Page 2 of A Whisper in the Shadows (Raven & Wren #4)

“That is all well and good, however, it is still highly improper,” Hadrian said.

“Miss Wren is an unmarried woman, and to reside with a gentleman who is not her relative would be an irreparable blemish on her reputation. I am confident she would not wish to risk her future professional prospects by agreeing to such a scheme.”

While Tilda didn’t particularly care about her reputation when it came to marriageability, she absolutely needed to ensure that her professional reputation remained above reproach. It was difficult enough to be a woman investigator.

Still, Tilda could see where it would be most beneficial if she could reside in the City with her pretend husband. It would not only lend credibility to their ruse, but it would also aid her investigation to be in the thick of things.

She looked to Hadrian. “Is there any way I could protect my reputation and still reside in White Alley?”

Hadrian’s lip curled with disdain. His disapproval of her even considering the arrangement was obvious.

Tilda had never felt the difference in their positions so keenly.

Someone of his rank had the expectation—and the privilege—of propriety.

This was a job that would ensure Tilda’s livelihood as well as that of her grandmother and the members of her household, which had grown of late as a result of the first two investigations she’d conducted with Hadrian.

Indeed, it could have swelled even further with the last one, but Tilda had put her foot down.

They were stretched as thinly as possible.

Which was why she could not afford to decline this job, even if she wanted to. And she most certainly did not want to.

“You would require a chaperone,” Hadrian replied. “She would need to be someone above reproach, but I still think it’s a risk you oughtn’t take.”

“Duly noted.” Whilst she desperately wanted to disagree with him, she understood the risk to her professional aspirations. If taking this job meant she may never have another, there would be no point in it.

“We can work around it.” Maxwell gave Tilda a reassuring smile. “You’ll simply pretend to live there, and we will ensure you are home safe and sound in Marylebone every evening.”

“I suppose that must suffice,” Tilda said, though she was disappointed. “You were going to say something before his lordship interrupted you.”

“I was going to say that I need to be accepted for membership in the Amicable Society. An existing member will need to vouch for me.”

“How shall we ensure that happens?” Tilda asked.

“You said ‘we’. Does that mean you agree to assist me?” Maxwell appeared hopeful.

“What compensation are you offering?” Hadrian asked before Tilda could do so, though she had already decided to accept the inspector’s offer.

Tilda gently pursed her lips toward Hadrian. Why was he cross? She wasn’t going to reside in White Alley with Inspector Maxwell, though, in truth, she was still privately trying to work out a way in which she could.

Maxwell again looked toward Tilda when giving his response.

“Twelve shillings per week.” His gaze swept over Tilda.

“I’m afraid I can’t provide reimbursement for your wardrobe.

You must dress as the wife of a clerk earning about thirty shillings a week.

I am hopeful you can find something suitable. ”

“That is not a problem.” Indeed, most of Tilda’s outmoded wardrobe would suffice. She’d only recently been able to afford a few new ensembles from her investigative wages—largely due to what Hadrian had paid her to investigate the first two cases they’d worked on together.

The first had been to solve his attempted murder, and the second was to find the culprit of a murder for which Hadrian had been a suspect.

In truth, Tilda didn’t particularly care to waste money on her wardrobe, but her grandmother had convinced her that dressing well would convey her success as an investigator.

Tilda had been hard-pressed to argue with that.

“I should be glad to assist you,” Tilda added, anticipation bubbling inside her.

“Splendid,” Maxwell said, with a smile that made him rather handsome.

His beard and mustache directed more focus to his eyes, and they glimmered with good humor.

“To answer your question about how we will find an existing member to vouch for me, I expect one of my coworkers at the mercantile house will agree. You and I will play the roles of a couple who wed a year ago and have just moved to the City for my new employment. I thought we could say that you make matchbooks at home. That would allow you to perchance conduct investigations in the neighborhood whilst I am working.”

