Page 51 of A Whisper and a Curse (Raven & Wren #3)

“I … I suppose it did. It seemed as though I might need to show a certain level of … affection for Mr. Mallory. However, no one asked me to do that, and I truly am content in my current position.”

“I’m so glad to hear that,” Tilda said with a smile. “I am curious as to how someone enters the society to train as a medium. Would you mind sharing that? I promise we won’t reveal who told us.”

“I suppose it won’t harm anything to explain how someone becomes a medium,” Ellen said with another look at the staircase hall.

“We’re hired as domestic servants, and we learn how the society works.

Then we start to train as mediums. If we are found to have talent as a medium, we’re promoted to being lesser mediums who conduct séances at the headquarters.

After that, lesser mediums are promoted to premier mediums.”

Tilda glanced toward Hadrian. “We understand Tuttle, who was the butler at the headquarters, is the newest premier medium.”

“He is indeed. I’m so thrilled for him. I think Jacob was hoping he might be chosen, but Tuttle has been with the society a little longer than we have. Honestly, I thought it would be Crocker. He is the very best of the mediums in training.”

“I’m confused about mediums in training and lesser mediums. Those of you in training also do domestic work, but it seems the lesser mediums do not. Is Miss Dryden a lesser medium?”

Ellen nodded. “Yes, and so were Mr. Edwards and Mrs. Griswold—until they were promoted after …” Her voice trailed off.

“After Mr. Ward and Mrs. Frost were murdered,” Tilda finished softly. “Was Tuttle not a lesser medium?”

“Not yet, but he was on the verge of promotion. Then, when Mr. Hawkins … you know.” She gave them a meaningful look. “When that happened, Mr. Mallory said he had to promote another male to take Mr. Hawkins’s place, and he chose Tuttle.”

“So, now all the premier medium positions are filled?” Tilda asked.

“Until the society acquires another property.” Ellen shrugged. “At least, that’s what I think is supposed to happen. Jacob says Mr. Mallory wants a dozen or more premier mediums running séance houses across London. That is why he keeps recruiting mediums.”

“Such as Harmony Smith,” Tilda said.

Ellen blanched. “Yes. She didn’t train for long. Mr. Mallory promoted her to lesser medium very quickly.”

Tilda put her hand in her pocket to retrieve the pearl earring.

“I have just one other question for you, Ellen. We visited Bedfordbury earlier today, and I think we were in your bedchamber.” Tilda opened her palm to reveal the earring.

“I found this in your dressing table. It looks like the one I found here last week. I wondered why you had it. I thought you said you didn’t recognize it. ”

What color that had returned to Ellen’s face immediately fled. “I … I don’t know.” She became extremely flustered, worrying her hands and biting her lip.

“It’s all right, Ellen,” Tilda soothed. “I only want to know why you had it.”

“I didn’t recognize it when you asked me last week. But then when Mrs. Griswold came here as premier medium, I found it in her things as I was unpacking them. I just … I took it.”

“Why?” Hadrian asked.

Ellen looked to him. “I don’t know. It seemed like I should tell someone.” She returned her attention to Tilda. “I showed it to my brother, and he said I should just hide it away. So I did. Was that wrong?”

“No, but it is helpful for the police to know who the earring belonged to.” Tilda tucked the earring back into her pocket. She could see Ellen was worried. “You are not in trouble.”

“But what about Mrs. Griswold? I don’t wish to cause her trouble either.”

“Just because we found her earring here doesn’t mean she had anything to do with Mrs. Frost’s death,” Tilda said.

But neither did it mean she didn’t . And Tilda was now suspicious of many people in the society.

Between Mallory and his revolving paramours, and the promotion system that Ellen had just exposed, Tilda wondered if someone might have been moved to murder.

She tamped down a wave of frustration that she hadn’t learned this information sooner. They’d been too focused on whether someone shared Hadrian’s power and on the blackmail, which had seemed the best motive for murder. And perhaps it still was.

“But she didn’t like Mrs. Frost,” Ellen whispered.

Tilda’s neck prickled just as she saw Mrs. Griswold walk from the staircase hall.

“Ellen, who are you talking to?” Mrs. Griswold approached them. “Ah, Lord Ravenhurst and Miss Wren. How can I help you?”

“We’ve come to ask you some questions about Mr. Mallory and the society,” Tilda replied.

“I’m afraid I don’t have time to speak with you,” Mrs. Griswold said. “Perhaps another time?” She spread her rouged lips into a wide smile, but it did not reach her eyes. In fact, her gaze crackled with anxiety.

Had she heard what Ellen had said about her not liking Mrs. Frost? Tilda didn’t think so, but perhaps Mrs. Griswold had been listening to the conversation from the entrance hall and didn’t like what she’d heard.

