Page 46 of A Whisper and a Curse (Raven & Wren #3)

Mrs. Griswold’s brow furrowed. “Some people are not able to cope with everything happening, which is completely understandable. As I said, Harmony was young and perhaps a bit … na?ve.” She looked toward Hadrian’s mother.

“Never fear, the society will rise from these tragedies stronger than ever, especially when Lysander returns to us. You heard what Deborah said—he is not the killer.”

“I don’t think Detective Inspector Teague will take her testimony from the spirit realm as evidence,” Tilda pointed out.

“Perhaps not, but I will inform him just the same,” Mrs. Griswold said pertly.

Mrs. Langdon joined them. “That was a wonderful séance, Mrs. Griswold. I confess I am disappointed I can only attend one each month, for I would attend another this week if I could.”

“I’m certain we can arrange for that,” Mrs. Griswold assured her. “Both Nigel and Isidora will be conducting séances. There is great demand. Excuse me, I must speak with Mrs. Kelson.”

“Who would have guessed that multiple murders would have increased the society’s popularity?” Hadrian mused.

Lady Ravenhurst glowered at her son. “I know you don’t understand why people would want to speak with their departed loved ones, but it is not uncommon. And you saw what happened tonight. I’m not at all surprised that so many people want to experience this wonder.”

Tilda watched the pulse in Hadrian’s neck tick madly.

He swallowed before responding, seeming to take a pause to settle himself.

“You are right that I don’t understand, just as I am not convinced they are actually speaking with anyone in the supposed spirit realm.

You heard what she said about Gabriel and Father being happy together.

And then you looked at me, and I could see you doubted what the medium was saying. ”

“The medium wasn’t saying it. That was Gabriel.” Lady Ravenhurst fixed an expectant stare on her son. “Why wouldn’t he and your father have resolved things?”

“Because Father didn’t know how to do that.” Hadrian’s voice was hollow. “Perhaps you don’t remember.”

The dowager countess averted her gaze from his. “I do remember, and I can hope he has improved upon himself in the spirit realm.”

Hadrian’s forehead creased. However, he said nothing more on the issue. Tilda wanted to know what he was thinking.

His mother did not relent. “How can you doubt that Gabriel was here? How else would Mrs. Griswold have known about the snow fort you made together all those years ago?”

“Perhaps she has a way of seeing our memories,” Hadrian commented unironically.

Tilda’s breath snagged. What was he doing?

“Don’t be silly,” Lady Ravenhurst scoffed.

“ That is silly, but speaking with the dead is not?” Hadrian smiled briefly, then rolled his shoulders back. “Do you wish to stay for dinner?”

“Yes, and if you would rather not, I’m sure Mrs. Langdon will convey me home.” The dowager countess glanced toward her friend.

“If you don’t mind, I would prefer to leave,” Hadrian replied.

“As you wish.” His mother swept away toward Mrs. Langdon.

“Is she upset with you?” Tilda asked in a low tone.

“Yes, but no more than I am with her.” Hadrian rubbed the back of his neck. “She had a terrible habit of tolerating my father’s behavior when he was alive.”

“What behavior was that?”

“Focusing all his attention on me and ignoring his other children.” He lowered his hand to his side. “And ignoring my mother in favor of his mistresses.”

Tilda considered changing the subject but couldn’t seem to stop herself from asking, “What was the argument between him and Gabriel about?”

Hadrian took a deep breath. “Gabriel had endured enough of our father’s comments about how he needed to take care in case he was needed as the spare.

Father was torn between wanting Gabriel to do his duty as an officer and preferring he not endanger himself.

He just liked to control everything and everyone, and he knew he couldn’t do that with Gabriel when he went to India.

Gabriel rebuked him soundly. I wasn’t there, but I wish I had been. ”

“You don’t think it’s possible that Gabriel might have forgiven him?” Tilda added, “Before he died, I mean.”

“I hope Gabriel found peace with our father, but I don’t know for certain.” Hadrian realized he would like to know that. But he could not. “Nor do I expect to ever find out. Regardless of what my mother believes.”

Tilda glanced toward the dowager countess. She stood with Mrs. Langdon. “I thought you were going to tell her about your ability.”

“I confess I did think of it when I saw her this afternoon. But I am glad I did not,” Hadrian said. “Because my curse is silly , whilst pretending to speak with the dead is not.”

She heard an edge of hurt in his tone. “You’re afraid to tell her, aren’t you?”

His gaze snapped to hers and held it. “Wouldn’t you be?”

“I … I don’t know. What are you afraid of?”

He looked away, his jaw tight. “That she won’t believe me. Or she will laugh. Worst of all, that she will think I’ve gone mad.”

Tilda gently touched his sleeve. “You aren’t still worried that will happen?”

“I can’t help wondering, especially after what Captain Vale told us.”

Tilda dropped her hand to her side. “You aren’t mad. And I think your mother might just believe you. She wants to believe that she can talk to her dead son. Why wouldn’t she believe that her living son can experience other people’s memories?”

He swallowed. “I don’t know if I can take the risk. Not yet anyway. But I will continue to think about it.”

Tilda smiled at him. “I’m glad. You have a wonderful bond.”