“I confess I’m impressed you’ve gone to so much trouble for this investigation,” Tilda said.

“This case is very important to Sergeant Kilgore,” Maxwell noted solemnly. “I do find preparation and planning to be tantamount to success.”

Tilda was even more excited to accept this assignment. To work alongside a thoughtful inspector in this manner would be a brilliant experience. She could only hope it would lead to more work with the City of London Police.

“We are of a similar mind, Inspector.” Tilda smiled. “How long do you expect this investigation to take?”

“Sergeant Kilgore has asked that we endeavor to complete our investigation within a fortnight.” Maxwell grimaced faintly. “Indeed, he is insistent that we work as quickly as possible. This scheme is a considerable expense.”

“Is he undertaking it because his wife’s cousin is a potential victim of this fraud?” Hadrian asked.

Maxwell lifted a shoulder. “I can’t say, but I imagine that is a strong reason for his interest in this case.”

“When shall we begin?” Tilda asked.

“I am moving into the house in White Alley tomorrow, but you needn’t come until Monday as there is a meeting of the Amicable Society at the Swan and Hoop in the evening that we will attend, assuming I have sponsorship to join the society, which I anticipate I will.”

Tilda inclined her head. “Certainly. I will arrive early Monday morning before you leave for work.”

“That would be most agreeable.” Maxwell stood. “I’m delighted to be working with you, Miss Wren.”

“Shouldn’t you call me by my alias?”

“Mrs. Harwood,” he said with a smile. “I accepted the clerk position and obtained lodgings as Mr. Albert Harwood. Your given name is up to you, though I doubt we’ll use it much.”

Tilda had risen and so did Hadrian. “I’ll be Ivy.” When she was a child, Tilda’s only female friend had been named Ivy. She’d moved to Bristol when Tilda was eight. “I’m pleased you came to see me. You were prompted by seeing my name in the newspaper?”

“Yes, but I did speak with Inspector Teague about you as well,” Maxwell replied. “He recommended you most highly.”

Teague was the detective inspector Tilda and Hadrian had worked with several times at Scotland Yard. Tilda was delighted that he would recommend her.

“I look forward to working with you.” Tilda offered Maxwell her hand.

Maxwell shook it, then Hadrian thrust his hand toward him as well. “Inspector.”

“My lord.” Maxwell removed his glove to shake Hadrian’s bare hand.

Tilda watched as they shook and wondered if Hadrian was seeing any of the man’s memories.

After suffering a concussion during an attack on his person several months ago, Hadrian had been gifted—or cursed, depending on one’s perception—with the ability to see others’ memories, either by touching that person or an object they had handled.

It had been an incredibly useful skill during their investigations, but the power did not come without turmoil.

The visions caused him headaches that increased in intensity when he experienced several in a short time frame.

It was also confounding, as this ability had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Shockingly, they had recently met a father and a son who possessed the same ability. Their experiences had been most helpful to Hadrian as he learned to navigate the new way in which he perceived the world.

After Inspector Maxwell took his leave, Hadrian turned a rather disgruntled expression on Tilda.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Tilda asked.

“I suppose I wish you’d discussed this scheme with me before accepting Maxwell’s offer.”

“Why would I do so?” Tilda did not appreciate his paternalistic attitude. “I don’t need your permission, Hadrian.”

“Of course not,” he said quickly. He exhaled. “My apologies. Of course, you must accept whatever professional assignment you wish. I do think you are worth far more than twelve shillings per week, however.”

Indeed, Hadrian had paid her quite a bit more than that when he’d hired her on two separate occasions, as had his mother when she’d employed Tilda most recently. “I am accepting this assignment for the experience and the potential opportunity for future work with the City of London Police.”

“But you need the income.” He knew how tight their household finances were. That fact had been an intrinsic part of their first case together. “What good is working with the police if they can’t pay you what you need? Or what you deserve .”

