Page 36 of A Whisper and a Curse (Raven & Wren #3)

Hadrian heard Tilda’s sharp intake of breath but did not look at her.

“I It suddenly occurred to him that he’d experienced a similar sensation when he’d briefly shaken Mallory’s hand.

“I also felt something…odd when I touched your son.” The feeling hadn’t been quite the same, for Hadrian recalled only a coldness.

That contact had been fleeting, though. Perhaps they hadn’t touched long enough for Hadrian to feel the full effect.

“It is not uncommon for a father and son to share the ability. It runs in families, or so my grandfather told me. I have never met another person—outside of my family—with it. Until now.”

Families … Hadrian wondered who in his family possessed this power. Surely it wasn’t his father, but perhaps that was why he’d been cold? Hadrian could see how it could make a person retreat into themselves, afraid of what they would see whenever they touched something or someone.

It definitely wasn’t his mother. He didn’t think she’d be able to mask that.

“When did your ability start?” the captain asked. “It is different for everyone.”

“I hit my head a few months ago,” he said quietly. “I began to see visions that I could not explain. I was certain I was going mad.”

Tilda touched Hadrian’s arm, and he turned his head to glance at her. Her eyes were full of such compassion. No one had ever looked at him like that.

“You are not mad,” the captain assured him.

“At least, the things you see are not due to any mental deficiency. However, the ability can drive a person to madness.” His expression darkened.

“I worried that my poor son would end up in an asylum. He had great difficulty at first, for his power is very sensitive. He could hardly touch anything or anyone without being assaulted by visions. He wore gloves almost incessantly for years.”

That sounded horrible. Hadrian was very glad he had not experienced that.

“Pardon me, Captain, I am shocked to meet someone who shares this curse.” To think he could have answers at last …

His chest tightened. “I have been at turns bewildered and frustrated. I don’t know why this happened or how to manage it. ”

The captain’s brow furrowed. “Was no one in your family gifted?”

Gifted was not the word Hadrian would have used. Afflicted seemed more accurate. “Not to my knowledge.” Was Hadrian to ask his grandmother or his father’s younger brother? Or perhaps some distant cousin?

Captain Vale shrugged. “It doesn’t pass directly. I have three sons, and only Thaddeus has the gift. My father did not have it either, but his father did. Someone in your family has this ability, but it may have skipped a generation or two.”

Hadrian wanted to travel to the dower house at Ravenhurst and ask his grandmother what she knew, if anything. But how could he do that without revealing his own secret? If she was not aware of the affliction, he would expose himself for no reason.

“Are women not able to possess this ability?” Tilda asked.

“I don’t know. As I said, I’ve only ever known about the people in my own family,” Captain Vale replied. “My grandfather said there were others—and that was according to his uncle who had it, but it’s not something you go about sharing.”

“No, it is not,” Hadrian said firmly. “Though your son shared it with Grenville. He told us about it earlier.”

The captain did not look pleased to hear that. “I’m surprised to hear Thaddeus would do that.”

“He had to because he’s using the ability to see the memories of people who attend his séances, and Grenville was his partner.

They used your son’s ability to their advantage—to fleece people whilst pretending to speak with the dead.

” Hadrian didn’t hide his scorn. “He continues to use it with the London Spiritualism Society.”

“I did not realize that was what he was doing.” Captain Vale’s head tipped down.

“How could you not?” Hadrian asked.

The captain kept his head bowed and did not respond.

“Lord Ravenhurst uses his power to help me solve murders,” Tilda said.

Hadrian heard a note of pride in her voice and looked at her. She met his gaze with warmth and understanding.

Lifting his head, the captain smiled briefly. “That is splendid.” He sent a wary look at Hadrian. “I am surprised you told her what you could do. I only told my wife after we were married.”

“Miss Wren is incredibly shrewd. She realized something was going on and demanded I stop hiding whatever it was.” Hadrian sent her a small smile of gratitude. “I don’t regret telling her. Indeed, she has been a wonderful support as I’ve learned to navigate this mysterious ability.”

“Be glad for that. It is a difficult thing to bear on one’s own. Perhaps that is why Thaddeus told Grenville,” the captain mused, seeming to forget—or ignore—that his son had a more wicked intent.

