Page 25 of A Whisper and a Curse

“Yes. I do know that the duchess is somewhat eccentric,” Hadrian said. “Her son died perhaps twenty years ago, and she was in deep mourning for nigh on a decade, if memory serves. It doesn’t surprise me that she would seek to contact him through a medium.”

Teague nodded. “Precisely. Her Grace told me about her son when I went to inform her of Ward’s death and to ask about their connection. She said Ward had helped her speak to her late son, and she was most grateful—to the point of treating him like a family member.”

“As a replacement for her son perhaps?” Tilda asked.

“I did have that impression,” Teague confirmed. His auburn brows pitched low as he regarded them with a dubious glint in his eye. “Do you believe these mediums actually communicate with the dead?”

Hadrian did not hesitate in responding. “No.”

Swinging his head toward Tilda, Teague asked, “You?”

“I am not convinced, but neither have I entirely discounted the notion that there is something happening when these mediums conduct their séances. In fact, I am currently investigating the authenticity of those in the London Spiritualism Society.”

Teague’s gaze flashed with interest. “Are you? I’d be interested in what you learn. If you don’t mind sharing.” They’dshared information with one another on past investigations, and Tilda saw no reason to keep anything from him. He’d been particularly helpful in her first investigation with Hadrian. In fact, Teague had aided them in catching the killer.

“I don’t,” Tilda said. “And if you find yourself in need of someone youcancompensate, I hope you’ll consider me.”

“You know I would. You’ve a sharp mind, Miss Wren. Pity I can’t hire you. The Metropolitan Police could use your talent.” He gave her a wry smile, then turned and departed the pub.

“I know you’re disappointed that you can’t help,” Hadrian said.

“I am not surprised, however. It’s moot anyway. I need to focus on the investigation before me, since I do have a paying client.” Tilda saw that Mallory and the gentleman he’d been sitting with had moved toward the door. “I would like to speak with Mr. Mallory. I shall tell him we felt compelled to come today since we were at the society when the news of Ward’s death arrived.”

“Brilliant,” Hadrian said.

Tilda led the way, arriving at the door at the same time Mallory and his companion did. “Good afternoon, Mr. Mallory.”

The medium had just set his hat atop his blond waves. “Good afternoon, Miss Wren. What a surprise to see you here.” His gaze moved to Hadrian. “And you as well, your lordship.”

Tilda gave him a sheepish look. “We were interested in learning what happened since we were with you when you learned of Mr. Ward’s death. Please allow us to convey our most sincere condolences.”

“If there is anything we can do to help, please let us know,” Hadrian added, his gaze flicking to the other man, which prompted Mallory to introduce him.

“This is Victor Hawkins,” Mallory said. “He’s another medium in the society and was a friend to Cyril.” He glanced atHawkins. “This is Lord Ravenhurst and Miss Wren. They visited the society yesterday and were there when I learned of Cyril’s death.”

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance,” Tilda said. “I’m only sorry it’s under these circumstances. A friend of my grandmother’s recently attended one of your séances—Mrs. Richardson.”

Hawkins was somewhat short of stature. His dark hair was slicked back from his high forehead and his light blue eyes were perfect for a medium. They were at once inquisitive and mesmerizing. “Mrs. Richardson was lovely,” he said with a smile. “Are you hoping to attend a séance?”

“We were guests at Mrs. Frost’s last night,” Tilda replied.

“I’m sure you had a wonderful evening,” Hawkins said.

“We did,” Tilda assured him. “I can see why people keep returning. Is that what happened with the Duchess of Chester?” Tilda knew she was taking a chance by mentioning the duchess but decided it was worth the risk to learn more. “She enjoyed Mr. Ward’s séances so much that he became her personal medium?”

“That is precisely what happened,” Hawkins said sadly. “They were quite close. I plan to call on her shortly to offer my condolences.”

“How ghastly that poor Mr. Ward was arranged to look as though he were levitating. Why would someone do that?” Tilda hoped Mallory or Hawkins would offer an opinion.

“I can’t imagine,” Mallory said almost angrily. “Only someone quite depraved would even think to do that.”

“Perhaps someone didn’t like levitation?” Hadrian asked. “Was Ward known for that?”

“He was, actually,” Hawkins replied. He blinked twice. “Why would someone take issue with that and kill him? It doesn’t make sense to me. I hope the police will discover the truth.”

Mallory’s brows dipped down. He appeared tense. “You must excuse us. We’re having a small gathering at the society, and we need to be on our way.” He turned toward the door, and Hawkins followed him after inclining his head toward Tilda and Hadrian.

Tilda glanced at Hadrian before quickly trailing them from the pub. Outside, the sun had emerged from the clouds. Tilda watched as Mallory and Hawkins caught up to the two women who’d been seated behind them. The quartet climbed into a coach and departed.