Page 59 of A Whisper in the Shadows (Raven & Wren #4)

But could Tilda make that change? There was an unexpected appeal in his proposal.

He saw her as an equal and valued her as a person with her own plans.

He was also a very good man. Maxwell was kind, handsome, caring, and they shared many of the same principles.

If she wanted to marry, Maxwell would be an excellent match.

Her grandmother would be ecstatic. So much so that she may even consider leaving Marylebone.

But marriage meant surrendering her independence, and Tilda had no desire to do that, no matter how much sense a match with Maxwell might make.

Maxwell put his hand to his head briefly. “I forgot the most important part. I’ve grown to care for you, Miss Wren. I greatly respect your intellect and am drawn to your kindness and warmth. It would make me beyond happy—and proud—to call you my wife.”

His words were incredibly flattering, and they brought her reluctance into sharp relief. Her independence notwithstanding, she did not feel “drawn” to Maxwell in any similar fashion. If anything, his words provoked a startling realization: she was drawn to someone else.

And she’d nearly lost that person, which had jolted her. Tilda had been scared she would lose Hadrian, not just as a partner, but as a vital part of her life. Which he had very much become.

The acknowledgment shook her.

Tilda blinked. She focused on Maxwell across the table. He was attractive and clever, and she liked him immensely. But she didn’t want to marry him.

“You are a wonderful man, Inspector Maxwell. And you will make some lucky woman very happy someday.”

His features fell, and his lips lifted into a sad smile. “However, you are not that woman.”

Tilda shook her head gently. “I’m afraid not. I value my independence far too much, and I’m rather set in my ways and committed to managing my grandmother’s household.” She had a terrible thought. “Does this mean you can’t live at White Alley?” Perhaps he was counting on her to make that work.

“I will still live there,” he said. “I’m sure Mrs. Burley would appreciate the chance to play matchmaker for me.” He smirked, and Tilda was grateful for his humor.

“I know she would. Be careful.” Tilda chuckled.

They rose from the table, and Maxwell looked at her sideways. “Is it truly your independence that is stopping you from accepting my proposal?”

“Yes.” She wouldn’t reveal the rest. She was barely comfortable with acknowledging it herself.

Maxwell nodded. “I just… That is, I wondered if there was perhaps another reason. Or another…person.”

She followed his gaze to Hadrian, who was still in Mrs. Atkins’s clutches—literally, as she was touching his arm.

“No,” Tilda replied, perhaps a tad too quickly.

“We should probably rescue Ravenhurst,” Maxwell said with a laugh. “And then I suppose we’ll say goodbye.” He met her gaze.

“For now,” Tilda said firmly. “I’m confident we’ll meet again. Perhaps we’ll even investigate another case together.”

Maxwell nodded. “I hope so.”

H adrian was relieved when Tilda and Maxwell came to rescue him.

Not just because he was eager to be away from Mrs. Atkins’s fawning.

He’d seen Tilda and Maxwell sitting together with their heads bent toward one another in what appeared to be an intimate conversation.

An irrational fear had lodged in Hadrian’s chest. He worried that things were about to change.

A short while later, they left the pub and dropped Maxwell back at White Alley. Tilda packed her things whilst Hadrian fetched his. Then they said goodbye to Mrs. Kilgore, who would be returning home the following day after ensuring the inspector was well enough to care for himself.

Hadrian had shaken Maxwell’s hand, and Mrs. Kilgore had given Hadrian a surprising hug. She thanked him profusely for helping her cousin, Mrs. Cardy.

As Hadrian escorted Tilda to the end of White Alley, where Leach stood with the coach, he began to relax. Had he thought she may not be coming with him?

Perhaps not that, but he realized he’d been anticipating…something.

They climbed into the coach and sat together on the forward-facing seat. It felt good and familiar to have Tilda beside him. Hadrian stretched his legs out. “I hope our next investigation is a little closer to home.”

“I won’t argue with that,” Tilda said. “I’m sure you were eagerly welcomed back at Westminster today.”

“Yes, though I confess I wasn’t there very long. I visited the orphanage where Timothy Eaton’s sister lives and arranged for her to move to a school in Kent.”

Tilda gaped at him. “You did?”

Hadrian nodded. “I couldn’t rest knowing she was going to a workhouse.”

“You are the kindest man,” Tilda whispered, her gaze warm and her lips curving into a beautiful smile.

Their gazes held a moment before Tilda looked away, and her features straightened.

“I’ve a case I need to work on that I set aside whilst we were assisting Inspector Maxwell.

I’m relieved it only took a week instead of a fortnight. ”

“Honestly, it felt like a month.”

Tilda nodded. “It really did.” She looked over at him. “You’re sure your head is all right?”

