Page 6 of A Whisper and a Curse

“We should be on our way,” Tilda said, both because she was eager to begin her investigation and to spare Hadrian further discussion. Tilda bussed her grandmother’s cheek and preceded Hadrian from the house whilst Vaughn held the door.

As they walked toward the coach, Hadrian asked, “Where are we going?”

“The London Spiritualism Society has a headquarters located in Cadogan Place.”

“In Belgravia?” Hadrian asked, sounding incredulous.

“You think such an establishment should not be located in such an esteemed area?”

“I’m merely surprised,” he said flatly.

She approached Leach where he stood holding the door to the coach for her. “Good afternoon, Miss Wren. I’m glad to see you.”

“Good afternoon, Leach. I hope you’ve been well.”

“Indeed, miss.”

“We’re going to number thirty Cadogan Place,” Tilda said.

Leach nodded before helping her up the steps into the coach.

Tilda hesitated briefly. Hadrian had always encouraged her to sit in the forward-facing seat. And he’d sat opposite her. At some point, they’d begun sharing the forward-facing seat—right up until the blasted kiss which had happened on that very seat. Perhaps that was why Tilda was wavering as to where she should sit.

Aware that she was likely taking too long to situate herself and not wanting to discuss the matter, she sat on the forward-facing seat and pressed herself as far against the opposite side of the coach as possible to make room for him.

Her deliberation had been unnecessary, for Hadrian sat opposite her. She was at once relieved and disappointed. Whilst she’d hoped for a return to their warm friendship, during which they’d often shared the same seat, she understood why that may not be possible. Her disappointment made her realize shewantedit to be possible.

The coach moved, and Tilda resituated herself toward the center of the seat since she now had it to herself. She was torn between wanting to address the seating, and the new tension in their association, and simply ignoring that in order to focus on the investigation.

The latter won out.

“I learned more about the spiritualism society from my grandmother’s friend, Mrs. Richardson. She only lives a short walk away, so I called on her earlier to ask about her séance experience.”

“I don’t suppose she started and concluded by saying Mrs. Frost is a fraud?” Hadrian asked with a quirk of a smile.

Tilda laughed softly. “She did not. In fact, the séance she attended was not conducted by Mrs. Frost. The medium was Victor Hawkins, who is also with the London Spiritualism Society. Mrs. Richardson was kind enough to tell me where I could find the society as well as where she attended Mr. Hawkins’s séance. He lives in Clerkenwell.”

Hadrian blinked. “I’m aghast that there is a society focused on spiritualism. Is that where one goes to find a medium?”

“Apparently so,” Tilda said. “Mrs. Richardson has not been there. She was invited to the séance by a friend who’d gone to the society. I’m quite eager to learn more about it.”

“It seems as though I must educate myself on spiritualism,” Hadrian said. “I understand it’s quite popular in America. It’s not a topic that ever interested me.”

“Does it interest you now that you have experienced things you cannot explain?”

“I suppose it should.” He lifted a shoulder. “Honestly, I just considered this … ability to be a strange anomaly that would disappear over time. Instead, it seems to be growing stronger. I had so many successive visions together at the end of our last investigation.”

Indeed, he’d had two or three in a row on more than one occasion whilst they’d been investigating. They were incredibly helpful, but they also caused him a great deal of pain. Each vision was accompanied by a headache. The longer or more intense a vision, the greater his discomfort. He’d needed time to recover from them when he’d had several in succession. Tildahad started telling him to try to avoid having visions—which meant not touching things or people with his bare hands—unless they agreed it was necessary.

Tilda met his gaze. “I am hopeful that Mrs. Frost, or perhaps another medium, might be able to help you with your visions.”

He appeared very uncertain, almost alarmed even. “Do you propose we reveal my ability? What if Mrs. Frost, or some other medium, is, in fact, a charlatan? I would prefer not to expose myself to anyone. You are still the only person who is aware of my curse.”

He hadn’t called it a curse in a while. At first, that was almost the only way in which he’d referred to it. She knew it was confounding for him. If she were the one with visions, she wasn’t at all sure how she would feel.

“I promise we won’t speak to anyone unless we both feel absolutely comfortable doing so. I am merely hoping we can learn things that might help you.”

He arched a brow. “Do you really think we’ll encounter someone in this spiritualism realm who shares my abilities?”