Page 55 of A Whisper and a Curse (Raven & Wren #3)

“No!” Tilda shook her head, but a smile teased her lips briefly before she quashed it.

“Absolutely not. I can barely afford the people I’ve taken on recently, nor do I have need of them.

But yes, we can endeavor to help them.” She looked back to Mallory.

“Why did they all live in Bedfordbury instead of at the other properties?”

“It’s a bit complicated,” Mallory said, raking his hand through his blond hair. “I came to London with a friend.”

“Roger Grenville,” Hadrian interjected.

Mallory’s eyes glinted with surprised. “You know him?”

“We traveled to Swindon a few days ago and met him,” Tilda said.

“Ah.” Mallory glanced toward the bedchamber. “My father told me you called at his house, but I didn’t realize you met Grenville as well. He will likely be glad to see that I have fallen.”

“He did not support your plans for the society,” Hadrian said tersely.

“No, he did not. We came to London and took lodging in Bedfordbury. That was where we met Mr. and Mrs. Timms, and I came up with the idea for the hollow pedestals that they could fit inside and move the tables during séances.”

Hadrian met Tilda’s gaze. “We were right.”

“You sorted that out?” Mallory asked. “Of course you did. I then found someone to build the tables.”

“Clifton,” Tilda supplied.

“Damn, you are thorough,” he said with obvious admiration. “I went to my father for money to pay for that first table and to obtain an impressive headquarters in order to attract the clientele that would allow us to be successful.”

“You couldn’t very well prey on the Duchess of Chester and others like her from your lodgings in Bedfordbury.” Hadrian didn’t hide his derision.

“No, we could not,” he said ruefully. “I am sorry for what I’ve done, Ravenhurst. Not that I expect you to forgive me.”

“It is not my place to do so,” Hadrian said. “You must accept what you’ve done and find a path forward. My sentiment matters not at all.”

“Would you mind confirming a few things for me?” Tilda asked.

“I think I’ve worked out how you managed all the aspects of the séances, but I’m not certain about the cool breeze that typically accompanies the arrival of the spirits.

Am I right in thinking someone uses a bellows to blow air through a vent? ”

“Exactly.” Mallory nodded with approval. “You are most clever, Miss Wren. It’s a shame I didn’t meet you sooner and employ you for your investigative skills. They could have been most helpful.”

“She would never have accepted such a position,” Hadrian said flatly.

Tilda sent Hadrian a faint smile before responding to Mallory.

“I confess we did wonder whether you may employ an investigator to learn about your clients and patrons, but once we discovered your ability to see memories, it was apparent you would not need to do that.” Tilda paused as she cocked her head.

“What of smells? Mrs. Langdon said she could detect her father’s scent when he supposedly visited her séance. ”

“Another trick,” Mallory replied sheepishly. “Someone found out what her father’s scent had been, and we blew that into the room with the bellows as well.”

Tilda nodded vaguely. “My last question involves the spirts who were conjured. You—as Montrose—said that John Tabor was your grandfather. Is that true?”

Mallory shook his head. “No. John Tabor was pure fabrication.”

“And Mrs. Kelson who attended the séance last night did not actually channel Mrs. Frost,” Tilda noted. “Was she an actor?”

“Yes, we do employ them from time to time as the need arises.”

“Everything you did in the name of society was pure theatre,” Hadrian said with disdain. “Your father thinks you would be a good playwright. Perhaps you should use your time in prison to direct your theatrical senses toward a better purpose.”

“I may do that,” Mallory said softly.

The doctor called for Mallory, and they all returned to the bedchamber. Captain Vale looked much improved. Mrs. Wilson had gone downstairs to make tea.

Upon learning that the captain would move to Cadogan Place to rest, the doctor said he would call on him there the following day. Then he took his leave.

“Will you be there with me, Thaddeus?” the captain asked.

Mallory shook his head. “I’m to be arrested again. But I will ensure there is someone there to care for you.”

“Employ the Henry siblings to do so,” Tilda said. At Mallory’s nod, she looked at the captain. “They are downstairs now. I’ll send them up to meet you.”

“Thank you,” the captain replied with a smile. “Please deliver an invoice for your services to me at your earliest convenience.”

Tilda’s forehead pleated. “I’m not sure that is necessary, Captain. Most of my investigative work occurred before you hired me.”

He met her gaze intently. “You prevented my son from being killed. That is worth a great deal to me. I insist on paying for your services. You decide what is fair, and I’ll decide if I agree.

” There was a glint of humor in his expression, and Hadrian had to stifle a smile. He really did like the captain.

“I’ll do that,” Tilda said. “Thank you.”

Hadrian looked to the captain. “And I must thank you for your … guidance.”

“I hope you’ll let me know if I can ever be of further help. Ours is a very small club, and we must take care of one another.” Captain Vale shifted his gaze to his son. “I trust you will treat our ability with more respect in the future.”

“Yes, Papa.”

Hadrian escorted Tilda from the bedchamber. Graythorpe had arrived and was investigating the bodies.

