Page 50 of A Whisper and a Curse (Raven & Wren #3)

T hey arrived in Cadogan Place at the society headquarters a short while later. The constable outside inclined his head at them as they approached the door.

A butler Hadrian didn’t recognize answered the door. He was young, as it seemed most society employees were, with dark blond hair and sky-blue eyes.

“Good afternoon,” Tilda said pleasantly. “What happened to Tuttle? Has he moved to another household?”

The new butler nodded, his expression eager. “He has. He’s over in Clerkenwell. He’s one of the premier mediums now!”

Hadrian slid a look at Tilda and caught the fleeting smile that passed over her lips. “How exciting for him,” she said. “Are you new to the spiritualism society?”

“I am,” the young man said. “I’m Davis. Come in, please.” His cheeks colored faintly as he ushered them into the entrance hall and closed the door.

“Welcome, Davis. I’m Miss Wren, and this is Lord Ravenhurst.” Tilda gestured to Hadrian. “We’ve come to see Miss Dryden.”

“She is in the library,” Davis said.

Except she was not. Miss Dryden swept into the entrance hall and strode toward them, her expression aloof. “Good afternoon, my lord, Miss Wren. Why have you come today?”

“They are looking for you, Miss Dryden,” Davis replied.

“Thank you, Davis,” she said pertly. “You may go.”

Davis hesitated but then inclined his head toward Tilda and Hadrian before taking himself off.

“Forgive me for not inviting you inside, but after what happened with Lysander the other day, your presence here is upsetting.” She’d looked at Hadrian whilst speaking, so he assumed she was referring to his presence and not Tilda’s.

Perhaps he ought to offer to return to the coach.

Except he didn’t want to miss this interview.

“We won’t take up much of your time, Miss Dryden,” Tilda said. “In any case, you should be delighted to hear that Mr. Mallory is to be released from Scotland Yard, if he hasn’t been already. Is he not here?”

The medium’s eyes had lit with enthusiasm when Tilda mentioned Mallory being released. “He is not here, but I look forward to his imminent return.”

Hadrian was certain she would. Rather than ask her about her relationship with Mallory, he waited for Tilda to pose the questions.

Tilda gave her a pleasant smile. “I imagine you are eager to have him back. You are lovers, aren’t you?”

Leave it to Tilda to move straight to the heart of the matter. Hadrian bit back a smile.

Miss Dryden’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Why would you think that?”

“Because we know you are,” Tilda said. “But I should like to know when that started. In fact, when did you come to work for the society?”

“Why does that matter?” The medium sounded suspicious. Or afraid. Or perhaps both.

“We are trying to find the murderer of your colleagues,” Tilda explained. “Any information you share could be helpful, particularly if you are eager to prove that Mr. Mallory is innocent.”

Miss Dryden’s brow furrowed. “But if he’s been released, haven’t the police decided he isn’t guilty?”

“They are still investigating. They have not eliminated Mr. Mallory as a suspect.” Tilda smiled again. “I’m sure you want to help him. Now, when did you join the society and in what capacity?”

Hadrian never failed to be impressed by Tilda. She was certain Miss Dryden would want to protect her lover and used that to persuade her to speak. And it worked.

“I was hired as a housekeeper last September,” Miss Dryden said.

“And when did you become a medium?” Tilda asked.

“In January.” Miss Dryden crossed her arms over her chest.

“Pardon me for the personal inquiry, but when did you and Mr. Mallory become intimate?”

Miss Dryden’s cheeks flooded with color. “Is that really important to the investigation?”

“Every detail is, yes.” She lowered her voice to add, “I promise whatever you say to us will be kept in strictest confidence.”

Exhaling, Miss Dryden’s color faded a bit. She looked away before answering. “We grew closer in December.”

“Are you still together?” Tilda asked.

“Yes.” She blushed again. “Mostly.”

Tilda persisted. “What does that mean?”

Miss Dryden glanced toward Hadrian. “Must I say this in front of his lordship?”

“He will be as discreet as I will,” Tilda assured her. “Does Mr. Mallory have another lover?”

“I’m not sure.” Miss Dryden’s shoulders twitched, and she unfolded her arms.

“What does that mean?” Tilda prodded. “I’m sorry to keep pestering you, but this truly will help the investigation. I know you want to find the killer as much as we do.”

“Oh, yes. I truly do.” Miss Dryden took a deep breath. “Of late, he’s not as … attentive as he has been. I wondered if he’d taken up with Miss Smith. The poor soul.”

“I see,” Tilda murmured. “Is there anything else about your relationship with Mr. Mallory that would be helpful for us to know?”

