Page 85 of A Whisper at Midnight

The coach arrived in Catherine Place, where several other coaches were queued or parked. They stopped a few houses away from the Chambers’ and climbed out. The day was gray and dreary, perfectly suited for a funeral.

Hadrian offered Tilda his arm, and she took it without hesitation, thankful the butterflies from earlier had moved on. As they approached the house, she saw the milliner, Flanders, and his daughter enter.

The butler, Oswald, greeted them somberly. Chambers was on display in his coffin in the parlor whilst refreshments had been laid out in the dining room. There was not enough room foreveryone to sit, for there were quite a few people in attendance. Tilda saw Louis’s brothers standing near the coffin.

“I’d prefer to avoid the parlor for now,” Tilda murmured. She longed to speak with Daniel Chambers, but that would not happen today. Thankfully, there were other avenues to pursue.

“The dining room then?” Hadrian suggested.

“Wherever we may find the housekeeper—ifwe can find her. I realize today is not the best day to query any of the retainers, but I would like to ask them about how a killer may have accessed the house.”

The corner of his mouth ticked up. “I expected nothing less than for you to use the funeral as an opportunity for further investigation.”

“That is what you’re paying me for,” she said wryly.

They walked through the dining room but did not see the housekeeper. Clara was busy ensuring the buffet remained presentable.

Tilda approached the maid with a smile. “Good afternoon, Clara. I’m sure you are all very busy today, but I am hoping to speak with you and the other retainers later, if possible.”

“We are busy, Miss Wren, but I always wish to be helpful.”

Oliver Chambers appeared in the dining room to announce that the funeral was starting.

Hadrian escorted Tilda to the parlor where the furniture was arranged so that the family was seated near the coffin whilst the rector spoke. Tilda could only see them from the back and in profile, depending on how they held their head, but she recognized Daniel Chambers. He was flanked by women—one older and one who looked to be near his age. His wife and mother, perhaps? Oliver sat down next to the older woman, and Beryl was on his other side. Mrs. Styles-Rowdon sat beside Beryl.

“Did no one from Beryl’s family come?” Tilda whispered to Hadrian.

He glanced about the room. “Not that I can see.”

“How sad.” Tilda also saw the Pollards, Mr. Flanders and his daughter, and even Massey was present, though he stood in a corner as he’d done at the inquest.

The rector’s remarks were thankfully short, after which Daniel Chambers rose to deliver a eulogy. When he was finished, he announced they would convey the body to the cemetery in a while.

“Will you be going?” Tilda asked Hadrian as people began to talk and mill about once more.

“I don’t think so, unless you’d find it helpful to your investigation?”

Tilda considered that for a moment. What was the likelihood Hadrian would observe something useful? She doubted he’d have a chance to speak with Daniel Chambers about Louis’s finances.

“I can’t think of a reason for you to go.” Tilda saw Beryl looking toward Hadrian. “I think Beryl wishes to speak with you,” she said softly.

“I see that.” He pressed his lips together, then looked to Tilda. “Pardon me for a moment or two.”

Tilda watched as he threaded his way to Beryl. She hugged him and said something. When they parted, he guided her from the parlor, past where Tilda was standing just inside the doorway. She exchanged a look with him as they left.

Curious, Tilda stepped into the entrance hall and watched them walk toward the back of the house. They stepped into the sitting room and moved just out of view.

Tilda followed their trail, progressing slowly, until she was in a position to see them. Her vantage point allowed a clear view ofBeryl standing on her toes, her hands on Hadrian’s arms, as she pressed a kiss to the corner of Hadrian’s mouth.

Her breath trapped in her lungs, Tilda tensed. Hadrian stepped back from Beryl, his expression grim. He said something, then smiled faintly as he shook his head. Beryl nodded, and they spoke for another moment before she turned and departed.

Tilda quickly spun about and hurried into the dining room lest she be caught spying. Whilst she couldn’t say for certain what had happened, it appeared as though Hadrian had rebuffed Beryl’s advances—whatever they were.

Though it was none of Tilda’s affair, she could not deny that she was glad to see his reaction. Beryl had treated him poorly in the past, and he didn’t deserve the grief his association with her was now causing. Tilda was just glad she was here to help him.

The protectiveness she felt for him jarred her. But why should it? They were friends, and they’d demonstrated they cared for one another during their last investigation. Of course, Tilda didn’t want him to be hurt. That was what friends did for one another.

Hadrian watched Beryl walk away and in doing so caught sight of Tilda hastening into the dining room. Had she seen Beryl kiss him? He hoped not.