“Perhaps,” said Cassandra, “but I think you must leave me out of it from now on. I do not wish to know all of these things. I am at my limit with it.”
“All right,” said Byron. “If it does offend your delicate sensibilities so strongly—”
“It should offend yours, Jane,” said Cassandra.
“It does,” said Jane. “I’m just as appalled as anyone.”
“And it’s only more clear than ever that I was right and that Mr. Hardy is the murderer,” said Cassandra.
“No, it isn’t,” said Jane. “That’s not clear at all.”
“He is obviously a liar,” said Cassandra.
“No, if he came to steal the wild carrot, then he was telling the truth,” said Byron. “The only question is why he would have chosen this way to get it.”
“We have to speak to him,” said Jane. “I suggested we go to see him after we went to Farnham, and I think we should.”
“Except,” said Byron, “today is the burial for Miss Seward. He likely won’t be available for us to speak to.”
“Today is the burial?” said Cassandra. “Well, what are we doing? We must be there.”
“I don’t think we must,” said Jane. “Certainly, we are not so close to Miss Seward as to be essential at her graveside.”
“Well, we should have been at the funeral,” said Cassandra.
“Perhaps,” said Jane.
“Did we miss it?” said Byron. “What time is it?” He got out his watch. They had left early that morning, for it was about an hour and a half drive to Farnham. They had packed a luncheon, for they did not know how long they would be. “It’s nearly noon.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t said anything about eating,” said Cassandra. “You strike me, my lord, as someone who is interested in keeping to proper mealtimes.”
Byron put away his watch. “Why would you say that? Do I seem particularly fat to you or something?”
“Oh, heavens,” said Cassandra. “You ate us out of biscuits, that is why.”
“Right,” said Byron. “I have a tendency to eat when I’m nervous.” He scratched the back of his head. “Well, does anyone know when the funeral is?”
“No, because we’ve all been preoccupied with this nonsense between the two of you trying to solve a murder,” said Cassandra. “I think you must cease and desist, really. This is all tawdry, and we think she just drank too much laudanum—”
“Now, you are the one who said you thought someone climbed in her window on that ladder,” said Byron. “Are you taking that back?”
“I’m not sure she didn’t deserve it,” said Cassandra. “If she really was taunting Mr. Hardy, parading around in front of him with other men—”
“Only one man, I think,” said Jane. “And I think it was Beaumont, and I think he knew, and I think it was his idea.”
“What?” said Cassandra.
Jane fixed Byron with a glance. “You tell me, my lord, would Mr. Beaumont have been excited at the idea of another man in the room?”
Byron cleared his throat and his cheeks turned pink.
“That’s what I thought,” said Jane. “Here’s what I think. I don’t think Miss Seward was wild at all. I think that she happened to have sway over a certain James Hardy, and I think Beaumont targeted her specifically for that reason.”
“I’ll ask him,” said Byron.
“What are you on about?” said Cassandra. “I am ever so confused right now.”
“Believe me, you don’t wish to know,” said Jane.
