“Yes, well, that was upstairs,” said Byron.
“He likely climbed that ladder,” said Betsy. “Why’d you strangle her, milord?”
“She may not have been strangled, actually,” said Byron. “She might have been poisoned. We’re waiting on a surgeon to come and examine her. Anyway, I didn’t do it.”
“Except you don’t remember,” said Jane.
Byron shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers and fixed her with a glare. “I’m getting a bit of an impression that you don’t much like me, Miss Jane.”
“Miss Austen,” she said wearily.
“And it’s a pity, really, because I like you quite a great deal. You’re ever so fascinating, and so shrewd, and quite smart, and I don’t know if I’ve ever met a woman with such a keenness to her. Do you know what I mean by keenness?”
She sighed. “My lord. I do like you. Heaven only knows why, but I do.”
He laughed. “Well. That’s something, then.”
“If that’s all?” said Betsy to Jane.
“Well, I am sorry to keep you if you’re busy,” said Jane, “but I did want to inquire a bit about Mr. Hardy himself. How did he and Miss Seward get on?”
Betsy raised her eyebrows, looking surprised. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, I don’t rightly know, I suppose,” said Jane. “There are rumors about Miss Seward, of course—”
“Everyone keeps mentioning these rumors,” said Lord Byron, “but no one seems to ever express what the rumors are.”
“Well, we all know that Mr. Hardy was instrumental in helping Miss Seward establish herself as the owner of the tavern,” said Jane. “What no one really understands is why he did it.”
“Ah,” said Byron, “I’m beginning to understand the general idea of these rumors.”
“Did they get on?” said Jane. “Were they close?”
“They did,” said Betsy. “They were.” A pause. “Now, if you’re asking me if I think they were involved in that way, then I would say I don’t think so. I think Miss Anne was much less of the sort of woman everyone seems to think she was.”
“But she was at least somewhat that sort of woman?” said Byron, chuckling. “What sort of woman did everyone think she was, anyway?”
“There was someone,” said Betsy. “A man. But only one.”
“And it wasn’t Mr. Hardy,” said Jane.
“No,” said Betsy. “It was Mr. Beaumont.”
“MONSTROUS!” EXCLAIMED JANEas they emerged from the tavern and onto the street outside. “Mr. Beaumont is married and his wife just recently gave birth.”
“If his wife was heavy with child as of late, then all the more reason to seek out other company,” said Byron.
Jane gave him a disgusted look.
Byron shrugged. “I am only saying this is how men behave.”
“Which you know from personal experience.”
“Personally, I do not have a wife,” said Byron.
Jane sighed.
“But I do know Beaumont,” said Byron. “I know him rather well, in fact. Is he here? In Hampshire? At this time of the year?”
