Page 46 of A Whisper at Midnight

But Farrow was now dead. Her demise was proving to be a problem for their investigation, and Hadrian had to think that made her death even more interesting, if not suspicious.

Another knock on the door prompted them all to turn. Hadrian moved to answer it once more. This time, it was Beryl’s elegant neighbor, Mrs. Styles-Rowdon. She smiled at Hadrian. “Lord Ravenhurst, how lovely to see you.” She carried a round tin with a landscape on the lid.

“Gillian, the inquest has been postponed until Monday!” Beryl said with some distress.

Mrs. Styles-Rowdon’s features collapsed into a pout. “How stressful.” She moved past Hadrian and gave the tin to Beryl. “It’s good I brought cinnamon biscuits. Why has it been moved?”

Beryl’s features smoothed slightly as she clutched the tin to her chest. “We don’t know.”

“And here, we rushed to alter your gown,” Mrs. Styles-Rowdon said with a tsking sound. “Ah well, you look beautiful anyway, and that is something to be thankful for,” she added with a warm, encouraging smile.

Hadrian was glad Beryl had such a good, supportive friend.

“If we hear why the inquest was postponed, we’ll let you know.” Hadrian suddenly recalled that they hadn’t yet asked for a description of Martha Farrow. “Beryl, can you tell me what Martha Farrow looked like?”

Beryl’s brow creased. “She had blonde hair and was very pretty. When I hired her after marrying Louis, he said she was too beautiful to be a maid. Why did you want to know that?”

Hadrian was certain the woman he’d seen in the vision from the chair was Martha Farrow. And she was probably the maid who’d been in Louis’s bed, then had to scramble beneath it.

“I was only curious,” he said vaguely. “We will take our leave now.”

Beryl gave him a faint smile. “Thank you, Hadrian.”

“Yes, thank you, Lord Ravenhurst,” Mrs. Styles-Rowdon said enthusiastically. “You are a bright light in this dark time.”

Hadrian opened the door for Tilda, and they departed.

As they walked toward his coach, she glanced over at him, murmuring, “A bright light in a dark time.”

“That was a trifle amusing.”

“She was flirting with you, I think,” Tilda said.

“What? No. That would be inappropriate. It’s a … dark time.”

Tilda arched a brow at him, her eyes glinting with a hint of mirth that quickly disappeared as her features sobered. “Do you think Martha Farrow was the maid you saw in your visions?”

“I do.”

“Let us be on our way to Spitalfields.” Tilda pressed her lips together. “I’m not at all sure Martha Farrow’s fall was an accident.”

CHAPTER 10

Flower and Dean Street in Spitalfields was a noisy, run-down street that immediately put Hadrian on alert. He’d known it wasn’t a nice area, but he hadn’t been prepared for the filth and stench.

He looked over at Tilda as the coach slowed. “How do you suppose the daughter of a solicitor who’d worked as a maid in the west end found her way here?”

“Perhaps she didn’t have much money when she left the Chambers’ household. Though, if so, why would she resign in the first place? I wonder if it was not her choice to leave.”

“Everyone in the household said she resigned,” Hadrian noted.

Tilda met his gaze. “Everyone but her and Louis Chambers, neither of whom we can ask.”

“Good point.” Hadrian wondered why they had slowed. He rapped on the roof, and Leach pulled to the side of the road and stopped.

A moment later, the door opened to reveal Leach standing outside the coach.

“Why were we moving so slowly?” Hadrian asked.