“Jealous because he thought that watching Anne was something only he did,” said Byron.
“Oh, so that’s what he convinced this other man to do,” said Jane.
“Oh, no, quite more than that,” said Byron. “Beaumont says that this man was the first man he was close to in that way, if you know what I mean, and do you know who it was?”
And suddenly, Jane did, because it all came crashing together in a way that made sense. “Mr. Seward. Anne’s cousin.”
“Exactly,” said Byron. “Youaresharp, are you not, Miss Jane?” He beamed at her. “So, you see, this is the root of all of it, this is why Mr. Seward wanted the tavern gone. This is the very site of his secret shame.”
“And this is why he says he’ll simply go to India and wait it all out,” said Jane. “It could be far worse than gossip, of course, as I’m sure you know. This sort of thing is a hanging offense.”
“Yes, yes, everyone wants to hang me, do they not?” He spread his hands.
“Well,” said Jane, “does this help us? We know that Mr. Hardy was, in fact, with Mrs. Blethens on the night in question, so he was not with Mr. Seward, as Mr. Seward claimed. Mr.Seward lied about that. But it does seem that Mr. Seward would wish to silence Mr. Hardy, not Anne. Have we uncovered him as the murderer?”
“I am not entirely certain,” said Byron. “But it doesn’t seem to bode well for Seward, does it?”
“What do we do next?” said Jane.
“We must speak to him again,” said Byron. “I think we go and corner him, right now—”
“Right after the burial?” said Jane. “Oh, we can’t dothat.”
“Yes, now. Think, Miss Jane, if he has killed her, he is, even now, faced with the consequences of his actions as the body is buried. The guilt laying upon him would be such that he would be more likely to confess now than any other time.”
“Well, possibly,” said Jane. “But I really must be getting home.” She looked over to where her mother and Cassandra were standing and talking to one of their neighbors. Mrs. Austen kept casting pointed glances over at Jane, and Jane knew she didn’t have time to dally.
“You weren’t swayed by what your sister said earlier, were you?” said Byron. “You’re not going to leave me to solve this murder all on my own because you think it’s too sordid.”
Jane shook her head. “No, I could not give it up, and I have explained this already to Cassandra, but it is as if she did not hear me. Or perhaps, I suppose, she did not understand. But it is going to be more difficult to continue with you, I think.”
“Your family won’t forbid you to see me, or anything like that?”
“No, it isn’t that way. I am a grown woman. I can do as I please. Well, within reason, anyway.”
“And it’s not because of…” He touched his chest. “I don’t do it all the time, and I haven’t done anything with Beaumont recently, and really, it’s been since being on the continent that Ifound anyone interesting, and I have been simply swarmed with women, and I’m not… You think less of me because of it.”
“Oh, my lord, I think very badly of you,” said Jane, smiling. “But it is nothing to do with any one thing. It’s rather all of them, taken together.”
He chuckled, looking away. “All right.”
“I really must go,” she said, and she started towards her mother and Cassandra.
“It did change something between us, though,” said Byron, his voice soft.
She stopped and turned to him. “No, I promise.”
“It did,” he said, looking her over in a way, a very male way, a sort of assessing way, and she should probably hate that, for it reeked of being a prized filly, being assessed like that, but Lord knew, she was only human, and she couldn’t help but feel a bit of a thrill at it. There were not enough men looking assessingly at her in her life, she had to say. “And that’s a bit of a pity.”
“It changed absolutely nothing,” she said, a bit breathless. “For you know that I am appalled by the very suggestion.”
His mouth curved into a smile. “Ah,that, Miss Austen, that.” He adjusted his cravat, grinning at her, his expression loose and pleased.
And then she might have gone on looking at him for even longer, heaven preserve her, but suddenly, they were interrupted by Mrs. Ditterswith, who was the town busybody, and who Jane had earlier said they must interrogate about Miss Seward.
“You, Miss Austen, have not introduced me to this man, who I understand is a bit of a celebrity, here from London, a famous poet.”
“Right, yes, so sorry,” said Jane. “Mrs. Ditterswith, this is Lord Byron. Lord Byron, Mrs. Ditterswith.”
