Page 44 of A Whisper and a Curse (Raven & Wren #3)

His mother added, “Whilst I admire Miss Wren, she is not someone you should become too familiar with. Certainly, you couldn’t ever court her.

I trust you will take a bride someday.” She sighed.

“She must be capable of becoming the Countess of Ravenhurst. Miss Wren would not be up to the challenge. I wasn’t sure Beryl would be either when you were betrothed, but she at least had a viscount or something somewhere in her family. ”

The dowager countess sipped her tea as if she hadn’t just insulted Tilda.

Hadrian couldn’t think of anyone who was more capable of becoming the Countess of Ravenhurst. Tilda was brilliant, beautiful, and a master of many skills that would benefit his household, including running a household of her own.

But Tilda wasn’t going to be the Countess of Ravenhurst. She had no desire to wed. Hence, Hadrian wouldn’t consider the possibility.

“Mama, I’m sure you don’t mean to denigrate Miss Wren.” He made a point of using a more formal address.

“Not at all. She’s a lovely young woman. She just isn’t someone you should marry, not that you were even considering that. I can’t imagine she’d be interested in marrying you either. She would undoubtedly prefer someone from her own class. I could see her marrying an inspector, actually.”

Hadrian now had the idea of Tilda marrying a detective inspector lodged in his mind. He did not care for it.

His mother waved her hand. “I apologize. I know you dislike when I bring up marriage. I would just very much like to see you settled as your sisters are.”

Married and with multiple children. “I know.” He stood. “I must be off. I’ll fetch you later for the séance. Same time as last week?”

“Yes, please. Thank you for coming.”

Hadrian paused in walking to the door and turned to look back at his mother. “What will you do if the medium fails to make contact with Gabriel again?” Though Hadrian suspected Mrs. Griswold would pretend to make contact as the mediums typically did during the second séance.

The dowager countess blinked. “I’m not thinking of that. I’m convinced she will speak with Gabriel.”

Hadrian didn’t reply before taking his leave. He would hope that his mother would hear from “Gabriel” and then move on from this farce without him having to explain what was really happening. But perhaps he ought to consider telling her the truth—and weathering her reaction, whatever it may be.

Leach held the door of the coach as Hadrian approached. “Was that a disappointing meeting, my lord?”

Hadrian realized he was frowning and smoothed his features. “Somewhat. We’ll be attending another séance tonight in Rathbone Place.”

“I take it that does not please you,” Leach said.

“Not particularly.” Although it meant he would see Tilda again, and that was never a bad thing. Despite that thought, he had a persistent sense of irritation.

As he climbed into the coach, he identified the source: his mother’s denigration of Tilda. More specifically, that she’d pointed out their class difference and declared that they couldn’t wed. That didn’t sit well with him at all.

Perhaps because he worried that she was right.

T ilda had been excited to receive Hadrian’s note inviting her to Mrs. Griswold’s séance with his mother that evening.

She was eager to participate in another séance and had spent the remainder of the afternoon making notes about their investigation.

In doing so, she’d come up with a theory about the séances that she hoped to prove.

She followed behind Hadrian and the dowager countess as they approached the door to the house in Rathbone Place. A familiar face answered—Michael Crocker, who they’d met at the society headquarters and who had served as butler at the last séance they’d attended with Mr. Hawkins.

Tilda suddenly worried for the safety of Mrs. Griswold. Both mediums who’d conducted séances she and Hadrian had attended last week were dead.

“Good evening, Crocker,” Tilda said pleasantly as he closed the door behind her.

“Good evening, Miss Wren. I didn’t know you and his lordship would be here.”

Tilda shot a look at Hadrian. Had he not notified their hostess?

“My apologies,” Lady Ravenhurst said. “I thought it would be all right if I brought them, since they attended last time.”

“I’m confident Mrs. Griswold can accommodate you. I’ll just inform her that you’re here.” He led them up the stairs to the drawing room, where he made his way to Mrs. Griswold.

“Should we wait here?” Tilda asked as they moved through the doorway.

“Perhaps so,” Hadrian replied with a nod.

Their hostess wore a stunning dark blue gown with gold accents. As Crocker spoke to her, she cast a look in their direction. Mrs. Griswold smiled, and Crocker went to adjust the seats at the table, adding chairs that had been moved to the wall.

The medium approached them, her gaze falling first on the dowager countess.