After a moment’s consideration, Miss Dryden shook her head. Then she met Tilda’s gaze with a fiery stare. “Lysander is a good man. He cares about helping people with their grief. He would never hurt anyone.”

Tilda gave her a warm smile. “I understand. Thank you, Miss Dryden. You’ve been most helpful.”

“Lysander is truly coming back?”

“You should expect him anytime, I think.” Tilda looked to Hadrian, and he could see she was ready to leave. “Thank you, Miss Dryden.”

Hadrian moved to open the door for Tilda, and they took their leave.

“That was informative,” Hadrian said. “But does it help with finding the killer? I’m afraid I don’t see any connection.”

Tilda’s eyes gleamed with that special light that indicated her mind was hard at work piecing together clues and information. “Mallory has had affairs with both female mediums who are dead—Mrs. Frost and Miss Smith—as well as two more mediums who are still breathing.”

“Miss Dryden and Mrs. Griswold?”

“I think we can assume Mrs. Griswold was one of his paramours at some point, given the jealousy you felt when you saw her memory,” Tilda said. “And I think we must consider that she—or Miss Dryden—may have had a motive to kill Mrs. Frost and Miss Smith.”

“But what about Ward and Hawkins?” Hadrian asked.

“It may be that Hawkins discovered the identity of the murderer and was killed. However, that doesn’t explain Ward’s death, since he was murdered first.”

“What if Ward was an accident?” Hadrian mused. “Poison was the weapon, and I would think you could poison the wrong person by mistake.”

“That would be possible.” Tilda gave her head a shake. “We are moving ahead of the evidence. We must speak with Mrs. Griswold and see what we learn.”

W hen they arrived at the house in Rathbone Place, Gibbs, the young constable who’d they’d previously seen at Hawkins’s house, stood on the pavement and greeted them cheerfully. “Pleasure to see you again, your lordship, Miss Wren.”

“I hope there hasn’t been any trouble for you,” Tilda said.

“None whatsoever.” He touched his hat. “But I’m here at the ready if need be.”

Tilda smiled at him as Hadrian moved toward the door. “That is a great comfort.”

Hastening to join Hadrian, Tilda arrived at the door just as Ellen answered. Tilda was glad, as she was eager to speak with her about the pearl earring.

“Good afternoon, my lord, Miss Wren.” Ellen’s brow furrowed. “Is Mrs. Griswold expecting you?”

“She is not,” Tilda replied. “We have come to speak with you as well as her.”

Ellen opened the door wider for them to step into the entrance hall. “You want to speak with me?” She closed the door and faced them somewhat nervously.

Tilda couldn’t help thinking that Ellen had seemed agitated every time they’d encountered her. With good reason. She’d found her employer hanging from a staircase and was expected to simply carry on.

“If you don’t mind, we’d appreciate if you could answer a few questions,” Tilda said. “Like when we spoke last week. After Mrs. Frost.” Tilda decided not to mention death.

“I told you everything I knew,” Ellen said, again sounding tense.

“I wanted to ask about you.” Tilda gave her an encouraging smile. “I know it must be a difficult time after what you’ve been through. I hope you’re doing well.”

Relief flickered in Ellen’s eyes. “Well enough, thank you, Miss Wren.”

“I wondered how long you and your brother have worked for the society,” Tilda said.

“Since last summer. August, I think it was,” Ellen added with a nod.

“And you’re both training to be mediums?”

Ellen blushed. “I’m not anymore. It was more Jacob’s dream. He’s still training, but I’m content to continue in my current position.”

Tilda noted that the female mediums who’d been promoted seemed to have been those who were carrying on affairs with Lysander Mallory. Had Ellen been pressured to do the same and refused? Was that why she didn’t seek promotion?

“My understanding is that the society hires people like you and Jacob and trains you as mediums. Is there a certain time when someone becomes a medium? Perhaps they conduct a certain number of séances? Or, and forgive me for asking such a delicate question, are female mediums expected to engage in a particular relationship with Mr. Mallory?”

Ellen’s eyes rounded and her face flushed bright pink.

“I don’t know if that’s expected, but several mediums have developed a tendre for him.

He is very handsome. And charming.” She blushed even more, then darted a glance toward the staircase hall.

“I am not supposed to talk about how the society works.”

“I do understand,” Tilda said sympathetically. “However, we are investigating the murders of the mediums, and any information you can share will be most helpful. We won’t reveal what you tell us to anyone,” she added in a whisper. “Have you had any kind of … intimate relationship with Mr. Mallory?”

Eyes widening once more, Ellen shook her head. “No. I am not interested in such things.”

Tilda didn’t like making the maid uncomfortable, but she just needed one more answer. “Did that prevent you from training as a medium?”