Page 64 of A Whisper at Midnight
Finding herself in a small sitting room, she saw that the gentleman Hadrian had pointed out was standing at a bar speaking with a liveried employee. Tilda milled about the room for a moment while watching him. The employee gave him a drink, and Tilda moved to join him.
“What are you drinking?” she asked.
The gentleman, who was a few inches taller than Tilda, looked down at her with dark-brown eyes glinting with curiosity. “Scotch whisky.”
Tilda looked to the employee. “I’ll have the same. I’m here with Sir Godfrey.” Hadrian had explained that anything they ate or drank would be added to his account. Tilda didn’t like having someone else pay for things, but Hadrian assured her Sir Godfrey was happy to do so. Furthermore, he was more than financially able.
“I saw you with Ravenhurst,” the man said, his tone as probing as his gaze.
Happy to use his curiosity to her advantage, Tilda nodded. “Are you surprised to see him here after the other night?”
“Were you here?” the man asked. “That was quite a scene.”
“I was not, but I heard about it,” Tilda replied as she accepted her drink. She thanked the employee and turned away from him toward the room. “I’m Taylor,” she said to the man.
“Kirkham,” he replied with a nod.
They moved away from the bar. “You know Ravenhurst well then?” Kirkham asked.
“Well enough. Do you know him?”
Kirkham shook his head. “Not personally. I know Chambers though.” He grimaced. “Knewhim. Can’t believe he was killed not long after that. Makes one wonder about Ravenhurst.”
Tilda tamped down the flash of ire the man’s ridiculous comment provoked. “Wonder what?” She wanted to hear him say it.
“You know.” Kirkham gave her a meaningful look. “Perhaps he was angry enough at the way Chambers embarrassed him that he decided to ensure it never happened again.”
“I didn’t think he was particularly embarrassed about the other night. It was more that he was confused as to why Chambers had behaved so obnoxiously toward him.”
“It’s not necessarily what happened the other night,” Kirkham said as if he were imparting a secret. “But what happened a few years back—when Chambers stole Ravenhurst’s fiancée.”
Tilda shrugged. “Ravenhurst wasn’t too troubled by it, actually. He didn’t bear any ill will toward Chambers. In fact, he found Chambers’ vitriol toward him quite puzzling, if not irrational. As you pointed out, Ravenhurst is the one who ought to have been angry.”
Kirkham nodded slowly, then sipped his whisky, seeming to ponder what Tilda said. “You’re right that Ravenhurst didn’t seem upset the other night. He simply walked away. Chambers,however, went on and on about what a sneaky bastard the earl was, though now that I think of it, he didn’t offer any examples.”
“You’ve no idea why Chambers despised Ravenhurst? His grudge seems odd.”
“I haven’t a clue, but you could ask his brother, Daniel. He’s also a member, though we haven’t seen him since Louis died,” Kirkham said. He gave her a somewhat sheepish look. “In all honesty, Chambers—Louis, I mean—was a blowhard. We found him entertaining, but only in small amounts. He could become quite tiresome, particularly with his bragging about women. I felt sorry for his wife because he never once mentioned her. Though he often commented that marriage was a bore.”
What an ass, Tilda thought.
She finally took a sip of the whisky. She had to fight to hide her reaction. She hadn’t ever had the fiery brew, and it burned a path down her throat. Her eyes stung for a moment.
When she could speak, she said, “I’d heard of his reputation with women. Did he tell you about his current mistress?” Tilda hoped she wasn’t walking headfirst into a corner. She was all but certain he had a paramour.
“Oh, yes,” Kirkham rolled his eyes. “He spoke of her endlessly. She is apparently ‘the most beautiful and intoxicating female to ever draw breath.’ He would tell us about the gifts he bought her—perfume, jewelry, a fur-lined cloak. He even showed us a set of rubies before he gave them to her.”
The mention of perfume had made Tilda’s breath catch, then the rubies had stalled it completely. “A set, as in a necklace, bracelet, and earrings?”
Kirkham sipped his whisky again. “Yes. Looked as though it had belonged in his family perhaps. The case was older and a bit worn.”
Tilda was certain he was talking about the first pieces of jewelry that had disappeared from Beryl’s chamber. “Makes onewonder who the woman is.” Tilda held her breath again, waiting to see if Kirkham might know.
“He never said. But last Thursday he mentioned that he may be divorcing his wife, which led us to believe that whoever the mistress is, he could marry her. Why else would he bother with a divorce?”
Indeed.
Tilda lifted her glass to her mouth as though she were going to take a sip but only pretended to. A small bit of the whisky wetted her lips, and she gingerly licked it off. The flavor wasn’t terrible. She just wasn’t going to take another drink here where she might choke on its heat.