“It won’t take but a few minutes,” Tilda said. She had a bad feeling about leaving Ellen just now.

“I don’t have a few minutes,” Mrs. Griswold snapped. “You must excuse me.” She looked to the maid. “Ellen, show them out.”

Ellen moved toward the door as Hadrian stripped his glove away. He stepped forward and snatched Mrs. Griswold’s bare hand.

Gasping, she turned to face him. “My lord, what are you about?”

But Hadrian was seeing a vision—Tilda was certain of it. He released Mrs. Griswold’s hand. “My apologies, but I wanted to stop you from walking away. Miss Wren has questions, and I would like very much for you to answer them. Starting with why you might wish to kill your fellow mediums.”

“I did no such thing!”

Tilda realized that Hadrian must have seen something that made him think Mrs. Griswold had killed the others. Did he know it for certain or only suspect? How she wished she could know!

“You were angry with them,” Hadrian said. “Was it because you had been Mallory’s paramour and couldn’t bear to think of him with anyone else? Perhaps Ward knew of your plan and Hawkins knew what you’d done, so you had to kill them too.”

Mrs. Griswold laughed. “I don’t care whom Lysander takes to his bed. He enjoys women, and that is his prerogative.”

“But you were angry with him,” Hadrian said.

“Why would you think that? I adore Lysander.”

“She was upset that he hadn’t promoted her to premier medium,” Ellen said softly. “She was jealous of the attention and patronage that the premiers received.”

Everyone snapped their attention to the maid. Her shoulders were turned inward, arms straight, as she clasped her hands. She didn’t dare look at Mrs. Griswold, who was gaping at her.

Tilda thought she understood at last. “You killed Ward so you could take his place, and when that didn’t happen, you killed Mrs. Frost.”

Guilt was reflected in Mrs. Griswold aquamarine eyes. And fear.

“However, I don’t see how you could have committed these murders on your own,” Tilda said.

“You would have needed help to hang the bodies. Mr. Edwards certainly appears strong enough, and he has taken the place vacated first by Cyril Ward and then Victor Hawkins. I wonder, will he become the Duchess of Chester’s new medium? ”

“Nigel had nothing to do with it,” Mrs. Griswold cried.

“Then who helped you?” Hadrian asked, and Tilda realized he hadn’t seen Mrs. Griswold’s accomplice, which was too bad. “You could not have done all this alone.”

“That includes killing Harmony Smith,” Tilda said. “I believe you poisoned her with prussic acid. But why take her body to Leicester Square and not levitate her like the others?”

“I would guess it’s because she wasn’t a premier medium,” Ellen said, surprising Tilda with her input. The maid’s eyes were wide as she added, “Mrs. Griswold has a bottle of prussic acid in her bedchamber.”

Mrs. Griswold lunged for Ellen. Tilda opened her reticule to fetch her pistol as Hadrian leapt forward to grasp the medium. He pulled Mrs. Griswold backward as she flailed.

“You prying little wretch!” Mrs. Griswold shrieked.

Tilda pointed her pistol at the medium, not that she would shoot her whilst Hadrian was keeping hold of her, but she hoped the threat would quiet the woman.

“Ellen, please go out to the pavement and send Constable Gibbs inside. Then go to Lord Ravenhurst’s coach and tell his coachman to fetch Detective Inspector Teague from Scotland Yard. You should go with him.”

Ellen dashed from the house, leaving the door ajar in her flight. A moment later, Gibbs rushed in, his face flushed.

“Constable Gibbs, we’ve a murderer for you to put in irons, if you don’t mind.” Tilda inclined her head toward Mrs. Griswold, who continued to struggle in Hadrian’s grip.

Sucking in a breath, Gibbs pulled the handcuffs from where they hung at his waist and moved toward Mrs. Griswold cautiously. “Stop fighting, Mrs. Griswold, or things will go poorly for you.”

Things were going to go poorly for her anyway, Tilda thought as the constable and Hadrian worked together to put the handcuffs around the woman’s wrists.

“Let us go into the parlor to await Detective Inspector Teague,” Tilda suggested, as if they were paying a call and not unmasking a murderer.

Gibbs clasped Mrs. Griswold’s upper arm and guided her into the parlor, where he sat her in a chair and stood beside her. He took his truncheon from his belt and held it as he kept his gaze fixed on the medium.

Hadrian stood next to Tilda as they faced Mrs. Griswold. He withdrew his pistol from his coat and trained it on the medium. “You can put your pistol away, if you like, Tilda.”

Tilda slipped her father’s pistol into her reticule. “You poisoned the other mediums so you could become a premier medium?”

Mrs. Griswold pressed her lips together and glowered at Tilda.