Page 12 of A Whisper in the Shadows

“Of course,” Nevill replied with a laugh. “Well, in my opinion, you will make an excellent addition to the Amicable Society. We’ve just a few formalities. Would you like to come with me and meet the other administrators?”

Hadrian smiled eagerly. “I should be delighted.”

Nevill turned and started toward the private dining room. Hadrian followed the man, and Tilda and Maxwell trailed behind. However, when they reached the doorway, Nevill turned and gave Tilda an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Harwood, but we will be starting shortly. You’ll need to remain here in the common room.”

“I see,” she murmured.

Hadrian could see the curiosity brimming in her gaze and also the disappointment and annoyance that she was to be excluded.

She forced a smile. “I understand.”

Mrs. Draper came from the meeting room and joined her. “Mrs. Harwood, allow me to introduce you to the other wives.” She guided Tilda to a table where several other ladies were seated.

Hadrian was now doubly glad he’d come, for he could report every detail of the meeting to Tilda. He supposed the inspector would have done the same, but Maxwell didn’t know Tilda as Hadrian did. He would not be aware of the information she would hope to learn. Hadrian, however, knew her quite well and would do his best to satisfy her boundless curiosity.

Someone closed the doors behind them, and Mr. Nevill took Hadrian toward the purple-covered table where three other men stood. Maxwell joined them, though he loitered a bit behind.

“We have another potential member,” Nevill told them. “This is Mr. Harwood’s brother-in-law, Mr. Nigel Beck. He works at a gentlemen’s club in the West End. Mr. Harwood, allow me to present Mr. Phelps, the society’s chair, Mr. Furnier, our bursar, and Dr. Giles, our physician.”

Furnier, a small, thin man with a pinched expression did not appear pleased. “We mustn’t rush anything.” He sent Hadrian a look that was even colder than the one Maxwell had delivered earlier. “You should come back next week.”

“I can try.” Hadrian scrubbed his cheek. “However, I’m typically working at this hour.”

“I’m afraid that will not do,” Furnier said. “We expect members will attend meetings as much as possible, and at least once each quarter.”

Hadrian wondered if they actually required that. If they did, it would seem someone would have noticed the member who had died was ill. “Is it a problem if members don’t attend?”

“It is the easiest way to collect the weekly membership fees, as we meet every Monday evening.” Nevill glanced toward a table near the doorway, where a man sat taking payments from members as they entered. He placed the funds in a money box on the table and recorded the deposit in a ledger. “If someone is not able to attend, they typically send their payment along with someone else, so it’s not reallyrequiredthat they attend.” He sent a suffering glance toward Furnier.

“What happens if someone doesn’t make their weekly payment?” Hadrian asked.

Furnier pursed his lips tightly. “We call on them to ensure all is well. However, if two consecutive payments are missed, we issue a written warning of dismissal from the society. After the third missed payment, we remove them from our membership roll.”

“If I can’t attend, perhaps I can send my fee with my brother-in-law.” Hadrian inclined his head toward Maxwell, who’d moved to the rows of chairs that were aligned for the meeting.

“Certainly,” Nevill said.

“What is your income?” Furnier asked, looking harassed and prompting Hadrian to wonder if he ever smiled or appeared pleasant.

“Twenty-five shillings per week.”

Nevill smiled. “That is sufficient. Are you in good health?” He glanced toward the doctor.

“He certainly looks it,” Dr. Giles commented after sweeping his gaze over Hadrian’s person. “What is your age?”

“Thirty,” Hadrian replied.

“Have any of your family died of consumption?” the doctor asked.

“No.”

“Do any of them suffer with gout?” When Hadrian replied in the negative, Dr. Giles rattled off several more diseases, to which Hadrian also said no.

“Are all members subject to this interview?” Hadrian asked.

The chair, Mr. Phelps, fixed his dark-brown eyes on Hadrian. “Of course. Are you prepared to pay the entrance fee this evening?”