“You know where to find him?”
“I think so,” said Jane.
BUT WHEN THEYrode out to Mr. Fields’s house, the servant there informed them that Mr. Fields had been called to the Catterly house out on Mallards Lane.
Jane and Byron discussed it and decided they might as well simply ride out there, and wait until Mr. Fields was finished. Then they’d get him to answer their questions.
On the ride out to the Catterly house, who should they run into but Mr. Fields, riding away from the house.
Jane and Byron dismounted and waved Mr. Fields over. He dismounted as well. They made their way over to the side of the road to speak.
“We were looking for you,” said Jane. “It’s quite convenient to run into you here.”
“Do you need me to accompany you somewhere, Miss Austen?” said Mr. Fields. “I was going back home for something to eat, but if it’s urgent, I shall forgo that and do what I can immediately, of course.”
“Oh, no, no, it’s nothing like that,” said Jane.
“You’d best introduce me,” said Byron. “Or, I suppose I’ll introduce myself. We are not in any formal social situation, after all. Who cares about the rules of propriety? I am Byron. Author ofChilde Harold’s Pilgrimage.”
“Oh,” said Mr. Fields. “Yes, I’ve heard of that, actually. Really? You wrote that?”
“I did,” said Byron.
“I haven’t read it,” said Mr. Fields. “But everyone who is reading it seems to, um, to think it’s very good.” He looked down at his feet as he said this, as if it was not actually true, that people had been insulting the poem.
Jane smirked and hid it with her hand. “Really, we’re here to discuss Miss Seward.”
“Miss Seward,” said Mr. Fields.
“Yes,” said Jane. “We heard you went to examine her remains yesterday. We wondered, in your professional opinion, what killed her?”
“Laudanum overdose,” said Mr. Fields.
“Oh,” said Jane softly. “I see.”
“I couldn’t find the laudanum itself,” said Mr. Fields. “But I’ve seen it many times. Blue lips, blue fingertips, no other sign. The body just shuts down if there’s too much of the drug. The opium eater stops breathing, and they simply expire. It’s notentirely common, but I’m afraid it’s not rare. She shouldn’t have had so much. I tell people that it’s not something to be trifled with, you know? You have people just taking a bit for headaches and sprains or to get to sleep at night, and I don’t hold with that. It’s too dangerous, really.”
“You think it was an accident, then?” said Jane.
“Likely,” said Mr. Fields.
“Right,” said Byron.
“Right,” said Jane.
They both blinked at each other.
Mr. Fields looked back and forth between them. “Why are you interested?”
“Well, we thought she had been, um, murdered,” said Jane.
“Ah,” said Mr. Fields. “Well, it’s possible, of course. I’ve heard of people doing it, administering a lethal dose of opium. It’s one of the easier poisons to get one’s hands on, actually.”
“Possible,” said Jane. “But you think she probably did it to herself on accident.”
“Having not found the laundanum bottle, it really is difficult to say. She must have drunk the laudanum and then gone up to bed,” said Mr. Fields. “If she had taken too much, it may have had a delay in onset. Or it may even have been that she began to feel the effects and decided to lie down because of them. So, there’s no way to be sure. I imagine she keeps a bottle down in the tavern somewhere.”
“Yes, just so,” said Jane.