Tilda appreciated his concern—and his unwavering confidence in her abilities. “I am hopeful the pay will increase once I demonstrate my capability.”

He appeared placated by her argument. “I confess I’m greatly disappointed that I will not be part of this investigation.”

“It will be strange conducting it without you.” Tilda realized she was disappointed too. She now understood his irritation during her interview with Maxwell. “I would feel the same if you had been hired and I had not.”

He let out a low, rather humorless laugh. “That is unlikely to happen since my participation in our investigations shall remain anonymous.”

“Will they, though?” Tilda asked. “You worry about my reputation if I took up residence with Maxwell, but what of the inordinate amount of time we spend together during our investigations? Surely people recognize that you call here regularly, and we move about town together quite frequently.”

Mostly, they visited places where no one would account for their presence.

However, they’d once attended a reception at Northumberland House, which had required Tilda to dress as a high-society lady.

They’d also traveled out of London by train on two occasions.

“Don’t you think there are people who have correctly assumed that you have something to do with my investigations? ”

“Perhaps, and I would hope that is all they think,” Hadrian replied with a touch of concern in his gaze.

“I have made it clear to those in my inner circle that I assist you with investigations and that our association is purely professional. I admit there could be those who wonder if there is something else between us. Beyond professional association, I mean.”

Tilda’s breath snagged in her lungs. Just before Maxwell had arrived, there had been a charged moment between her and Hadrian. Their hands had almost touched. She’d been sorry they were interrupted but now reminded herself it was for the best.

They’d shared a kiss several weeks ago, and it caused an awkwardness between them. However, over the span of their last investigation, they’d returned to their easy, warm friendship, and, of course, their mutually satisfying professional partnership.

Still, the specter of something beyond those things hung about, as evidenced by the moment they’d shared before Inspector Maxwell had arrived and now again with Hadrian’s comment regarding how they may be perceived.

Blast. Hadrian was a good friend and a trustworthy, valuable assistant.

She hoped their relationship would continue in that manner.

Anything else would potentially ruin what they had.

Furthermore, Tilda wasn’t interested in romance, and she was completely against marriage.

That wasn’t just because of her business aspirations—her parents’ marriage had been unhappy, and Tilda did not wish to risk the life she currently enjoyed.

She was independent and ran her grandmother’s household.

It was more than a woman could dare hope to attain, and Tilda was quite content.

A husband would ruin everything she’d accomplished and what she hoped to achieve.

“Perhaps you’ve had similar concerns regarding our association,” Hadrian said. “I noted you referred to me as ‘his lordship’ or ‘Ravenhurst’ in front of Maxwell rather than Hadrian.”

“It seemed appropriate.” Tilda hadn’t given it much thought, but Hadrian was likely right.

She hadn’t wanted the inspector to think she and Hadrian were that familiar.

But, of course, they were. A delicate heat fluttered through her, and she decided it was best to move on to a new topic.

“Did you see anything when you shook the inspector’s hand? ”

Hadrian shrugged. “Nothing of import.”

“But you saw something ?” she prodded.

“I saw what seemed to be the interior of a police station. As I said, there was nothing remarkable.”

“Well, we aren’t investigating Inspector Maxwell,” Tilda said with a sigh.

“ I am not investigating anything.” He did still sound a trifle cross or at least disappointed.

Tilda did not like leaving him out, but this wasn’t her investigation to manage. “I will miss working with you,” she said quietly. “I do have other inquiries from potential clients. Perhaps I’ll have need of your assistance when this investigation is concluded.” She gave him a hopeful look.

Hadrian’s expression was enigmatic. “You know where to find me.”

He turned and took his leave. Tilda frowned. She understood that he felt excluded and would hate to be in his position.

However, she was a private investigator, and he was an earl. They’d been fortunate to work on several cases together, with excellent results. That didn’t mean they would always be a partnership.

Tilda hoped this wasn’t the beginning of the end of their association.