Page 24 of A Whisper at Midnight

There were a few ladies in the shop perusing the items. A girl of sixteen or seventeen greeted them with a pretty smile. She was dressed smartly and wore a small, charming hat despite being indoors. Tilda presumed she was wearing something made in the shop.

The girl perused Tilda’s unfashionable gown, one of her brows ticking gently upward. “Welcome to Flanders.”

“Good afternoon,” Tilda said, ignoring the flash of self-awareness that came from knowing her dated wardrobe could not compare with that of her companion—an esteemed earl. Her lack of current fashionable clothing hadn’t ever bothered her much. Until she’d begun moving about with Hadrian. Now she felt out of place. She did not care for the sensation and pushed it away. “Is Mr. Flanders available? We would like to speak with him about a delicate and urgent matter.”

The girl’s brown eyes rounded slightly. “He is my father. I’ll fetch him.” She hurried behind the counter and through a doorway.

“Should I remove my gloves and try to touch something?” Hadrian whispered.

Tilda turned her head toward him. “It might be strange for you to do so. I suppose if you can see an opportunity, you may as well. Though I have to think you’ll see visions from any number of customers.”

“That is certainly possible. Perhaps I’ll have the chance to shake Mr. Flanders’ hand and that may reveal something about Beryl.”

Tilda noted there was another woman working in the shop, at least she appeared to be as she spoke with a pair of women much older than her. They all wore hats, but the younger one didn’t carry a reticule, leading Tilda to believe she was an employee and not a customer.

“Flanders seems to run a very nice shop,” Hadrian observed. “Not that I have much experience with millinery.”

“It’s lovely,” Tilda agreed. “Though I have never been here. Shopping on Regent Street is above my economic ability. Even if it wasn’t, I have never been one to thrive on shopping.”

“You are a most efficient person,” Hadrian observed with a faint smile. “I can’t imagine you buying anything you don’t specifically need.”

“Indeed. Why bother?” she asked with a shrug. Though sometimes need and want were intertwined. One might need something but also want that something to be of a certain quality that one could not afford. Tilda was used to settling. Still, perhaps it would be nice to purchase something at a place like Flanders someday.

Miss Flanders returned and said her father would see them in the private sitting room. She guided them to a doorway beside the counter, opening the door so they could move into a well-appointed room with a settee and several chairs. There was alsoa tall mirror in one corner, and Tilda thought he must use this room for certain customers who wished to shop in privacy.

A man came in through the other door, his narrow features drawn with concern. “Good afternoon, I am Flanders. My daughter said you needed to speak with me. Would you care to sit?”

Tilda and Hadrian exchanged a glance, then sat together on the settee. Mr. Flanders took a chair opposite them, and his daughter lingered near the door she’d closed that led to the shop.

Hadrian looked to Tilda who gave him a slight nod. “I’m Lord Ravenhurst, and this is Miss Wren. We have come on behalf of Mrs. Louis Chambers, our dear friend.” Tilda winced inwardly at the worddear, for that wasn’t remotely true. Still, saying that could help their cause. “I’m sorry to report that her husband has died. We are here to obtain mourning accessories for her.”

Miss Flanders let out a sob before clapping her hand over her mouth. Tears ran down her cheeks as her shoulders shook. Tilda felt sorry for her. She must know Beryl very well.

“How can that be?” Flanders said, aghast. He was not crying, but he looked stricken, his face going pale. “We just saw Mrs. Chambers a few days ago, and all was well. At least, she didn’t mention that her husband was ill.”

Hadrian glanced at Tilda again and she gave him another nod. May as well tell them the truth. It wasn’t a secret, though it was distressing, which was why she hadn’t told the druggist Chambers had been murdered. But the druggist also hadn’t seemed this affected.

“I’m sorry to be indelicate,” Hadrian said gently, casting a sympathetic look toward Miss Flanders. “I’m afraid Mr. Chambers was murdered.”

As Miss Flanders’ sobs grew louder, Mr. Flanders sent her a worried glance. “Please forgive my daughter. She is rather fond of Mrs. Chambers, as she comes in about once each week. We’vecome to know her well. I’m most distraught to hear of this misfortune. How is Mrs. Chambers?”

“In shock, as you can imagine,” Tilda said. “Which is why we’ve offered to take care of certain things for her, such as ensuring she has appropriate mourning accessories.”

Mr. Flanders sniffed. “You are good friends. I know just what she needs. Please allow me to fetch some items from the shop. My daughter can bring tea if you’d like.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Tilda replied. “But thank you for your kindness.”

Nodding, Mr. Flanders stood and then went to his daughter. He whispered something, then dropped a kiss on her head before going into the shop and closing the door behind him.

The simple act of a father consoling his daughter made Tilda’s heart clench. She missed her father so very much. Being without him these past eleven years had been difficult, but she’d managed to persevere. However, seeing Mr. Flanders and his daughter together reminded her of just how much she’d lost. Emotion surged in her chest, and she took a deep breath to keep it at bay.

Hadrian angled himself toward Tilda. “I forgot to ask if I should pay for the items.”

“Mrs. Chambers has an account,” Miss Flanders said as she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Though she hasn’t made a payment in some time, and my father told me just yesterday that we really oughtn’t let her purchase more items without doing so.”

“I can certainly pay for the accessories,” Hadrian said with a comforting smile. “You like Mrs. Chambers a great deal, don’t you?”

Miss Flanders nodded. “She has a wonderful eye for fashion. My mother died a few years ago, and Mrs. Chambers has given me good advice about … womanly things.”