Page 31 of A Whisper in the Shadows (Raven & Wren #4)

A s 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.”

“That is actually somewhat why we stopped by.” Hadrian glanced at Tilda. “We just came from tea with Mrs. Atkins.”

“I’d heard she invited you,” Nevill said. “I trust you enjoyed yourselves.”

“It was quite pleasant,” Hadrian said, and Tilda silently congratulated his prevarication. “She is most keen to have me in the role of canvasser. As you are aware, she’s offered to pay my salary and reiterated that today. She plans to speak with you about the matter.”

“Mrs. Atkins is always looking for ways to insert herself into the society’s business.” Nevill sounded beleaguered.

Tilda gave him a brief, understanding smile. “Forgive me, but we wondered if Mrs. Atkins’s considerable interest in the society is entirely welcome. She seems very involved for someone who can’t be a member.”

Nevill blew out an exasperated breath. “Phelps allowed her to participate—to a certain extent. I know he wanted her financial support, but he also desired her goodwill. She is a well-respected member of the ward.” He gave them a knowing look. “It’s helpful to have someone like her in your corner.”

“‘Someone like her?’” Hadrian asked, quoting Nevill.

“Someone with money.” Nevill regarded Hadrian as if he should have known that.

“Of course,” Hadrian said smoothly. “I wondered if there was more to it than that—perhaps her passion for the society. I can see where her avid support would also be helpful.”

“I suppose so,” Nevill said. “Though she can be rather invasive about it.”

“She almost seems like a member of the administration,” Tilda noted. “Or perhaps that’s just what she would like to be.”

“Perhaps,” Nevill said thoughtfully. “I can see how you would gain that impression. That’s why Furnier doesn’t care for her. It’s not her place, or anyone who isn’t a member, to be so involved. At least, that’s his argument.”

“So, Furnier won’t be in favor of her paying my salary?” Hadrian asked.

“Not necessarily,” Mr. Nevill replied, lifting a shoulder. “He knows that if we’re to have a canvasser, the funds will need to come from somewhere, since Phelps can no longer pay for it.”

Tilda and Hadrian exchanged another look. Their plan did not include telling Nevill that Mrs. Atkins had been funding Eaton’s salary.

“Did Phelps not leave his money to the Amicable Society?” Tilda asked.

Nevill leaned his hip against the counter. “I’m not sure he had a will.”

“Perhaps the police know,” Hadrian suggested.

“That’s possible,” Nevill said. “I do think they’re trying to locate his relatives. Unfortunately, we are of no help. Phelps never spoke of any.”

“And he was from Reading?” Hadrian asked.

“That’s right.” Nevill cocked his head. “How did you know?”

“Mrs. Atkins mentioned it,” Hadrian replied. “It seemed they were very close.”

“I think she wanted to be.” Nevill snorted.

“But I don’t know that Phelps entirely reciprocated her attentions.

She’s always struck me as a bit lonely since her husband died a few years ago.

And she doesn’t have any children. I think that might be why she’s so preoccupied with the society.

It gives her a purpose. I do agree with her opinion that the Society’s reputation needs rehabilitation,” he added.

“My husband and I find we are already quite dedicated to the society,” Tilda said earnestly. “I look forward to helping plan the picnic, and Albert would like to become more involved. In fact, we discussed with Mrs. Atkins the possibility of him taking Phelps’s place.”

Nevill’s nostrils flared, and his lips parted in surprise. “You discussed that with her?”

Tilda nodded. “Do you think that would be possible?”

Nevill thought a moment, then pushed away from the counter and straightened his shoulders.

“Furnier and I haven’t discussed it much, though he suggested the two of us could manage things on our own.

However, I find him irritating on occasion.

” He looked at them ruefully. “Phelps was a good mediator between us. I’m not sure it’s wise for the society to operate without a third person, but I’ll probably have to convince Furnier that someone ought to take Phelps’s place. ”

Nevill fixed Tilda with a curious stare. “Why is your husband’s interest so great? He’s only just joined.”

Tilda looked down for a brief moment before responding. “He has personal experience with losing members of his family. The cost of the funerals was rather devastating. He would like to save other families from such hardship and heartache.”

“Too many people have experienced that,” Nevill said with a sad shake of his head.

His eyes flickered with a bright emotion, and he suddenly slammed his hand on the counter, startling the clients and the other employee with his physical display.

“My apologies.” He cast a regretful smile toward them before returning his attention to Tilda and Hadrian and speaking in a softer tone.

“We need to reaffirm the Amicable Society’s purpose and entice people to join. ”

“We have work to do to reassure people after all that’s happened,” Hadrian said with a faint grimace.

Nevill pressed his lips together. “There are some people who would like their money returned. They’re worried they won’t receive their benefits, despite there being no indication that they won’t.

The situation with Mrs. Cardy is a simple matter of policy being ignored—and apparently fraud was committed.

” He said the latter as almost an afterthought, which Tilda found perplexing.

“Alas, there’s nothing we can do about that now. ”

“There is something you can do,” Hadrian said insistently but without heat. “You could refund the money to the people who should not have been admitted in the first place.”

Raising his hands, Nevill shrugged. “We don’t even know who those people are.”

“Don’t you have a list of the members who were recruited by Eaton?” Hadrian asked, thinking of the ledger he’d seen in his vision when he’d touched Phelps’s desk. He didn’t know what it recorded specifically, but it was definitely about members. He was certain it was an important clue.

Nevill frowned. “There is a list, but we’ll have to visit every single one of them to ascertain their health.

I suppose you and Dr. Giles could do that, though he will not appreciate having to take that much time away from his work.

He’s trying to establish a practice with another physician, and it’s challenging, because not many people in this area can afford his service.

He’s considered moving west, but he tried that when he was first licensed and was not successful. ”

“That’s unfortunate,” Tilda murmured.

“He doesn’t have the right pedigree,” Nevill said with disgust. “Which is apparently important if one wants to be a physician in certain circles. Where the money is, I should say.” He looked at Hadrian.

“It’s like I told you. Wealth matters. So does position.

Those of us without those privileges know this in our bones. ”

Tilda wondered what Hadrian thought of that. To his credit, his features did not reveal whatever his true reaction might be.

“I do think it will be necessary to identify anyone that needs to be refunded,” Hadrian said. “I suppose they’ll expect the full amount that they paid, which may differ from what the society has a record of. Where is this list you mentioned?”

“I don’t know. Phelps had it.” Nevill threw up his hands. “How are we supposed to come up with the money that Eaton was stealing? This is why I worry the society won’t survive.”

Hadrian nodded. “I understand. There has to be a way we can work things out.”

“Perhaps Mrs. Atkins would make a benevolent donation to cover the amount of money we would need to refund the people who were defrauded,” Tilda suggested.

She wasn’t sure the woman would, based on her apparent lack of compassion for Mrs. Cardy and her children, but perhaps Hadrian could persuade her.

Tilda inwardly cringed at the thought of him having to play on Mrs. Atkins’s interest in him.