “And perhaps from pursuing the truth or even happiness.”

Tilda nodded. “This is an unsettling conversation.” She laughed softly—and nervously—but quickly sobered. “We could all do with confronting difficult things, I suppose. In our own time, however. Perhaps your mother won’t ever feel comfortable doing so and that is a nettle in her mind. Communicating with Gabriel might give her solace.”

Hadrian eyed her. “How are you so clever about everything?”

Tilda laughed. “I am not. Indeed, I would argue I am not particularly wise about familial relationships, but even a clock standing still points in the right place twice each day.”

Now, Hadrian laughed, and it felt rather wonderful after the stress of the last few hours. When he sobered, he said, “You don’t need to pay Leach anything extra. I can do that.”

Tilda held up her hand. “Nonsense. It is an expense ofmyinvestigation. Indeed, I should start compensating you for your contributions.”

“Absolutely not,” Hadrian said vehemently. “I won’t accept a shilling from you, so don’t even try.”

“I suppose it isn’t worth arguing about,” she said somewhat unconvincingly, so that he thought this could very well come up again in the future.

“That is correct.” He straightened his coat. “Now, tell me what you plan to share with Clement. I’m not certain I agree that we should support his predatory behavior, but I suppose he was helpful.”

“He was indeed,” Tilda said. “And as I pointed out, he may be again. Information is a valuable resource, and it behooves me to cultivate relationships with those who can provide it.”

“You are a cunning investigator, Tilda. I have to think this case will bring more opportunities to you.”

The anticipatory glint in her green eyes was unmistakable. “I certainly hope so.”

CHAPTER 23

The day after the Levitation Killer was caught, Hadrian and Tilda called on his mother so that Tilda could give her full report on the London Spiritualism Society. Tilda had detailed the ways in which the society had defrauded people with their fakery, as well as how Mallory had blackmailed people through means that were not entirely clear.

That had been an opening for Hadrian to reveal his ability to his mother, but he’d chosen not to do so. It wasn’t a conversation he’d wanted to have in front of Tilda. Furthermore, he’d wanted to conduct a small investigation of his own. Namely, he’d wanted to visit his grandmother at the dower house at Ravenswood to learn what he could about his family and whether anyone might have possessed the same ability as he did.

What he’d learned had both confirmed his suspicions and validated his fear. His great-uncle, whom Hadrian had thought had died at a young age, had been committed to an asylum due to hallucinations that drove him mad. His grandmother was not aware that they were not hallucinations, of course, nor did Hadrian explain the truth.

The revelation had sent him into a rather dark frame of mind for a couple of days. But he’d managed to calm himself by acknowledging that he wasn’t mad, and he didn’t think he would ever be. At least not from this.

That realization had given him the courage to call on his mother and address whether she would continue to try to communicate with Gabriel. When she’d learned of the society dissolving, she’d said she would have to think about whether she could trust another medium.

Hadrian arrived at his mother’s, and Peverell directed him to the drawing room where she was taking tea. She looked up from the table as Hadrian strode into the room.

“Hadrian, I was not expecting you,” she said. “Would you like tea?”

“Yes, thank you.” He sat down opposite her as she poured out and fixed his cup exactly as he liked it.

Hadrian smiled. “You have always been an attentive mother. You knew exactly how we all took our tea, our favorite foods, the things that frightened us and made us laugh with joy.”

“Did you know that Caroline still looks under the bed before she goes to sleep at night?” his mother asked. “Though she can laugh about it, at least.”

Caroline was Hadrian’s oldest sister and four years his senior. He was the middle child with two older sisters, a younger sister, and, of course, Gabriel.