Page 7 of A Whisper and a Curse

“I retain a moderate optimism. You know I am insatiably curious. I will dig until I am satisfied.” She grinned at him, and he laughed again.

“Insatiably curious is precisely how I would describe you. In fact, I am sure I have done so.”

“Do you mind presenting your card when we arrive at the society?” His title often aided their investigation. People were annoyingly eager to speak with a peer. Besides, she didn’t particularly wish to alert the society that she was a private investigator.

“Of course not. What about your cards?” he asked. “You did order them, didn’t you? I’ve yet to see how they came out.”

He’d suggested to her that she ought to have cards printed with her name and occupation, as well as her direction. Shehadn’t wanted to share her grandmother’s address, so she’d asked her occasional employer, Mr. Forrest, a barrister who sometimes hired her to assist him with divorce cases, if potential clients could contact her via his office. He’d been eager to agree, since a client for her may also end up being a client for him.

Tilda removed a card from her reticule and handed it to Hadrian. She felt a rush of pleasure as his mouth curled into a brilliant smile.

“I love seeing this,” he said, lifting his gaze to meet hers briefly before he returned to perusing the card. “This looks splendid. I hope you are pleased.” He’d recommended the printer, and Tilda was certain she’d been given an excellent bargain thanks to Hadrian’s status.

“Honestly, I still can’t believe I have them.”

“You should have given one to my mother. She would have been even more impressed with you.” He held up the card between his middle and forefinger. “May I keep this?”

“Certainly.” She felt another flash of pleasure but worked to ignore it as he tucked the card into his coat. “When we arrive, we should ask for the head of the society, though I don’t know his name.”

“I will do that when I present my card.” Returning his attention to her, he asked, “Were you able to obtain a gown for this evening?”

Tilda nodded. “Clara is altering it now. My grandmother insisted I purchase a ridiculous feather for my hair.” She rolled her eyes.

Hadrian laughed. “I look forward to seeing it.”

The coach stopped, and a moment later, Leach opened the door. He helped Tilda to descend to the pavement, and Hadrian followed her.

They walked up the short set of stone steps to the front door. A brass plaque that read “London Spiritualism Society 1867” was affixed to the brick.

“This was just founded last year,” Hadrian noted before knocking.

Tilda’s pulse thrummed with anticipation.

A butler wearing spectacles opened the door. He looked to be in his early thirties and possessed the squarest shoulders Tilda had ever seen.

“Good afternoon.” The butler’s voice was smooth and low.

Hadrian presented his card. “Good afternoon. We’d like to speak with the head of the society.”

The butler opened the door wider. “Do come in.”

They stepped into a massive rectangular entrance hall. A stone staircase curled up the left side at the rear of the room.

“This way.” The butler led them to the right, through a doorway into a parlor that looked out onto Cadogan Place. A large circular table dominated the central area of the room, and a separate seating area was situated near the hearth. “I’ll let Mr. Mallory know you have arrived.”

“Will you tell Mallory that you’re an investigator?” Hadrian asked softly.

“No, which is another reason I didn’t wish to present my card. I think it’s best if they don’t know we’re investigating one of the mediums in the society.”

“That is probably best,” Hadrian murmured as a gentleman strode into the parlor.

The man was tall and muscular with blond hair and a pleasing countenance. A smile lifted his mouth as he approached them. “I’m Lysander Mallory. Lord Ravenhurst, I presume.” He glanced at Hadrian before turning his attention to Tilda. “And?”

“Miss Matilda Wren,” Tilda replied smoothly. “Thank you for agreeing to see us. We’ve come to ask you about how séanceswork. Lord Ravenhurst’s mother has invited us to attend one this evening. We aren’t sure what to expect.” Tilda clasped her hands and worried them slightly, hoping to convey a sense of anxiety. “We thought you or another medium might guide us. We want to ensure the most successful séance possible.”

Mr. Mallory smiled again. “I’m more than happy to help.” He gestured to the seating area near the hearth. “Shall we sit?”

Tilda turned and walked to a dark-purple settee with mahogany trim. She sat, and Hadrian lowered himself beside her.