“It only hurts if I touch it, so I don’t.”

“And no other headaches? You shook a few hands at the pub and then you shook Maxwell’s hand before we left. No visions or pain?”

“Neither. I don’t always see a vision when I touch someone.” He hadn’t seen one with Mrs. Kilgore either, and her head had nudged his jaw.

“I know, but isn’t that typically with people you know, such as me and your mother?”

“Typically.” Now that Hadrian thought about it, the lack of any vision from the several hands he’d shaken today was a trifle odd. “Perhaps I’m learning to control it more. I didn’t need to see any visions today.”

She sent him a smile. “That would be wonderful, wouldn’t it?”

Her concern for him never failed to infuse him with a sense of joy. It seemed they’d shared a strong moment of connection yesterday after leaving Draper’s lodgings. She’d been frightened for his safety, and he’d sensed a deeper sentiment within her.

Or had he?

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Perhaps that was the source of his unease. His feelings for her had only grown stronger this past week as they’d lived and worked together. He was going to miss her horribly—more than he had before when they’d finished an investigation.

But he couldn’t assume she felt the same. Particularly after he’d seen her talking privately with Maxwell at the Swan and Hoop. Hadrian was overcome with curiosity and—he realized—an unshakeable dread.

Hadrian decided it was best to know the truth rather than imagine what they’d discussed. “I saw you and Maxwell speaking at the pub.”

“Did you?” Tilda brushed an invisible speck from her skirt. “I was going to tell you about it. Maxwell, ah, proposed marriage.”

Whatever Hadrian had expected, it wasn’t that. They hadn’t even been acquainted a fortnight! His gut clenched, and his breath halted in his lungs as he realized she hadn’t revealed her response.

“What did you say?” He worked to draw a deep breath.

“I politely declined, of course.” She arched a brow at him. “Did you think I would accept? You know I value my independence and that I’ve no desire to wed.”

He lifted his hand. “I make no assumptions. I could see where you might consider marriage to an inspector.”

“Yes, you’ve pointed out the things Maxwell and I share in common,” she said wryly. “He did present a compelling argument, and I confess I thought about it for the barest moment. But I can’t surrender my independence.”

That she’d thought about it made Hadrian both uneasy and surprisingly encouraged. If she could consider marriage, even briefly, perhaps she might someday consider it with him.

Was that what he wanted?

He could envision it quite easily. And it was most appealing. It would also be challenging, given their differences. Still, it would be manageable. If they both wanted the same thing.

“I don’t think you’d have to completely surrender your independence to marry,” Hadrian said evenly. “Your husband should know that you need to manage your own life and will see you as a true partner.”

“That was part of Maxwell’s proposal,” Tilda said.

“Then I give him great credit.” Hadrian angled himself toward her. “You still declined?”

She did not look at him, but she clasped her hands briefly before pressing them flat on her lap.

“I realized I would never be drawn to the inspector in the way he said he was drawn to me. I don’t develop close relationships very often or very easily.

” She sent him a nervous look, and Hadrian’s pulse picked up.

He waited to see if she would say more.

Her gaze fixed on the opposite side of the coach. “We have that sort of…closeness. I was very afraid I would lose you, and not just as an investigative partner. I did not want to lose that…closeness.”

Hadrian’s chest filled with hope. “We do have that,” he said softly. “And I don’t want to lose it—or you—either. You’ve become very important to me, Tilda.”

She met his gaze. “And you have to me.” She cleared her throat and looked away more quickly than he would have liked, but he could see that she was struggling with whatever newfound emotions she was feeling.

That made Hadrian a little giddy.

“I’m just glad we can continue as we have been.” She looked over at him. “You still wish to do that?”

“Most definitely.” Hadrian decided he would reveal some of what he was feeling. “I should confess that my jealousy of Maxwell went beyond professional sensibility. And hearing that he wanted to marry you made me…upset. I’m glad you said no.”

She looked at him in surprise. “You felt that strongly?”

He nodded. “I feel quite strongly about you. If I’m honest, I think of the kiss we shared, and I don’t regret it. In fact, I would kiss you again if I knew you were amenable.”

Her lips parted, and she swallowed. “I think of it sometimes too.” Her voice was soft, and Hadrian could see her pulse in her neck.

He sensed her apprehension. “I’m a patient man.”

She exhaled. “Thank you. I need to make sense of things. This past week has been intense, particularly spending so much time with you and Maxwell. There has been little escape.” She sent him an apologetic smile. “Perhaps you could come for tea later this week.”

Hadrian’s stomach flipped, and he had to keep himself from grinning like a fool. “I would be delighted.”

A short while later, they arrived at her grandmother’s house in Marylebone. He walked her to the door and bid her goodnight.

He whistled on his way back to the coach.