Page 62 of A Whisper in the Shadows

They walked in silence a few minutes before Tilda touched his arm. “Would you mind slowing down?”

Hadrian stopped altogether and faced her momentarily. “Apologies. I fear I am in a hurry to move away from Mrs. Atkins.”

“I do understand,” Tilda said as they started walking at a more normal pace. “She thinks rather highly of herself.”

“Indeed.” Hadrian’s shoulder twitched as he recalled the many uncomfortable moments of their interview with the woman. “She has quite a vision for the society. And she spoke as if she were jointly managing things with Phelps.”

“I noticed that too,” Tilda said. “What did you see when you touched the milk jug?”

“How did you know I saw something?” Hadrian was genuinely curious. He knew he hadn’t touched his head, despite being in pain for a time.

“Your expression went blank. It’s why I elbowed you. I was afraid Mrs. Atkins would notice.”

Hadrian nodded. “That is good to know.” Often when he had visions, he was not in a situation where others might be observing him. “I saw Phelps in Mrs. Atkins’s parlor with her. They were cozied up together on the settee. His hand was on her thigh. She seemed quite pleased about it.”

“I see.” Tilda’s eyes rounded briefly. “That certainly gives new meaning to what she said about Phelps being grateful to her. Goodness, perhaps she will expect something from you for paying your salary.” Tilda made a face of distaste.

“I considered the same thing, and that is precisely how I feel about it,” Hadrian said. “I did not have the sense she would expect that from your husband,” he added wryly.

“She did not seem as excited to hire him as she was you.” Tilda smiled sardonically. “Likely because he’s married. I do think Maxwell may have to try to obtain the position without a salary, just as Nevill and Furnier do.” She glanced over at Hadrian. “How’s your head?”

“It hurt at first, but the ache is gone now. I find the pain with visions doesn’t last as long as it once did.”

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Tilda said enthusiastically.

“I’ll walk you back to White Alley, and then I’ll head to the church to speak with Leach.” Hadrian had arranged for the coachman to wait for him each afternoon for one hour at the St. Mary Aldermary Church to receive any directions. Along with asking for the supplies, Hadrian also planned to direct Leach to have his secretary deliver money to Mrs. Cardy from an anonymous benefactor. And he would send her the name of a doctor to whom she could take her sick child—as well as inform her that the expense would be paid.

Hadrian knew he couldn’t solve every problem, but he tried to help where he could.

Tilda paused as they approached Moorgate. “Nevill’s shop is just down Moorgate, isn’t it?”

“I believe so.” Hadrian pivoted toward her. “Are you suggesting we stop in?”

“I can think of several things I’d like to learn from him, starting with what Mrs. Atkins’s role really is with the society.” Tilda gave him a sly look. “And I’ve just the plan for us to find out. I’ll tell you about it on the way.”

CHAPTER 14

As they walked to Nevill’s tailoring shop, Tilda briefed Hadrian on how she wanted to approach their discussion with the society’s most amenable administrator. He seemed to possess a gregarious personality, so it hopefully wouldn’t take much to persuade him to share information—without him realizing he was revealing important details helpful to an investigation into the Amicable Society.

The shop was relatively small, especially compared to what Hadrian was likely used to on Bond Street, but it was well stocked. There were a few customers inside, one of whom stood at a counter speaking to a young employee behind it. The other patrons browsed the cases and displays.

Tilda glanced about the shop. “I don’t see Mr. Nevill.”

“Nor do I,” said Hadrian.

They walked toward the counter, passing a display with shirts. Hadrian inspected one briefly. “This is very fine work. The stitching rivals anything I’ve seen at the club.”

Tilda silently applauded him for staying in character. Nigel Beck would have seen finer clothing in the course of his employment, whilst Lord Ravenhurst certainly possessed a dressing chamber full of Bond Street finery.

They continued to the counter and stood for a moment. Tilda waited to catch the young employee’s attention.

A door to the back of the shop opened, and Mr. Nevill stepped through. His gaze landed on Tilda and Hadrian and lit with recognition. He walked behind the counter to where they stood. “Good afternoon, Mr. Beck, Mrs. Harwood, what a surprise to see you here.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly at Hadrian. “Are you not working at the club today?”

“Later tonight. For as long as I’ll be employed there,” Hadrian added. “I’m hoping to have a change in profession.” He gave Mr. Nevill a hopeful look.

“As the Amicable Society canvasser,” Mr. Nevill said with a nod. “I must say, I’m in favor of that, but I need to convince Furnier.”