Page 17 of A Whisper at Midnight

“I’ll let you go first,” Teague said. “Then you can be on your way.” He smiled benignly, but Tilda could tell he was eager for them to go, lest they continue to eavesdrop on his interrogations. Which they’d absolutely done, and which Tilda would do again if given the chance.

“Inspector, do you know when the inquest will be?” Tilda asked. “I imagine you will want Hadrian to be there.”

“He will be summoned,” Teague confirmed. “As will you, since you have information pertaining to Mrs. Chambers seeking a divorce from her husband. I’ve no doubt the coroner will determine Chambers was murdered, and he will conduct an inquest to aid us in solving the crime.”

“Must I go as well?” Mrs. Chambers asked, her voice sounding small, her features creased with concern.

“You will also be summoned,” Teague said. “You are a suspect as well as a witness.”

Mrs. Chambers’ amber-brown eyes rounded, and her face went completely white before she crumpled toward the floor.

CHAPTER 4

Hadrian rushed to catch Beryl before she hit the floor. Sweeping her into his arms, he saw that her lashes were already fluttering.

“Take her to the parlor,” Tilda suggested.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” Teague said, his brows plummeting with concern.

Hadrian continued toward the parlor where he laid Beryl onto the settee, propping a pillow between her head and the arm of the settee. She was still pale, her lips parted and her long, dark lashes curling against her ivory flesh.

He felt badly for her. Not just for losing her husband, which was horrible, but because she’d apparently been mistreated by him. Again, he wondered if she regretted choosing Chambers over Hadrian.

A part of him hoped she did. Her behavior had caused him embarrassment and upset. He found he was upset again, after all this time, especially now that he knew what a blackguard Chambers was. That Beryl had preferred someone like him to Hadrian stung his pride.

He reminded himself that he was pleased with how things had turned out. After seeing them together, he hadn’t wantedto marry her—first out of anger, and then because he realized he hadn’t ever loved her. And apparently love was important to Hadrian.

Before he could follow that thought, Beryl’s eyes fluttered open. It took her a moment to focus on Hadrian. “What happened?”

“You fainted,” Hadrian said.

“Do I need to fetch smelling salts?” Tilda asked as she entered the parlor. Her gaze fell on Beryl. “I suppose not.”

Teague stood behind Tilda, his concern evident in his expression. “Is she all right?”

“She’ll be fine,” Hadrian replied. “We’ll take care of her.”

Visibly relaxing, Teague nodded. “My apologies, Mrs. Chambers. I should have been more circumspect with my speech.”

“Thank you,” Beryl said quietly without looking at Teague. The inspector inclined his head toward Hadrian, then returned to the back of the house.

Beryl worked to sit up. “Does that inspector really think I murdered my husband?”

Hadrian helped her to a sitting position, then he sat down beside her. “He didn’t say that. He said you were a suspect.”

“Try not to fret,” Tilda said. “It is usual for the spouse of a murdered person to be suspected of the crime.”

“That may be, but it is most distressing.” Beryl rubbed her fingers over her furrowed brow. “I didn’t kill Louis.”

“You did want to divorce him, however,” Hadrian said.

Beryl turned her head toward him. “I was going to tell you about that today when you came. I’m so glad you did. I wasn’t sure if you would.”

“Your note conveyed your urgent need.”

“Desperation, you mean,” Beryl said with a trace of humor.

“Why did you write to me of all people?” Hadrian asked.