Page 5 of A Whisper at Midnight

Mrs. Chambers’ shoulders twitched. “You’re the wastrel, not me.”

Tilda again saw the woman’s defiance but hoped Mrs. Chambers would not pay a price for it.

Mr. Chambers’ gaze simmered with fury. Tilda noted that he clenched his hands into fists briefly. She was torn between wanting to beat a hasty retreat from the house and not wishing to leave her client alone with her husband.

“I need to return to the shop,” Mr. Chambers bit out. He grimaced briefly and brushed his hand over his abdomen, which Tilda found odd. Then he snapped his attention to Tilda. “I don’t wish to see you here again. There will be no refurbishment.” He stormed out of the study, striding between them and jamming his shoulder against his wife’s as he passed.

Tilda moved to the woman’s side. “Are you all right?”

Mrs. Chambers nodded even as she rubbed her shoulder where he’d bumped into her. “I’m fine. I think he must have had too much to drink again last night. He’s been feeling poorly of late because he indulges too excessively.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

“I can stay for a while if you’d like,” Tilda offered earnestly.

“That won’t be necessary. He’s gone now.”

Tilda frowned. “He will return, however. Do you have somewhere you can stay?” Tilda was truly worried for the woman’s safety. “You could stay at a hotel, even,” Tilda suggested, though it seemed money was an issue given what Chambers had just said. And if he was stealing his wife’s jewelry, that might indicate financial hardship.

“I’ll consider it, thank you.” Mrs. Chambers smiled, but the lines around her mouth revealed the agitation behind it.

“I’ll look in on you tomorrow, if you don’t mind,” Tilda said.

“Thank you.” Mrs. Chambers guided her from the study and to the entrance hall. “I appreciate your help. My situation has become untenable. I can’t continue like this.” Her eyes held an almost wild glint.

“I understand,” Tilda said, hoping to soothe the woman. “We’ll move toward a divorce with due haste. Just try to keep to yourself and be safe.”

As Tilda left the house, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. She would do her best to ensure it did not.

CHAPTER 2

Hadrian Becket, the Earl of Ravenhurst, stepped from his coach and surveyed the house in front of him. It was one of the larger homes on the street, with a pleasing stone façade accented with wrought iron. His former fiancée, now Mrs. Beryl Chambers, had come out well enough, it seemed, despite throwing him over for her current husband, a self-important, arrogant ass if Hadrian had ever met one.

Oddly enough, Hadrian had encountered him last night. One of Hadrian’s colleagues had convinced him to go to his club where Louis Chambers was a member.

Despite the passage of time, Hadrian was still baffled as to why Beryl had preferred Chambers. She’d said she was in love, but Hadrian just couldn’t see any redeeming qualities in the man. He was loud, obnoxious, and utterly unaware of his irritating behavior.

Hadrian had to admit he’d felt a measure of relief after catching her in Chambers’ arms at that ball. Well, following the initial flash of anger and betrayal.

He and Beryl had parted ways, and she’d wed Chambers. Hadrian had moved on. Alone.

But now he was here because she’d sent him a somewhat succinct letter yesterday begging him to call on her today. She’d said she was in dire need of his advice and perhaps assistance. She’d ended it by saying if he’d ever cared for her at all, he would come.

So, here he was. That she had requested his help and he’d later encountered her husband was a curious coincidence.

“What’s that there?” his coachman, Leach, asked in his typical gruff tone. He inclined his head toward a wagon in front of the next house.

“That is the Metropolitan Police,” Hadrian replied with a slight frown. He hoped there was nothing amiss next door.

The sight of the wagon brought Tilda to mind. It had been just a week since he’d last seen such a wagon. The police had taken away the heinous criminal they’d caught after conducting a thorough and rather intense investigation.

He’d seen Tilda a few days ago, but he missed her already. He supposed that was normal since they’d been in each other’s company every day for a couple of weeks. Honestly, it seemed they’d known each other much longer. They’d fallen into a pleasing friendship—odd for a man and a woman—as they’d worked together.

He also missed the fact that she was the only person who knew of the strange new ability he’d acquired after nearly dying two months ago following an attack in which he was stabbed. He’d hit his head on the pavement, and now he saw visions and felt sensations when he touched certain objects or even people. It had proven rather useful in their investigation.

However, it was also quite frustrating as the ability caused Hadrian to suffer painful headaches, and he had no control over whether it worked or how. He could touch an object or a person and feel nothing. Then, ten minutes later, he could touch it or them again and a vision would flicker in his mind.

What he had learned, so far, was that the “gift”—he sometimes thought of it as a curse for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was the potential that he was going mad—did not seem to work with objects or people he knew well. When his valet touched him, Hadrian did not see any visions, nor did he feel any sensations.

It also hadn’t seemed to work with someone who was dead, which he’d surmised after he and Tilda had discovered a corpse. Hadrian had been able to see the man’s memories before but had stopped being able to do so after he’d died.