Page 46 of A Whisper and a Curse

“Where do you conduct your séances, Mrs. Griswold?” Tilda asked.

“Here,” Mrs. Griswold replied. “I love the energy that comes from this space, probably because many mediums have passed through these rooms and several live here at any time.”

“Do they?” Tilda asked in a casual manner, though Hadrian could tell her curiosity was piqued. “I didn’t realize anyone lived here, beyond Mr. Mallory.”

Mrs. Griswold pursed her lips in thought. “There are three mediums in residence currently, aside from Mr. Mallory, including me.”

“Why do you live here?” Hadrian asked. He found the arrangement odd, as if Mallory were running a boarding house, particularly if their stays were temporary, as Mrs. Griswold seemed to indicate.

Shrugging, Mrs. Griswold glanced toward the hearth where a man and woman were still speaking. The woman had pivoted so that Hadrian could see her face, and Hadrian realized she’d been seated with Mrs. Griswold at Ward’s inquest.

“Lysander generously offers us lodging whilst we train to become mediums,” Mrs. Griswold explained. Her expression grew serious. “It’s important that we learn to harness our unique energies and learn to speak with the spirit realm.”

Tilda cocked her head. “What if someone decides they don’t wish to practice as a medium and chooses not to remain in the society?”

“I don’t know that I’m aware of anyone who’s done that,” Mrs. Griswold said without a moment’s thought.

Hadrian thought of Roger Grenville. Perhaps Mrs. Griswold hadn’t known him.

“I understand Mrs. Frost was considering leaving the society after Mr. Ward was murdered,” Tilda said.

Mrs. Griswold pressed her lips together before responding. “I had not heard that. And unfortunately, that rumor cannot be confirmed. Poor dear. I still can’t believe she and Cyril are gone. I expect them to walk in at any moment.” She glanced toward the doorway and blinked a few times.

“Can you tell us about the séances that are held here?” Tilda cast a look in the direction of the parlor where they’d seen the large séance table. Hadrian hoped he would have a chance to look at it and see if it was also made by Clifton. “They’re conducted by the mediums who live here?”

“That’s right,” Mrs. Griswold said.

“It sounds as though the society is a kind of school for mediums,” Tilda mused.

“More like a place to hone our skills,” Mrs. Griswold said. “All of the society’s mediums have a natural gift for communicating with the spirit realm. The society allows us to grow our energy and truly embody our talents.”

“We heard about the person who interrupted one of Mr. Ward’s séances here recently,” Tilda said, her brows gathering with concern. She was very adept at playing a role when interviewing people. “I imagine that is upsetting, since he was murdered.”

“Indeed.” Mrs. Griswold nodded vigorously. “I do hope the police are being thorough in their investigation.”

“I’m sure they are,” Tilda said.

Mrs. Griswold looked to Hadrian. “Your mother attended a séance with Deborah—Mrs. Frost—earlier this week. Was she hoping to attend another?”

“She was, in fact,” Hadrian replied. “We came here today to see if another medium would suit.”

A dazzling smile lit up Mrs. Griswold’s face. “I would be happy to conduct a séance for Lady Ravenhurst.”

“Splendid!” Hadrian infused as much enthusiasm into his reaction as he could and only hoped he was convincing. He was not skilled at acting like Tilda—yet. “When will that be? My mother is anxious that it should be soon. Mrs. Frost mentioned there was a window of opportunity to reach my brother whilst he is near. Or something.”

Mrs. Griswold nodded. “Deborah was absolutely right. Had your brother appeared at the séance?”

“He seemed to. Briefly.”

“Then yes, we will want to have the séance soon. I’ll speak with Lysander and let you know.” Mrs. Griswold glanced toward the doorway. “In fact, I’ll do that now. Please excuse me.”

As the medium left, another man entered. He looked familiar.

Tilda leaned toward Hadrian. “Isn’t that man one of the footmen who served dinner at Mrs. Frost’s?”

Hadrian surveyed the man’s oval face. He had deep-set eyes and a cleft chin. “Yes, I thought I’d seen him before.”

“Let us confirm.” Tilda moved toward the young man before he could progress to join anyone. She smiled warmly. “Good afternoon, I’m Miss Wren. Weren’t you at Mrs. Frost’s the other evening serving dinner?”