“I am ever so appreciative,” said Byron. “I shall be quite certain to do everything in my power to clear my name, and it’s only possible because of people like you offering me their confidences and their important information.”
Jane fought the urge to roll her eyes again. She was not jealous of those women, but she found the way he spoke to them made her furious for some reason.
At this point, Mrs. Austen came out of the house and waved Jane over.
“Oh, there’s my mother,” said Jane. “I should likely go to her.”
“Well, come back,” said Byron. “We need to speak to Mr. Hardy and Mr. Seward, get their responses to everything we’ve uncovered. And it would be good to speak to Mr. Wellings, I think, in light of this business about the ladder.”
“Right, of course,” said Jane. “I shall simply tell her that I am off with you for a bit, then.”
Mrs. Austen wasn’t pleased. “You’re going to make me walk home alone? Truly?”
“Well, if I walk with you, I’m going to have to turn round immediately and walk straight back to town, and that seems pointless,” said Jane.
“I wouldn’t have come all the way down here if I knew you were going to abandon me,” said Mrs. Austen. “Couldn’t I come along while you ask questions?”
Jane cleared her throat. “I… it’s all…”
“Is it as Cassandra says, entirely indelicate?”
Jane felt her face heat up. “Oh, well, there are… things… but really, I think that we’re going to wish for the people we visit to feel safe opening up to us, and I don’t know if introducing another person at this juncture will be likely to make them loosen their tongues.”
“You could just say that you don’t want your old mother along,” said Mrs. Austen.
“That is not what I’m saying!” protested Jane.
“Well, then, how about I come along and I simply stay out of the way while you are asking questions of the people?” said Mrs. Austen.
Jane sighed. But what was she to do? She marched back over to Byron, plastered a smile on her face, and said, “My mother is coming along.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THEY ARRIVED ATthe tavern and left Mrs. Austen sitting in the front room by the window, which she pronounced perfectly respectable, considering it was afternoon and she was visible through the window. She asked for a glass of port and it was brought for her. She seemed cheery and Jane wondered if her mother simply got bored and wished to leave the house from time to time. It was true that the life Mrs. Austen led now was a great deal less eventful than the life she used to live, being a pastor’s wife, raising all her children, helping to run a school for boys, and having many responsibilities.
They sought Mr. Hardy and were directed by several servants to find him behind the tavern, outside, staring up at the window which belonged to Anne’s bedroom.
“Ah,” he said when he saw them, “it’s you two. I was wondering when you would both turn back up.”
“We have spoken to Mrs. Blethens,” said Byron by way of greeting, which was not how Jane would have done it, she supposed, but it did get right down to the heart of the matter.
“Have you, then.” It wasn’t a question. Mr. Hardy was still looking up at the window.
“She told us a number of very interesting things,” said Byron, “some of which I’ve had confirmed with Mr. Beaumont, and sonow, it really comes down to a few things we need you to clear up.”
Mr. Hardy glanced at them both and then back at the window. “If you know that I was with Amelia that night, you know I wasn’t here, do you not? You know that I couldn’t have hurt Anne. So, does the rest of it matter?”
“It does, because we need to understand everything,” said Jane.
“Or because the two of you are gleefully stirring up everything in town and unearthing all manner of things you oughtn’t have unearthed,” said Mr. Hardy.
“Mr. Seward, the new owner, says you were with him the night that Anne died,” said Byron.
“Well, you know that I wasn’t,” said Mr. Hardy.
“Any idea why he’d lie?” said Byron.
“None.”
