Page 35 of A Whisper at Midnight
“Would you like me to tell her?”
“She’ll toss me out.” Clara appeared stricken, almost panicked. “Probably without a reference.”
“I hope not, but if she does, I’ll do my best to help you find a new position.” Tilda sought to soothe the maid but also meant what she said—provided Clara had not been involved in Chambers’ murder. “Will you trust me to help you?”
Clara nodded. “I suppose I don’t have any choice.”
Tilda reached over and touched Clara’s hand, prompting the maid to meet her gaze. “I promise I will do everything I can to make sure you have a position—either here or somewhere else. Perhaps Mrs. Chambers won’t turn you out. It’s not as if you carried on with him after they were wed.”
Hoping to distract the young woman from worrying, Tilda returned to discussing the inquest. “The coroner will also ask you about finding Mr. Chambers this morning. You don’t need to go through that again with me. I’m sure it was most upsetting.”
“It was.” Clara wiped her brow. “I was expecting to find a mess but not like that.” She shuddered.
Tilda’s curiosity got the better of her, as it often did. “What sort of mess were you expecting?”
“Mr. Chambers had been drinking excessively the last several weeks.” Clara wrinkled her nose. “His chamber pot was disgusting.”
“Vomit?” Tilda wanted specifics, as unpleasant as they were.
“And the night soil was just …” Clara made a face. “Forgive me. He was very ill from drink.”
Tilda nodded. “I think I understand. I’m sure you won’t miss that.”
Clara actually smiled. “No, I will not.”
Tilda stood. “A hearty repast and a good night’s sleep will do wonders for you.” She moved toward the door. “I’ll be here tomorrow and will go to the inquest with Mrs. Chambers. If you have more questions for me, you can ask me then.”
“Thank you,” Clara said.
Tilda took her leave, closing the door behind her and hesitating a moment in the corridor. It seemed there were two new suspects: Clara and Martha Farrow. There was also more evidence that Louis Chambers was despicable. He’d preyed on a young retainer in his household. Perhaps two, if Martha Farrow had also warmed his bed.
When a murder victim was loathsome and disliked or even hated by a great many people, the list of those who would be pleased by his death was long.
Tilda had a great deal of work to do.
CHAPTER 8
Hadrian walked into the study and immediately saw the ledger on the desk. However, he ignored it and went straight to the bedchamber, opening the door slowly lest it creak and alert someone he was going into the room.
The chamber was dark, the curtains drawn. It was in much the same condition as it had been that morning. Even the bloodied linens were still on the bed. He supposed that was understandable. The household had undergone a great shock.
Hadrian wasn’t sure how much time he had, so he moved quickly. Well, as fast as he could when he was trying to coax his mind to see a vision. He wished he knew how this bloody power worked. Would it be easier if he knew what he was trying to see? Or at least whose memories he wanted to glimpse?
Perhaps he should think of Beryl, except he didn’t want to see any intimate moments between her and Chambers. Perhaps he ought to think of her being angry, so that he could see their discord instead. That was what he was most interested in.
Except without being able to hear what was being said, would it really be helpful? He thought back to the visions that had been most integral to the case he’d solved with Tilda recently.
It was the visions in which he’d been able to recognize the people who were involved. Then he and Tilda could question them and gain more information. The most helpful vision was when he’d identified the killer, but that had been because there were multiple people present. Hadrian had been able to see the murderer in the memory of another person. He realized that had been the first instance he’d seen the memories of someone who was dead.
Hadrian hadn’t been able to see or feel anything from the corpse they’d found—and Hadrianhadseen that man’s memories when he’d been alive. Hadrian also hadn’t been able to see the memories of Tilda’s grandfather’s cousin who had recently died. What was the difference? Was it because the one man had been dead longer? Or was it that he hadn’t been murdered as the others had been? Hadrian really wished this ability had come with a handbook.
Perhaps the ability would change over time, particularly as Hadrian learned to manage it.Ifhe could learn to do so.
Hadrian went to the bed and touched the headboard. Nothing came to him. He moved around the bed, gliding his hands over the bedclothes, careful to avoid any blood, and the posts as well as the draperies. Still nothing.
He should not have been surprised. Perhaps he wouldn’t see Chambers’ memories because he had very recently died, or he’d been murdered. Or perhaps both.
Pausing at the post where he’d seen the vision from the paramour’s perspective earlier, he pressed his hands to the carved wood. He didn’t particularly want to see memories of her engaged in sexual acts with Chambers, but he couldn’t control that.