Page 89 of A Whisper and a Curse
Tilda and Hadrian took their leave a few minutes later.
“I keep thinking about the article Clement wrote,” Tilda said. “I’d like to speak with him. I wonder if he could be persuaded to tell us who else he spoke to besides Harmony Smith.”
“Would you like to visit Fleet Street next?” Hadrian asked.
“I would,” Tilda said. “Thank you.”
However, outside the police station, they encountered two of the mediums from the spiritualism society—Isidora Dryden and the male medium whom Mallory had suggested as a replacement for Lady Ravenhurst after Mrs. Frost had been murdered. Tilda recalled his name was Nigel Edwards.
Miss Dryden’s gray eyes filled with recognition as soon as she saw them. “My lord, Miss Wren. We’ve come to see Lysander. Did you see him?”
“Of course they didn’t,” Edwards, who appeared to be around Tilda’s age, said with a faint sneer. “They are the reason he was arrested. I’m sure they were here trying to ensure he hangs.” He fixed Hadrian with an angry stare. “Why do you dislike him so much? He’s done nothing but help people, including your mother!”
Tilda hadn’t taken Hadrian’s arm when they’d left the station, but she did so now. Immediately, she felt his tension in the stiffness of his arm.
“You mustn’t shout like that, Nigel,” Miss Dryden said. She sniffed and blinked, as if she were trying not to dissolve into tears. Her cheeks and small, pert nose were flushed. “My apologies, Lord Ravenhurst. We are very upset about Lysander. He is not a killer. We’re sick that he’s been imprisoned. I imagine he’s cold and hungry. And probably in need of a bath.” Her features pinched, making her appear quite stricken.
Edwards put his arm around Miss Dryden and gave her a squeeze. “All will turn out well, Isidora. It has to.” He looked to Hadrian and ducked his chin. “Please accept my apologies, my lord. This is a very trying time, and I’m afraid my emotions—indeed, all our emotions—are high.”
Miss Dryden nodded as she pressed a gloved fingertip to the corner of one eye.
Tilda didn’t doubt their upset, even if they did work to defraud people. She wondered how involved the mediums were with the implementation of the society’s trickery. Surely they were well-versed in the cheats that were used during the séances, but what of the blackmailing?
“We shall see for ourselves how Lysander is doing,” Edwards went on.
Miss Dryden looked to Tilda. “We are here to visit him. It’s so difficult without him,” she said somewhat dramatically. “We are doing our best to carry on.”
Edwards turned toward Miss Dryden and took her hand. “Listen to me, my dear, Lysander will guide us. Even now, Mercy is settling into Rathbone Place and will hold a magnificent séance tonight. The society is truly thriving.”
Thriving? With three dead mediums? Tilda stared at them.
A smile lifted Miss Dryden’s lips, and she briefly closed her eyes as she exhaled. “You are right, Nigel.” She released his hands and looked to Tilda and Hadrian. “It’s astonishing how many people have come to support the society today. They want to become patrons or members, and they want to attend séances. That is why Mercy is hosting one this evening.” She looked at Hadrian expectantly. “Will you be coming, my lord?”
Tilda’s breath stalled in her lungs. She worried what Miss Dryden’s question could mean.
Hadrian had stiffened. “No, I have not been invited. Should I have been?”
Miss Dryden blushed faintly. “I thought you might have been since the séance is for Lady Ravenhurst. Perhaps you have not yet received the invitation.” She looked away from Hadrian as her voice trailed off.
Glancing sideways at Hadrian, Tilda could see that he’d clenched his jaw. She smiled at the mediums. “We must be off. Please excuse us.”
Tilda pulled Hadrian toward the coach, which was a short walk away. He fell into step beside her, moving woodenly as he stared straight ahead.
When they reached the coach, he blinked and fixed his attention on Leach. “We’ll be taking Miss Wren home. Then to my mother’s.”
Leach nodded as he held the door and helped Tilda inside. She sat on the forward-facing seat and was not surprised when Hadrian sat opposite her instead of next to her. His agitation was palpable.
“You’re upset that your mother is attending another séance.”
“And didn’t include us.” His eyes glittered with anger. “I am her son, and you are her investigator.”
“Perhaps Miss Dryden was correct, and the invitation is waiting for you at home.”
“It doesn’t signify as I will be going straight to my mother’s. I’m sorry, but I would rather have this conversation with her without you present.”
“I understand. If you do decide to attend tonight, I’m happy to go with you. If you want me to,” she added. Perhaps he wouldn’t want her there either.
Tilda felt a stab of disappointment and wasn’t sure if it was due to being excluded from her own investigation or because it hurt to think Hadrian didn’t want to involve her in the more personal aspects of his life.