“Welcome, Lady Ravenhurst. I’m pleased you’ve brought your son and Miss Wren.

I should have thought to invite them since they attended last week.

I’m afraid there has been much to distract us in the society.

” Her mouth made a pretty frown before she transferred her attention to Hadrian and Tilda. “My lord, Miss Wren.”

“Good evening, Mrs. Griswold,” Hadrian said. “I appreciate your graciousness in allowing us to intrude.”

“You are most welcome. Lysander says you have a special energy that is most helpful.” Her focus drifted toward the door, where someone had just entered.

“Please excuse me whilst I greet our final guest. I’ll announce your seating arrangement shortly.

Now that you are here, I’ll need to make some adjustments, but not to worry, it’s no trouble. ”

Tilda wondered at her comment about Hadrian’s energy. Had Mallory told her about Hadrian’s ability? Hadrian wouldn’t like that. Tilda didn’t care for it either.

Mrs. Langdon walked toward them with a wide smile. “What a delight to see you here, Ravenhurst, Lady Ravenhurst, Miss Wren. I was so pleased to be invited tonight and am doubly so now.”

They exchanged pleasantries for a moment, and then Hadrian’s mother and Mrs. Langdon began discussing a card game they’d recently attended.

Tilda took the opportunity to step slightly away from them and motioned with her head for Hadrian to join her. “I’ve a theory about these séances,” she whispered.

Hadrian’s brows arched. “Do share.”

“I have been thinking about who may or may not share your ability in addition to Mallory. It seems likely that the three people who sit beside the mediums and often speak to them during the séance are able to experience memories through touch. However, I also find it odd that Mallory was able to find three people who not only possess the same ability he does, but who agreed to use that ability to pretend to converse with the spirit realm.”

“Yes, that does seem a trifle far-fetched, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever meet anyone who is like me, and I have.”

Tilda nodded. “That is true, but let me continue. Earlier today, I was making notes about our investigation. I noticed something intriguing about Montrose, Sullivan, and Parr.” She met Hadrian’s gaze. “They all have first names that are found in Shakespeare.”

Hadrian brows arched briefly. “Like Lysander.”

“Precisely. It seems all the attendees are here, and I do not see Montrose or Sullivan, and I was under the impression that one of them—or Parr, whom we haven’t met—was necessary to glean information for the medium to use during the séance.

The fact that none of them are here tonight supports my theory.

” She paused, anticipating Hadrian’s reaction.

“They aren’t here because they aren’t real people. ”

“Of course they’re real people,” Hadrian said. “We’ve met two of them.”

“I mean, they aren’t Montrose or Sullivan or Parr. They are all Mallory in disguise.”

Hadrian’s eyes rounded briefly before he grinned. “You are brilliant.”

She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. If it’s true, I rather think I should have determined it earlier. It seems obvious, especially with Miss Sullivan’s raspy voice and thick veil that completely obliterated her face.”

“Not to mention the odd gloves which almost entirely covered her hands. Without them, you’d likely be able to detect she was a man …

” Hadrian’s voice trailed off. He snapped his gaze to Tilda’s.

“Miss Sullivan has the same power I do. I felt that same jolt of energy when she touched me at Hawkins’s séance as I did when I met Captain Vale.

I’d completely forgotten.” He shook his head.

“So foolish of me. Is that proof she really is Mallory?”

“That’s not foolish at all,” Tilda said. “I’m glad you remembered. I don’t know that it’s proof positive, but it certainly supports my theory.”

Mrs. Griswold had stood at the table for a moment, her features in deep concentration.

Now, she brightened as she surveyed the room.

“Good evening everyone, and welcome. I am grateful to each of you for coming tonight, especially here in this now hallowed place where we lost our dear Mrs. Frost.” She paused and her features tightened with resolve.

“Alas, we will not be broken by tragedy, and I am confident the murderer will soon be caught.”

The medium began to announce the seating for the séance. Tilda and Hadrian would be opposite Mrs. Griswold at seats six and seven respectively, whilst Hadrian’s mother was again at number ten.

The medium called a man named Inwood to sit beside her at number eleven. He had thick, dark, curly hair and wore spectacles, which he adjusted after he took his chair.

“Let us keep an eye on Inwood to see if he speaks to Mrs. Griswold at all during the séance,” Hadrian whispered.

“You should touch him after to see if he shares your ability.”

“I’ll do that.”