Page 15 of A Whisper and a Curse (Raven & Wren #3)

Hadrian didn’t want to cause trouble. And he had learned the name of the carpenter. He’d also seen that there wasn’t any obvious method of moving the tabletop. To be sure, he crawled around the pedestal before making his way out from under the table.

Tilda was waiting for him near the doorway where the constable, whose uniform was labeled with E Division, meaning he was one of Farrar’s men, stood with a perturbed expression.

Hadrian brushed at his knees as he stood and made his way to Tilda’s side.

He offered the constable a smile. “Thank you for your patience.”

They left the drawing room and went back to the staircase. Several constables were working to take Mrs. Frost down. Hadrian felt sorry for the poor woman.

When they reached the first floor, Tilda started toward the back of the house. Hadrian followed, and they quickly located the servants’ stairs. They found the kitchen empty but heard voices from a room next to it.

They moved to the adjoining room, which had a small table and four chairs. The constable sat in one, whilst the maid and her brother occupied the others. They all looked at the door as Tilda and Hadrian entered.

“I’m sorry to disturb,” Tilda said. “I wonder if we might speak with Ellen and Jacob about Mrs. Frost. We had an appointment with her today.”

“Mrs. Frost was looking forward to meeting with you, my lord,” Jacob said, his gaze fixing on Hadrian. “She was thrilled to have her ladyship, your mother, as a client.”

Hadrian inclined his head. “My mother will be sad to hear of her demise.”

Jacob grimaced as he nodded faintly.

Tilda gave the retainers a gentle smile. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about Mrs. Frost?”

The siblings exchanged looks, but it was Jacob who responded in the form of a nod.

“How long had you worked for Mrs. Frost?”

“Well, we don’t—” Ellen began.

“About six months,” Jacob said, interrupting his sister without so much as glancing in her direction.

“That is when Mrs. Frost moved into this house,” the constable supplied. “They explained that the property is owned by the London Spiritualism Society. Mrs. Frost lived and conducted séances here. She also hosted teas for ladies who are members of the society.”

Tilda inclined her head toward the constable. “Thank you.” She looked back to the siblings. “Ellen, you mentioned that you had the morning off today. Was that typical?”

Once again, the constable answered. “They are off every Wednesday morning, and they don’t reside here.”

“Where do you live?” Tilda asked the retainers. She did not sound as though she were bothered by the constable’s interruptions, but Hadrian found it annoying.

“I was just getting to that,” the constable said rather unnecessarily. He looked expectantly at Jacob and Ellen.

“We lodge elsewhere.” Jacob glanced toward his sister. “We prefer that.”

“What of the other members of the household?” Hadrian asked. He thought of the footmen who’d helped serve dinner the other night. And Ellen presumably had help preparing the meal.

“There aren’t any,” Jacob replied.

But Ellen had also answered. Her words came at the same time as Jacob’s but in a softer tone so that Hadrian didn’t catch them entirely.

Tilda turned her focus to Ellen. “What was that?”

“There are footmen and a maid who come to help with the séances.” Ellen slid a nervous look toward her brother.

“We’ll need to speak with them,” the constable said, lifting his pencil to write in his notebook. “What are their names?”

The siblings hesitated, but Jacob finally answered, and the constable wrote them down.

The constable fixed his gaze on Jacob. “Where can I find them?”

“I’m not certain,” he said quickly.

“Come now, Mr. Henry.” The constable narrowed one eye at the retainer. “You work with these people. Surely you know where they can be found. It isn’t wise to lie to the police.”

“You’ll have to ask the society,” Ellen said, her voice squeaking. Taking a deep breath, she added, “The man in charge there.”

Jacob frowned at his sister, and it seemed to Hadrian that the butler was troubled by something. And the maid was very upset. Perhaps it was that they’d just found their employer murdered in a ghastly fashion.

“Did Mrs. Frost ever speak to you about the séances or her work as a medium?” Tilda asked.

Jacob looked down as he shook his head. “No.” The man seemed agitated, and again Hadrian wondered if it was simply due to the murder.