“Whilst that is true, I realize I harbor some … ill feelings toward her. She should have done more to protect my sisters and Gabriel from our father’s coldness.

I don’t know what that would have been, but to hear her now, acting as though things were pleasant when they bloody well were not, is disappointing. ”

“I wonder if her need to hear from Gabriel comes from regret,” Tilda suggested quietly.

Surprise flashed in Hadrian’s eyes, but before he could respond, Crocker approached them with a tray holding glasses of a red wine.

“Would you care for wine?” the butler asked.

“No, thank you,” Hadrian replied. “We will be leaving shortly.”

“Did you not enjoy the séance?” the butler asked, his brow creased with worry.

“I don’t think séances are for me,” Hadrian said blandly.

Crocker looked to Tilda. “What about you, Miss Wren?”

“They are most interesting.” Tilda cocked her head. “When will you lead one yourself?”

“Soon,” he said excitedly. “Mrs. Griswold says the society needs to promote the mediums who have been training now that …” His voice trailed off. “Well, you know.”

“Yes,” Tilda replied soberly. “I wish you good luck.”

His eyes lit with gratitude. “Thank you.”

After he walked away, Tilda inclined her head toward the corner where she thought the breeze may have originated. She and Hadrian sauntered in that direction.

Hadrian tilted his head and looked high up on the wall. “That is a vent.” He lifted his hand. “I feel air, but not strong enough to make the candles flicker.”

Tilda looked at Hadrian. “I’ll wager they use a bellows to blow air.”

“That is entirely possible.” He moved closer and scrutinized the area. “See how the wallpaper has been recently replaced around the vent—it’s a more vibrant hue than what’s below.”

“Do you think they installed it when Mrs. Frost moved in?” Tilda mused.

“That’s a reasonable estimation,” Hadrian replied.

“What are you looking at?”

They both turned at the sound of the masculine voice. Inwood, the bespectacled man who’d sat beside Mrs. Griswold, was looking up where they had been a moment ago.

“Just admiring the ironwork on that vent,” Hadrian said with a smile. “I’m Ravenhurst.” He held his hand out to the man.

“Inwood.” He shook Hadrian’s hand. “I hope you weren’t too troubled by the séance. I know some people find it jarring to hear from their deceased relatives, especially when they were close to you in life.”

“This isn’t your first séance?” Tilda asked.

Inwood shook his head. “I’ve lost count of the number I’ve attended,” he added with a smile. “I joined the society late last year.”

Hadrian looked at him expectantly. “And how many people in the spirit realm have you spoken with?”

“Er, none. I don’t really have anyone I wish to speak with.” He shrugged. “I do like attending séances, however. I particularly enjoy watching levitation.” He grimaced. “I suppose I shouldn’t mention that here. Seems like the society is perhaps taking a break from that sort of presentation.”

“Are they?” Tilda glanced at Hadrian. “I can’t blame them.”

Mrs. Griswold announced that dinner was being served.

“Shall we?” Mr. Inwood said.

“You must excuse us,” Hadrian replied. “We won’t be staying for dinner.”

They bade farewell to the man before ensuring that Lady Ravenhurst would indeed be delivered home by Mrs. Langdon.

A short while later, they were ensconced in Hadrian’s coach on the way to Marylebone.

Once again, Hadrian did not sit beside Tilda.

Tonight, after the emotions he’d experienced, Tilda rather hoped he would.

She should have explicitly invited him to.

“I felt nothing when I shook Inwood’s hand,” Hadrian said as he settled back against the squab. “I think your theory about Montrose, Sullivan, and Parr is accurate. Honestly, it makes perfect sense that they are Mallory in disguise. I’m disappointed I didn’t see it.”

“I didn’t either until I wrote their names down and saw the Shakespearean connection.

We must commend Mallory’s efforts with hair and costumes.

He quite transformed himself.” Tilda exhaled.

“Can we now conclude that Mallory is the only one in the society who possesses the ability to experience memories?”

“That seems likely, though I would like to know how Mrs. Griswold knew about the snow memory with my brother.”

“Was it accurate?” Tilda asked.

“Eerily so. Mallory has touched my mother. It’s entirely possible he experienced that memory and had already shared it with Mrs. Griswold.”

“That was my thought as well—that she knew about it before the séance.”

Hadrian’s eyes narrowed. “They are quite cunning, aren’t they?”

“I think we must assume their capacity for intrigue is limitless.”

“As well as their hunger for gullible people to attend their séances and join their society,” Hadrian said.

“Mrs. Griswold called on my mother this morning to suggest this séance tonight, and I expect her to solicit my mother’s patronage.

Damn, I should have stayed for dinner after all, so I could stop such nonsense. ”

Tilda gave him a sympathetic look. “Try not to worry. I would say the future of the London Spiritualism Society is at risk. Even if Mallory isn’t the Levitation Killer, he is a blackmailer and sent me a threatening letter. The society is likely to be without its leader. Can it continue?”

“You make an excellent point. I want to be sure Teague has all the evidence he can get regarding the blackmail. Shall we visit the grocer in Bedfordbury tomorrow? I’ve a meeting in the morning at Westminster, but I can be free by noon.”

“Yes, please,” Tilda said with a nod. “Don’t forget to bring your pistol.”