Page 37 of A Whisper in the Shadows

“He seemed a bit disagreeable,” Tilda said cautiously, hoping Maxwell wouldn’t think she was overstepping. “Is he always like that?”

“He’s sometimes abrupt in his manner,” Maxwell said. “He did seem curt this evening, but he’s likely had a long day.”

Tilda supposed that was true. Perhaps she was anticipating conflict when there really wasn’t any.

Maxwell narrowed his eyes slightly. “I do wonder if he objects to your position in the investigation. He may havethought you would serve to play a role and not actively participate in making inquiries, as most women would do.”

It made Tilda feel a bit better to hear Maxwell voicing her thoughts—that Chisholm might take issue with working with a female in this manner. “Should I endeavor to remain silent, if possible?”

“Not at all,” Maxwell said quickly. He smiled at her. “Chisholm seemed to become accustomed to you, at least a little. I want him to see that you’re a capable and clever investigator.”

Tilda warmed at his compliments and his open support. “Thank you, Inspector. That is kind of you to say.” She decided this was as good a time as any to seek his approval regarding how she conducted her investigations.

“Would you mind if Lord Ravenhurst and I make inquiries or enact schemes without your directive or permission? I ask because we could have sought out Clement today about interviewing Rippon. We may already have the results of that interview this evening if we’d done so.”

A faint grimace passed over Maxwell’s features. “I do understand your perspective, and you make a good argument. Since I hired you because of your competence and skill, you should be able to conduct this investigation in the best, most efficient way possible. Please proceed at your discretion.”

“Thank you. I will be thoughtful and careful.”

Maxwell smiled. “I’ve no doubt.” He sobered. “However, I don’t want Lord Ravenhurst conducting any investigative business without your—or my—approval and consent. You must supervise his activities.”

Tilda would not share the word “supervise” with Hadrian, though she wasn’t sure if he’d take offense—at least from her. They’d worked together long enough now, with her mostly taking the lead, that she didn’t think he would mind. But ifMaxwell said that to Hadrian, she wondered if he would be affronted.

“Will Ravenhurst mind having to report to you?” Maxwell asked, his tone carrying the barest sardonic lilt.

“Not at all. As I’ve said, we’ve worked together before, butIam the investigator and he assists as needed. Sometimes, it’s quite useful to have an earl with me when I make inquiries.”

Often, in fact. And it wasn’t just his title. Hadrian had proved himself to be a capable investigator. There were also his visions, which had sometimes driven them to important revelations, not that she could share that with Maxwell.

“How fortunate for you,” Maxwell said. “He is not an earl in this case, however. I do hope he remembers that.”

“Certainly.” Tilda felt as though she had to defend Hadrian somewhat. “He did an admirable job of appearing as Nigel Beck during our inquiries today. Lord Ravenhurst has always followed my direction, and he will do so now. I appreciate you trusting me to make decisions about the investigation.”

“I do trust you, Miss Wren.” He smiled at her, his eyes gleaming with appreciation. “Indeed, I admire you greatly.”

Tilda noted a surprising jolt of awareness under his warm regard. She’d only ever felt something similar with Hadrian. On many occasions, in fact. Notably, when he’d kissed her.

No, this wasn’t as strong as that. But it was…something.

Shoving the sensation away, Tilda shook out her shoulders and announced that she would be retiring. She suddenly felt too close in this house and desperately wanted to be alone.

CHAPTER 9

The following morning, Hadrian hesitated outside the door of Number Five White Alley. He carried a basket of items his cook had sent for the pantry, as well as a valise full of his personal items. He’d brought different clothing, along with the glue for his hair pieces. It was early, but the sun was up, not that its light penetrated the narrow alley.

He felt strange just walking into the house without knocking, but since he was supposed to be a resident, it made sense he would do so. He hoped the door wasn’t locked, as he’d failed to obtain a key from Maxwell.

Briefly setting the valise down, he tried the door. Thankfully, it pushed open. Hadrian plucked up the valise and stepped into the entrance hall, then closed the door with his elbow. He had a sudden and very deep appreciation for butlers.

Leaving his valise in the hall, he carried the basket downstairs to the kitchen where, judging from the smell, Mrs. Kilgore was making breakfast.

He greeted her with a smile and set the basket on the end of the worktable. “Good morning. I brought some things for the pantry, including tea.”

She looked over the large basket of goods that included the aforementioned tea, bread, jam, butter, and eggs, among other things, her eyes rounding. “This is most generous of you, my lord.” She sniffed the tea and blinked. “I’ve never smelt tea like that before. Should I make some now?”

“Unless you already have some brewed.” He didn’t want her to do additional work.

“It’s no trouble,” she said. “I’m making eggs and toast for Inspector Maxwell and Miss Wren. Would you like some too?”