Page 109 of A Whisper at Midnight

Clara’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Do you mean like the tin of cinnamon biscuits she brought to Mrs. Chambers the other day?”

“Yes, exactly,” Tilda replied.

“Not that I’m aware of.” She blinked, her head tilting briefly. “On second thought, I do recall a tin on his bedside table recently. I can’t recall exactly when. And I didn’t look inside.”

Tilda barely waited for her to finish before asking, “The tin didn’t belong to this household?” Clara shook her head, and Tilda continued, “Where is the tin now?”

Clara shrugged. “I haven’t seen it. I forgot all about it until now.”

“Thank you, Clara.” Tilda inclined her head toward the staircase hall where Beryl had gone upstairs. “You may want tocheck on Mrs. Chambers. She was feeling agitated. We thought she would benefit from a rest.”

“She has been most distraught since returning from Scotland Yard.” Clara’s brow formed deep creases. “She cried all morning after writing a letter to her parents. She didn’t want to ask for their help but decided she had no other choice since it seems there are no funds to run the household. I fear I will be shortly out of a position—and she said as much.”

“It’s possible you’ll be able to accompany Mrs. Chambers to her parents’ house,” Hadrian said optimistically.

A flash of distaste passed over the maid’s features. “I don’t think I would want to go. I do feel badly for Mrs. Chambers, but it has been difficult to work for her since Mr. Chambers was murdered. But I don’t really have a choice. I’ve nowhere else to go whilst looking for a new position, and I’m worried I won’t be able to find one after what happened here.”

Hadrian didn’t want to tell Clara that she was right to be concerned. “Miss Wren and I will make sure you have somewhere to go and that you find a new position.” He glanced toward Tilda who nodded.

“What of the rest of the staff?” Tilda asked. “Are they also concerned about future employment?”

“No. They’ve been at this house through three different sets of tenants. They seem confident that the landlord will keep them on with the property.”

“There is no way you can stay here with them?” Tilda asked.

“I could try, but the new tenants may not require a maid. I can’t risk not finding employment immediately.” Clara’s cheeks reddened. “But I don’t think they really want me to. I confess it’s rather lonely since Martha and Massey left.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Tilda said gently. “We’ll do our best to ensure you’re settled somewhere, Clara. Try not to fret.”

“Thank you.” The maid dipped a curtsey toward Hadrian before hastening to the staircase hall.

Tilda moved into the study, and Hadrian joined her. “I did not see a tin anywhere in these rooms when we searched them.”

“Nor did I.” He put his hands on his hips and surveyed the room. “Should we look again?”

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” She glanced at his hands. “I’m glad you hadn’t yet removed your gloves. I don’t think it’s necessary for you to try to see anything.”

Hadrian went to a cabinet whilst she began with the desk. “Why do you think Mrs. Styles-Rowdon would poison Louis and Beryl?”

“That is what I’d most like to know. I think it’s all but certain she is the poisoner. Let us also assume she was Louis’s paramour. Perhaps she poisoned Beryl because she was jealous.” Finished with the desk, Tilda turned to face him.

“And why did she stop?”

Tilda exhaled. “I’ve no idea. This is most puzzling.” She moved into the bedchamber where they searched everything again. Then they did the same with the dressing room.

“Now what?” Hadrian asked.

“It may be that weshouldquestion Mrs. Styles-Rowdon. Or have Teague do that. At the very least, we should inform him of what we know.”

“Let’s go to Scotland Yard.” Hadrian gestured for her to precede him. They made their way back to the parlor but once again encountered Clara, this time in the entrance hall.

“How is Mrs. Chambers?” Hadrian asked the maid.

“You were right that she is upset.” Clara appeared agitated herself. “She insisted she needed to go out, despite my efforts to convince her to stay. I even suggested she take her sleeping draught. I think the stress of everything has taken a toll.”

Tilda slid a look at Hadrian before addressing Clara. “Where did Mrs. Chambers go?”

“To Mrs. Styles-Rowdon’s.” Clara lifted a shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. At least she went to a friend’s house.”