Hadrian wanted to know more about this power, such as why he hadn’t seen Mallory’s or the captain’s memories. “Did you see something when you touched me?”

“No, nor would I ever. Because we both possess the ability, we are immune to one another. The only thing we can feel from each other is that we share the same ability.” Captain Vale cocked his head. “Did you not feel the tremor of energy that passed between us?”

“I did.” Just as Hadrian had felt it when he touched Mallory. Which meant Mallory knew his secret too. Hadrian did not like that.

Captain Vale cocked his head. “I can’t decide if you are pleased to meet someone else who shares your ability or if you’re distressed.”

“A little of both.” Hadrian wasn’t sure why he was being so honest. Probably because, for better or worse, he had a connection with this gentleman. “I’m rather astounded. And perhaps worried. I don’t like others knowing about this.”

“I feel the same,” the captain replied. “I would not have shared it with you if I had not recognized that we are alike. I will keep your secret.”

“And I will keep yours.” Hadrian took a sip of the now tepid tea in the hope it would soothe his tension. Setting the cup down, he fixed on Captain Vale once more. “Do you have headaches when you see a vision?”

“I used to, but they lessened over time. At some point, you should be able to control when you see or feel something.”

Hadrian’s pulse sped. “How?” He would very much like that to happen immediately.

Captain Vale gave him a brief, apologetic smile.

“My grandfather told me it’s different for everyone.

He said I obtained the ability to manage the gift much sooner than he did.

And he continued to have headaches throughout his life, but since he could control whether he experienced a memory, he very rarely indulged the ability. You have them?”

The thought of having the headaches forever was upsetting, but Hadrian would cling to the notion that he would someday be able to control the power he possessed. “Yes, and the more visions I have in a short amount of time, the worse and more enduring the pain.”

“I’m sorry to hear it. I suggest lavender. It seems to have the best effect for the headaches we suffer. My grandfather’s pillow always contained lavender, and his clothing was laundered with it.”

“Is there any danger to continuing to use the ability once you can manage it?” Tilda asked with concern. “Sometimes, his headaches are quite terrible.”

Hadrian loved how protective she sounded, but then she often inquired after his head after he experienced others’ memories.

“I am not aware of any danger, but as I said, Lord Ravenhurst can hopefully learn to manage the ability so that he can choose to use it—and suffer the accompanying headache—or not.”

“Do you have any suggestions for how I might learn to wield this power instead of it simply happening?” Hadrian asked.

Captain Vale grimaced. “Does it happen every time you touch something?”

“No. It doesn’t happen at my home at all—not with anything there or any of the members of my household.”

Captain Vale nodded. “I am relieved for you. What Thaddeus went through was horrid. His ability was triggered when he fell from his horse at fifteen. He was plagued by constant visions for several years. They made him somewhat volatile, until he was finally able to control the ability.”

“What allowed him to do that?” Hadrian hoped he didn’t sound too desperate.

“I don’t think it was anything in particular. It’s something that just happened gradually over time. I believe it helps to meditate on ways to control your thoughts. When you touch something, think about what you want—or don’t want—to see or feel.”

“Or smell,” Hadrian said.

Captain Vale’s brows shot up. “You smell the memories?”

“You don’t?”

“No.” Captain Vale shook his head. “My grandfather did warn me that no two of us are exactly alike. I was not aware of him smelling them, but he did hear them.”

Hadrian glanced at Tilda. To be able to hear what people were saying would be most helpful in their investigations.

“Does your son?” Tilda asked. “Hear them, I mean.”

“He does, but that came to him later.” The captain looked to Hadrian. “That may yet come to you.”

Hadrian took a biscuit from the tray, his mind churning with everything he’d just learned.

Tilda sipped her tea, then addressed their host. “Can you tell us why you leased the house for your son for the London Spiritualism Society? You don’t seem to favor your son’s pursuit of spiritualism.”

Captain Vale had also taken the break in conversation to sip his tea and now returned his cup to its saucer.

“I didn’t know it was for this spiritualism nonsense.

He told me he wanted to establish a literary salon.

I confess I have felt badly for all the difficulty he suffered as a young man, and I have only wanted him to find happiness. ”

Hadrian was already inclined to like the man, but now it was certain. Captain Vale clearly loved his son, which was not something Hadrian could say about his own father. “I hope your son realizes how fortunate he is to have you.”