Page 30 of A Whisper at Midnight
The coach slowed as they approached Beryl’s house.
“You think Chambers sold Beryl’s jewelry to a pawnbroker to gain the funds he needed? If so, I hope that the pawnbroker will see the published list and come forward with information that will help us.”
Us.Hadrian smiled at how they were a team once more.
The coach came to a stop, and Hadrian grabbed the items they’d fetched for Beryl from the opposite seat. He followed Tilda from the coach, and Hadrian noted that a yew wreath dressed with black ribbon had already been placed upon the door of the house.
Oswald greeted them quite soberly. “Mrs. Chambers has a guest at the moment.”
“We’ll wait to speak with her,” Hadrian said.
“This way, if you please.” The butler led them into the parlor they’d occupied earlier in the day.
“Thank you,” Tilda said to the butler before he departed. She waited a moment before turning to Hadrian. “It’s too bad we can’t just go ‘wait’ in Chambers’ bedchamber. I should like to look at it closely myself.”
“What do you hope to find?”
“Any number of things, but a clue as to the identity of his paramour would be most helpful. As would any clues having to do with Beryl’s missing jewelry.” Tilda removed her gloves and tucked them into her reticule. “There, now you can remove your gloves, and it won’t look strange.”
Hadrian set the boxes and sleeping draught on a table, then he removed his gloves. “You don’t think it odd that we would call on someone without our gloves on?”
Tilda shrugged. “Perhaps, but we are ‘dear’ friends of the person upon whom we are calling, aren’t we? Rather, you are anyway.”
“Clever,” Hadrian replied with a chuckle.
Voices carried into the parlor, and both Tilda and Hadrian turned toward the doorway into the entrance hall from whence they’d come. A moment later, Beryl appeared. A gentleman was with her. He was tall, dark-haired, and his nose was rather long.
The man turned his head slightly toward Beryl so that Hadrian saw his profile. Hadrian sucked in a breath and, without thinking, grasped Tilda’s hand.
The contact of her skin against his sent a delicious tremor through him. And it had absolutely nothing to do with a vision. Touching her felt altogether different than that. It was … invigorating.
He was only sorry that the timing wasn’t different, for it was the first time he’d touched her like that, and he wanted to savor it. Instead, he was overcome with a rush of excitement at the identity of the man with Beryl.
Tilda swung her head to look at him, her brows dipping and her eyes bright with curiosity.
“That’s him,” Hadrian whispered. “The man I saw in the vision—in the shop with Pollard. What the devil is he doing here?”
CHAPTER 7
The moment Hadrian clasped Tilda’s hand, her body reacted in a very peculiar manner. She tensed, but it wasn’t due to tension. Anticipation sparked and spread through her. The feel of his bare hand in her bare hand was almost … electric. It also felt shockinglyright. And Tilda wasn’t at all sure what that meant.
Then he’d begun to whisper, his words coming fast and urgent. She heard his excitement and worked to keep her features still. This man with Beryl had been in Hadrian’s vision at Pollard’s shop.
He looked to be about Tilda’s age of twenty-five and was tall, though not as tall as Hadrian, who was a couple inches over six feet. His hair was dark and his nose long, just as Hadrian had described him from the vision he’d seen. But there was also something familiar about the man that Tilda couldn’t quite grasp.
Beryl’s attention fell on Tilda and Hadrian. Her gaze fell to their joined hands. Hadrian released Tilda at precisely the same moment she loosened her grip. She clasped her hands at her waist and tried not to notice that her palm was still tingling where he’d touched her.
“You’ve returned,” Beryl said. She briefly turned her head to the man at her side. “Allow me to present Lord Ravenhurst and Miss Wren.”
“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance,” the man said, though he didn’t smile. “I’m Oliver Chambers. Louis was my older brother.”
That was why he looked familiar. Tilda saw it now—his face was the same shape as his brother’s, and the nose was identical. The younger Chambers had more hair than his brother had possessed, and it waved back from his face. His eyes were also gray instead of brown, and they weren’t as cold. Then again, Oliver Chambers wasn’t currently glowering or spewing insults at anyone.
Chambers went on. “I came to pay my respects to my sister-in-law.”
“That is most kind of you,” Hadrian said. “Please allow us to offer our deepest condolences on the loss of your brother.”
Us? Tilda wasn’t sure why he was speaking on behalf of her. They were a business partnership, not a romantic couple or family or anything else that should provoke him to include her in his sentiments. She wanted to set the disturbance aside, but it continued to needle the back of her mind.