The coroner did not even look in their direction as they departed the house and made their way to Hadrian’s coach. Leach stood at the door and opened it as they arrived. “All is well?”

“Well enough,” Tilda said. “Thank you again for your assistance, Leach. You have become a vital part of our investigative team. I shall ensure you receive extra payment for your service.”

A faint bit of color flushed in Leach’s cheeks. “That isn’t necessary, Miss Wren.”

“I think it is,” Hadrian said firmly. He clapped Leach on the shoulder. “You were instrumental today.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

Tilda climbed into the coach, and Hadrian followed her after directing Leach to take them to Scotland Yard. He decided to sit on the opposite seat, probably because his conversation with Mallory about whatever might—or might not—be between him and Tilda was still fresh in his mind.

“My apologies,” Tilda said. “I should not have directed Leach.”

“Why not?” Hadrian asked. “As you aptly stated, he is part of the investigative team, and you are the leader.”

She blushed faintly. “I suppose it’s just unusual for me to direct a coachman. I have never employed one or lived in a household that did.” She leaned her head back against the squab. “I’m exhausted, I think.”

“We’ve had a very busy day, what with investigating and avoiding being murdered.”

Tilda smirked at him. “You make light of that?”

“What else can we do?” He pinned her with a serious stare. “I could tell you that I was terrified you would die, but I doubt either of us wants to belabor that.”

“I do not,” she said, shifting her attention to the window. “I was also frightened you would be shot. Again. I am most relieved you were not.”

“What happened to your father’s pistol?” Hadrian asked.

She patted her reticule. “I picked it up when I returned from asking the neighbor to fetch the doctor.” Her brows drew together. “I do not like that it was used against us.”

“That is not your fault,” Hadrian said. “Crocker surprised you. There was no harm done.”

“There would have been if he had more accurate aim.”

Hadrian heard the agitation in her tone and longed to reach out and steady her with his touch. If he could. “I am fine, Tilda.”

She gave him a somewhat tremulous smile. “This time.” Again, she moved her focus away from him. They fell silent for a few minutes before she said, “Can we call on your mother tomorrow, so that I may deliver the results of my investigation?”

“What will those results be?”

“I suppose they are moot since the society is dissolving. However, she may wish to seek out a different medium.” Tilda studied him a moment. “What will you say if she wants to do that?”

Hadrian blew out a breath. “I don’t know.

I find her need to ensure Gabriel is at peace and to believe that he and my father have made peace frustrating.

Last night you suggested that her need to hear from Gabriel comes from regret.

I’ve been considering that, and I think you may be right.

Looking back, I suspect she wasn’t as blind to my father’s behavior as I thought.

I wonder if it wasn’t just too difficult for her to face my father’s transgressions.

Perhaps it was easier for her to pretend all was well in spite of my father. ”

“That makes sense to me,” Tilda replied thoughtfully.

“Sometimes people aren’t able to confront difficulty.

I think my mother is like that to a certain extent.

She never wanted to discuss my father’s death or help me with my grief.

” She paused before adding, “I think there are things I choose to avoid on occasion, particularly regarding my father and how much I miss him.” She shifted uncomfortably.

“It is probably odd that I wouldn’t embrace the chance to speak with him in the spirit realm.

Most daughters would want that, I would think. ”

Hadrian couldn’t help thinking of the things he wasn’t addressing.

Sharing his ability with his mother came to mind, as did the situation between him and Tilda.

Whilst they had settled back into their friendship, the kiss would always linger—at least in his mind—and he didn’t allow himself to fully explore why that was.

“Fear keeps us in check,” he said softly.

“And perhaps from pursuing the truth or even happiness.”

Tilda nodded. “This is an unsettling conversation.” She laughed softly—and nervously—but quickly sobered.

“We could all do with confronting difficult things, I suppose. In our own time, however. Perhaps your mother won’t ever feel comfortable doing so and that is a nettle in her mind.

Communicating with Gabriel might give her solace. ”

Hadrian eyed her. “How are you so clever about everything?”

Tilda laughed. “I am not. Indeed, I would argue I am not particularly wise about familial relationships, but even a clock standing still points in the right place twice each day.”

Now, Hadrian laughed, and it felt rather wonderful after the stress of the last few hours. When he sobered, he said, “You don’t need to pay Leach anything extra. I can do that.”

Tilda held up her hand. “Nonsense. It is an expense of my investigation. Indeed, I should start compensating you for your contributions.”

“Absolutely not,” Hadrian said vehemently. “I won’t accept a shilling from you, so don’t even try.”

“I suppose it isn’t worth arguing about,” she said somewhat unconvincingly, so that he thought this could very well come up again in the future.

“That is correct.” He straightened his coat. “Now, tell me what you plan to share with Clement. I’m not certain I agree that we should support his predatory behavior, but I suppose he was helpful.”

“He was indeed,” Tilda said. “And as I pointed out, he may be again. Information is a valuable resource, and it behooves me to cultivate relationships with those who can provide it.”

“You are a cunning investigator, Tilda. I have to think this case will bring more opportunities to you.”

The anticipatory glint in her green eyes was unmistakable. “I certainly hope so.”