Page 42 of A Whisper at Midnight

Instead, she responded to her grandmother’s comment about Hadrian. “It is somewhat of a coincidence, yes.” She had not told her grandmother that Hadrian had once been betrothed to Beryl. Rather, she’d offered the explanation that Hadrian had used on several occasions—he and Beryl were old friends.

“Well, I am glad for it,” Grandmama said with great satisfaction. “I like the earl very much. I’m quite looking forward to seeing him again. As is everyone, I think. Look, here’s Mrs. Acorn waiting for his arrival.” She sent the housekeeper, who’d just entered the parlor, a cheeky grin.

“I came to see if you wanted tea,” Mrs. Acorn said, smoothing her hands over her apron.

Tilda hid a smile. She knew everyone in the household liked Hadrian. Just as she also knew that her grandmother and Mrs. Acorn, in particular, hoped there might be something more than a professional partnership between Tilda and Hadrian, despite Tilda assuring them both there was not.

There was friendship and nothing more. Except the recurring feelings of anticipation and excitement Tilda experienced when she thought of him, or the jolts of heat and attraction that shot through her, such as when he’d taken her hand yesterday.

She was rescued from further contemplation by the arrival of his coach outside on the street. “He’s here.”

“I’m coming,” Vaughn called from the entrance hall. The butler was just a year younger than Tilda’s grandmother, but a lifetime of service had hunched his back. However, since he was exceedingly tall, he still towered over most people. He moved more slowly than Grandmama, his shuffling gait now a familiar sound. He worked hard, finding endless things to do to contribute to the household since joining them just a fortnight or so earlier. He’d been butler to Tilda’s grandfather’s cousin, whose murder she and Hadrian had solved. Instead of retirement, he’d made it clear he preferred to continue working. And so he was.

Tilda suspected it wasn’t so much a desire to work but to be a part of something akin to a family, a place where he was needed and appreciated. She could understand that. After her father had died and it was just her and her mother, Tilda hadn’t felt like she belonged. She’d never been as close to her mother, and when she decided to remarry, Tilda had jumped at the chance to move in with her grandmother instead of joining her mother and her new husband in Birmingham. Now she had only to tolerate visits with her mother and stepfather once or twice each year.

“Good morning, Lord Ravenhurst,” Vaughn greeted from the entrance hall. “It’s a delight to see you.”

“I’m very pleased to see you as well, Vaughn,” Hadrian replied. Tilda could hear the warmth in his voice from the parlor. “No lasting ill effects from that knock on your head?”

Vaughn had been the victim of a housebreaker before relocating from his former household to Tilda’s grandmother’s.He’d suffered a mild concussion, but he hadn’t managed to remain in bed for the prescribed week.

“None at all,” Vaughn said proudly.

“Glad to hear it.” Hadrian appeared in the doorway. His gaze landed on Tilda first, and he smiled, then he looked to her grandmother and the housekeeper. “Good morning, ladies. I hope I am not disturbing you too early.”

“Of course not,” Grandmama replied. “We were expecting you.”

Tilda kept from rolling her eyes. Hadrian wasn’t here to see all of them.

“I trust you are doing well?” Hadrian asked. He shifted his gaze to the housekeeper next. “And you, Mrs. Acorn.”

“Yes, thank you, my lord,” Mrs. Acorn murmured with a faint blush.

Tilda realized he had them all under some ridiculous spell that only a handsome member of the peerage could cast. For some reason, this bothered her today.

Or perhaps it wasn’t that at all. Perhaps she was still faintly annoyed from yesterday when she’d walked into Chambers’ study and seen Hadrian and Beryl together. They’d appeared intimate, and Tilda felt as though she were intruding. Seeing them like that had provoked an agitating twist in Tilda’s gut.

Hadrian said he was relieved to have avoided marrying Beryl, but perhaps his sentiments were changing. Tilda did not have time for such ridiculous meanderings in her mind. She needed to focus on the investigation at hand.

She realized Hadrian was chatting idly with her grandmother. Pulling on her gloves, Tilda waited for a break in the conversation, then suggested they should go. She looked to her grandmother. “I am not sure when I will return.”

“I hope all goes well,” Grandmama said. “I won’t worry, especially since you are with his lordship.” She sent a grateful smile to the earl.

Now Tilda did gently roll her eyes. She did not need the earl to protect her, especially not when she was only going to an inquest.

So far. Who knew what the rest of the day would hold? Yesterday had taken them on quite a quest.

Everyone bade goodbye to Hadrian. Tilda’s grandmother encouraged him to return any time for a social call. Hadrian said he would.

Hadrian sat across from her in the coach instead of beside her. Was that because he didn’t want to be close to her? Perhaps thingswerechanging between him and Beryl.

Tilda pushed the irritating thought aside. “I hope you are feeling better today.”

“I am, thank you,” he said with a smile. “I had a much-needed glass of brandy and restorative bath when I returned home. A wonderful dinner and a restful night’s sleep has put me back to rights.”

“Perhaps you should only allow yourself to have one vision per day,” Tilda suggested. She didn’t like him suffering.

“How will I manage that?” he asked with a light laugh. “This ability is beyond my control.”