Page 81 of A Whisper at Midnight

A young woman approached them, and Hadrian summoned his most charming smile and demeanor. “May we please speak with Madame Ousset? It’s a matter of some importance.”

The woman, who was beautifully attired, looked Tilda over from bodice to hem. “I can see that. I am not sure Madame Ousset has an appointment today, however.”

Hadrian darted a glance at Tilda, hoping she was not offended by the woman’s perusal and comment. Whilst Tilda’s wardrobe was out of date, it was in good condition. To him, she always looked lovely.

“Perhaps Madame Ousset can find time for the Earl of Ravenhurst,” Hadrian said with the barest hint of a smile.

Bobbing a curtsey, the woman said, “Of course, my lord.” She hurried to the back of the shop, and Hadrian noted a pair of patrons looking in their direction.

“I think they heard you playing your earl card,” Tilda said with a lively look.

“I felt it was necessary,” he said in his defense.

“Oh, I agree. And I am grateful for it in these instances.”

The young woman returned and ushered them to a private sitting room. “Would you care for tea?”

“No, thank you,” Hadrian replied.

After dipping into another curtsey, the woman left.

Tilda looked at the closed door. “I believe she thinks we’re here to purchase a gown for me.”

Hadrian wasn’t sure how to respond. “Does that bother you?”

“Not particularly. My grandmother has been insisting I update my wardrobe, but it simply isn’t in our budget to do so.”

Whilst Hadrian wasn’t aware of the specifics of their financial situation, he’d thought she might be able to purchase a gown or two with the income she’d made from their last investigation along with the funds he’d supplied to her grandmother’s long-lost account. “Perhaps you’ll be able to do so after this investigation.”

“Grandmama says I ought to look like a successful investigator if I want to encourage people to hire me.”

Hadrian thought that argument would make sense to Tilda. “Shouldyou order a gown then?”

She shook her head. “Not here. I could never afford a place such as this.”

Their conversation ended as the door opened, and a woman nearing fifty entered. She wore a simple but elegant day dress, and her mostly dark hair—there were some gray strands hereand there—was swept atop her head and adorned with a gold comb.

“Good afternoon, Lord Ravenhurst,” she said with a curtsey and, as Hadrian had predicted, without a French accent. Her gaze moved to Tilda. “Lady Ravenhurst.”

“Pardon, but I am not Lady Ravenhurst,” Tilda said firmly. “I am Miss Wren. I am a private investigator, and Lord Ravenhurst is my associate. We’d like to speak with you about Joanna Pollard.”

The modiste hesitated as she gave them a dubious look. “Why?”

“We are investigating the murder of Louis Chambers,” Tilda replied.

Madame Ousset’s eyes rounded briefly. “I read about that. I didn’t know him at all, but I knew he was Pollard’s partner in that new store. Did someone really kill him in his bed?”

“Yes,” Tilda replied.

“Do you think the Pollards are responsible?” Madame Ousset asked with a gasp. “I don’t know Pollard well, but he could be somewhat aloof. Joanna, on the other hand, is easily agitated. But to kill someone?” The modiste made a sound as she shook her head.

Hadrian looked to see Tilda’s reaction. She was watching Madame Ousset closely.

“Do you think she is capable of such a thing?” Tilda asked.

“I wouldn’t think so, no.” Madame Ousset pursed her lips. “Though Joanna left my employ some five years ago, and I have not kept in close contact with her. I couldn’t tell you what she is like now.”

Tilda continued to study the modiste. “Why did you not remain close with her?”