Page 59 of A Whisper at Midnight
Setting her glass down a touch harder than she meant to, Tilda sloshed a bit of wine on her hand. She wiped it away withher napkin. “There is also Oliver Chambers. He wanted to invest in the drapery store, but his brother was possibly standing in his way.”
Hadrian cocked his head. “That seems a flimsy reason to kill one’s brother. But then I can’t think of a good reason to kill anyone, unless it’s to defend oneself—or someone they care about.” He looked directly at Tilda as he added the last part, and she wondered if he was thinking of how he’d fought to defend her from the murderer they’d apprehended with Teague’s help.
They fell silent for a moment as they finished their meals. Hadrian spoke next, saying that there likely wasn’t much to be done tomorrow since it was Sunday.
“I would very much like to speak with Oliver as well as the oldest Chambers brother, as well as Pollard,” Tilda said. “However, I don’t think any of them would care to be bothered on a Sunday.”
Hadrian gave her a wry look. “Probably not. It’s just as well there’s not much to do tomorrow as I will be having tea with my mother for our fortnightly appointment.”
“It’s an ‘appointment’?” Tilda asked with a chuckle.
“It’srequired.” Hadrian exhaled. “Since I was stabbed, she is keen to make sure I am doing well. It is a mother’s responsibility, I suppose.”
Tilda wasn’t sure she agreed. At least, she didn’t think it was a responsibility her own mother would adhere to. “That’s nice that she cares so much.”
“It’s also her opportunity to pester me about marriage again. I’ve an heir to beget, you see.” He leaned forward and whispered as if it were a secret, “I’ve a cousin who can inherit, so it’s really not important.”
Tilda had thought it was vitally important for peers to ensure their legacy, but who was she to question such a thing?
They finished their dinner and prepared to depart. Hadrian held her chair as she rose. “Shall I fetch you for the inquest on Monday?”
She looked over her shoulder at him with a smile. “Yes, thank you.”
Hadrian paid for their meal, and as they made their way to the door, his hand grazed the small of Tilda’s back. A pleasant shiver danced along her spine.
She thought of earlier, when he’d caught her in his arms at the lodging house. When the jolt of fear had passed, she’d become very aware of his strength and heat. The sensation had surpassed comfort and sent her somewhere she’d never been—a place where she yearned for more of his touch. Of his care.
The thought troubled her. She didn’t want that from someone, especially a man. She could comfort and care for herself.
When Hadrian settled himself beside her in the coach, that awareness returned. He was close enough that she could occasionally detect his masculine scent, and it was annoyingly stirring.
It seemed they were becoming closer each time they were together. Was that bad?
Yes.
Their closeness could not move beyond friendship. Tilda wasn’t interested in romance, not that Hadrian was suggesting that. She liked how things were between them, and she would do her best to keep them that way.
Hadrian was pleased that his mother had spent the first part of their fortnightly tea discussing his sisters and their children. Having her attention on them instead of him always put him at ease. Which made him wonder why her desire for him to wed bothered him so much. Was it because he’d tried once already, and the experience had ended disappointingly? He acknowledged that the end of his betrothal to Beryl had soured him. But he also hadn’t spent much time thinking about it. Now that Beryl had reentered his life, he supposed it was natural for him to think about marriage and why he wasn’t pursuing it.
Was he really going to allow what had happened four years ago with Beryl and Chambers to prevent him from taking a wife? And it wasn’t just about fulfilling his duty, which he ought to consider even if he said otherwise. What about the potential for love and a family? Did he really not want that?
“Oh!” his mother said, startling him from his thoughts as he lifted his teacup to his lips. “I can’t believe I didn’t mention this straightaway. I read about Louis Chambers’ death. What a horrid business!”
After swallowing a sip of tea, Hadrian set his cup down on the saucer. “Quite.” He considered telling her he was providing assistance to Beryl, but his mother had been very upset when they’d ended their betrothal. Hadrian didn’t wish to bring any of that up.
“I’m so concerned for Beryl,” his mother went on. “She must be devastated. I will send a note and perhaps call on her when she is feeling up to it.” The dowager countess fixed her blue eyes, which were exactly like Hadrian’s, on him. “You should do the same. I’m sure she’d be pleased to hear from you.”
Damn.If Hadrian didn’t reveal that he was already involved in the investigation and his mother found out, she would beangry with him for keeping that from her. That was a risk he was willing to take. “Er, probably.” Hadrian squirmed in his chair.
“I liked her very much,” his mother went on, clucking her tongue. “I was so disappointed when you didn’t wed. And now look how things have ended up. I’m sure she regrets not marrying you.” She gave Hadrian an expectant look. Was she hoping he would say he felt the same?
“We were not suited,” Hadrian said, glad he hadn’t told her that he’d not only seen Beryl but was a suspect in Louis’s murder.
“I think you were more upset by that dissolution than you ever let on,” his mother said with a probing stare. “Why else would you not have courted or married since? Perhaps when Beryl’s mourning period is over, you can try again.”
Hadrian had picked up his teacup and was relieved he hadn’t taken a drink, for he would have choked on the liquid. Before he could respond to that outrageous suggestion, his butler, Collier, entered the drawing room.
“My lord, Miss Wren has arrived and requests an audience.”