Page 26 of A Whisper in the Shadows

Tilda’s thoughts were so preoccupied that she’d forgotten Mrs. Kilgore would be there.

“We should tell her about the murder,” Maxwell said, his lips pressing together grimly.

“Can you spare the time?” Tilda asked. “If not, I can tell her.”

“I will be a few minutes late to the mercantile house. I should like to tell Mrs. Kilgore about Phelps’s death.”

They hastened to the stairs leading down to the kitchen.

Mrs. Kilgore was at the worktable chopping potatoes. She was in her middle thirties with pale blonde hair and rosy cheeks, heated perhaps from the hearth. Thick blonde brows crested her round brown eyes. She paused in her work.

Inspector Maxwell moved toward the table. “Mrs. Kilgore, allow me to introduce Miss Wren and Lord Ravenhurst.”Maxwell gestured toward Tilda and Hadrian. “Otherwise known as Mrs. Harwood and Mr. Beck.”

“I’m pleased to meet you.” Mrs. Kilgore set the knife down.

“Thank you for being here,” Tilda said. “I appreciate you taking on the role of chaperone.”

“I’m always eager to help the police.”

Maxwell glanced at Tilda. “Miss Wren has news to share.” His tone was slightly ominous.

Tilda didn’t smile, but she did maintain a pleasant expression. “On our way here this morning, Lord Ravenhurst and I walked by the house of the leader of the Amicable Society—Mr. Phelps. He was murdered last night.”

Mrs. Kilgore blinked rapidly. “What happened?”

“We don’t know yet.” Tilda didn’t see the need to detail what theydidknow.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear he’s dead,” Mrs. Kilgore said. “I have my reservations about the society and what they did to my cousin’s family—taking their money and then not paying Gil’s benefit—but I wouldn’t wish ill of the man.”

Maxwell nodded at her. “Inspector Chisholm is assigned to the murder investigation. I expect he will speak with your cousin today.”

Mrs. Kilgore’s lips pursed in a stubborn expression. “Hester won’t have anything to say. She didn’t even know Mr. Phelps. She only dealt with the man who recruited her husband.”

“Timothy Eaton,” Maxwell said.

“Aye.” Mrs. Kilgore picked up the knife, her lip curling with disdain. “Terrible that he took their money, knowing her husband was poorly and likely wouldn’t live long enough to receive his death benefit. She has five children and must now support them on her wages as a seamstress. I hope they don’t think she killed him. How on earth would she find the time?”

“Chisholm will discover the truth,” Maxwell said. “I’ll speak with him later, before I return for dinner. Now, I need to be on my way.” He inclined his head at Tilda before dashing off.

Mrs. Kilgore looked toward Tilda. “I left you the larger bedchamber.”

“You didn’t have to. Thank you.” Tilda smiled at the woman. “After we settle in for a bit, Lord Ravenhurst and I will be going on a few errands. We will be changing our appearances, so don’t be alarmed when we look different.”

“Is this to do with the investigation?” Mrs. Kilgore asked.

“Yes.” Tilda didn’t want to explain, since they were inquiring after Timothy Eaton, and the man had a connection to Mrs. Kilgore’s family—an unpleasant one.

Mrs. Kilgore looked at Hadrian hesitantly. “Will you be here much, my lord?”

“During the day, mostly,” he replied with a charming smile.

“Will you be taking dinner here?” Mrs. Kilgore asked with a touch of uneasiness. Tilda thought she must be nervous, perhaps because Hadrian was an earl.

“Not generally, no. I will be sure to let you know when I plan to be here for dinner.” He spoke with a warm kindness that seemed to put Mrs. Kilgore at ease. “I would hate to cause you any trouble by showing up unplanned.”

Mrs. Kilgore’s apprehension seemed to return as lines gathered between her brows. “Are you sure you want to do that, my lord? I’m not used to cooking for one such as yourself.”

“I am delighted to partake of whatever you make, Mrs. Kilgore. I am sure it will be delicious.” And he gave her another smile that bordered on dazzling. “In fact, perhaps you’d like to prepare tea before we depart on our errands.”