Page 123 of A Whisper and a Curse

“I appreciate that, thank you. Your ability is incredibly useful.” Tilda sipped her tea.

Hadrian had also taken a drink of tea and now set his cup back on the saucer. Tilda couldn’t help watching his hand. It was odd, but when he’d taken tea here before, which he’d done on a few occasions, she hadn’t considered whether he’d experienced a memory when he touched the teacup.

“What is it?” Hadrian asked.

Tilda shook her head. “I was fixated on your hand. Rather, I was wondering if you saw anything when you touched the cup. Or if you have in the past.”

“I think I once had a fleeting vision of your grandmother, but there has been nothing strong.” His brow furrowed. “I’ve been paying more attention to what I see—when and for how long, as well as the depth of the vision. It’s hard to explain. Some of them—many, in fact—are just a quick impression. Others are fuller and more real, if that makes any sense.”

“It does actually.” Tilda smiled. “It sounds as though you are coming to understand this ability better and perhaps even manage it?”

“I am trying. It certainly helped to speak with Captain Vale.” He moved a biscuit to a small plate and set it in front of him. “As it happens, I’ve been away from London a few days. I visited my estate in Hampshire. The dower house, specifically.”

Tilda knew his grandmother lived there. He’d mentioned her a few times. “Is your grandmother well?”

“Yes. I wanted to see if I could learn anything about my family and whether anyone had the same ability I do.”

“Oh.” Tilda leaned slightly forward, eager to hear what happened. “How did you manage to speak with her about that?”

“I didn’t start by telling her I could experience others’ memories,” he said drily, a smile teasing his mouth. “I asked about my grandfather and his brothers—he had two of them. One of them died rather young. I never knew why.”

Tilda had the sense that was important. “Did you find out?”

“I learned he didn’t die. He was sent to an asylum as a young man, and the family decided it was best to just say he’d died.” Hadrian shook his head. “It’s horrific, really.”

“Why did they send him to an asylum?” Tilda’s flesh prickled. She feared she knew the answer.

“My grandmother didn’t know anything specific, just that he was haunted by seeing things he could not explain. Apparently, he went … mad.” Hadrian looked down and then swept up his teacup for another sip. As he set it back down, Tilda noted his hand shook very slightly.

“You are not mad, Hadrian.”

“I know. At least, I don’t feel mad.” He gave her a half smile. “I was going to tell my mother about my ability yesterday, but I am not quite ready. As you correctly pointed out, I am afraid. But I am less so than I was, and I credit you.”

Tilda could understand him needing time. He was still adjusting to having this supernatural power. “I don’t know what I’ve done.”

“You have been incredibly supportive and considerate,” Hadrian said. “I am fortunate to have someone with whom I could share this distressing malady. Someone who has not judged me or been frightened of me. Someone without whose encouragement and support, I would have surely been lost.”

Hadrian’s gaze held hers, and for a long moment she allowed herself to bask in their shared connection. It was friendship, certainly, but it was perhaps something more. There was admiration and affection. And right now, in this moment—at least for her—an overwhelming desire to embrace.

Tilda put her hand on the table, sliding it toward him. Hadrian did the same, at nearly the same moment. Their fingertips met.

“Pardon me, Miss Wren?” Vaughn interrupted them.

Inhaling sharply, Tilda withdrew her hand as she turned her head toward the doorway. “Yes, Vaughn?”

“An inspector is here to see you.”

“Teague?” Tilda sent a bewildered look toward Hadrian. “I am not expecting him.”

Hadrian shrugged.

“Not Detective Inspector Teague,” Vaughn said. “He said his name was Inspector Maxwell.”

Tilda didn’t recognize the name. “Show him in.” She looked to Hadrian. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all. I could never deny your curiosity.” He winked at her, and she laughed softly.

Tilda rose and Hadrian did the same, moving slightly around the table to join her in facing the new arrival.