Ellen met Tilda’s gaze, her soft brown eyes losing a bit of their timidity. “She told me yesterday that she was considering leaving the society. She was upset about her friend, Mr. Ward, who’d died.”

“Was she afraid?” Hadrian asked.

“I think so.” Ellen shifted her eyes away from them. “She said she wasn’t entirely happy, that London was perhaps too fast for her.”

Tilda’s eyes narrowed slightly. “She wasn’t from here?”

“She was from somewhere west,” Ellen replied. “She said she came to London after her husband died.”

“Was there anyone with whom Mrs. Frost was particularly close?” Tilda asked. “Perhaps a friend or even a gentleman?”

Jacob’s brow furrowed as he regarded Tilda. “Why are you asking us questions about Mrs. Frost after she has died?”

“These are questions I am going to ask,” the constable said. “So you may as well answer them.”

“There was no one in particular,” Jacob replied. “All the mediums in the society are close. And Mrs. Frost had regular clients who attended her séances and teas.”

The constable scrutinized them. “I need their names. I’ll repeat what I told you at the start of this interview—whatever you say will help us find the villain who did this to Mrs. Frost.”

“There were a few ladies who came to tea nearly every week the past couple of months,” Ellen said. “Mrs. Hemmings, Mrs. York, and Lady Gillivray.”

The constable wrote the names down. Hadrian wondered why Tilda wasn’t doing the same, but he suspected she was committing them to memory and would record them later.

“If you think of anyone else, I expect you’ll let us know,” the constable said with a tap of his pen against the paper of his notebook.

Ellen nodded, but Jacob didn’t react. His features were locked in consternation.

Hadrian sensed the siblings’ worry and perhaps fear. “What will you do now that your employer has died?”

Jacob blinked. “We’ll manage.” He took his sister’s hand.

“If you require assistance, please call at Ravenhurst House,” Hadrian said.

Jacob sent Hadrian a look of surprise. “That is most kind of you, my lord.”

“I have one more question,” Tilda said. “Ellen, did Mrs. Frost wear pearl earrings? I found one upstairs near … where she was.”

Ellen’s brows drew together. “No, she did not wear earrings.”

“Thank you,” Tilda said warmly. “Please accept my condolences.” She pivoted to leave.

Without thinking, Hadrian brushed his hand against her lower back to escort her from the room. He immediately froze. After the kiss disaster, he’d resolved not to do things like this, but he’d forgotten. Recovering himself, he pulled his hand away.

Tilda snapped her gaze to his for a brief moment before inclining her head at the constable. Then she swept from the room, and Hadrian followed. They didn’t speak until they started up the stairs to the ground floor. Thankfully, she said nothing about his lapse of judgment.

“It is interesting that Mrs. Frost spoke of leaving the society,” Tilda said. “And of her discontent in London.”

“It seems we should visit the society and make inquiries there amongst its members,” Hadrian suggested. “I imagine you will also want to speak with the ladies who regularly came to tea with Mrs. Frost.”

“We must speak to as many people as possible to determine who, if anyone, may have held a grudge against the society.” Tilda paused at the top of the stairs and looked over at him.

“We must also inquire with Mr. Mallory about the other retainers who help with the séances. However, first, I think I should like to call on Mr. Hawkins, since he is the sole remaining premier medium.”

“Would you care to do so now?” Hadrian asked.

“I would indeed, if you are amenable,” Tilda replied eagerly as they left the servants’ stairs and made their way toward the entrance hall. “You don’t have pressing matters in the Lords?”

“Not today.” Though even if he had, Hadrian would almost always choose investigating with Tilda over his other duties—when he could.

As they passed through the staircase hall, they glanced up. Hadrian thought he glimpsed the coroner, Graythorpe.

“I’d like to attend the inquest,” Tilda said, indicating she’d perhaps seen him too.

“It seems you are investigating these murders,” Hadrian observed as they stepped outside. He swung his head toward her.

She sent him a smile bright with anticipation. “ We are investigating them.”