“But you don’t know,” said Byron.
“I do not.”
ON THE WAYback through the tavern, Jane and Byron chatted about what Mr. Hardy had revealed, and they both agreed that it made him a likely suspect for the murder. If he was so hurt by the way Anne had treated him for all those years, he might have done away with her. However, the poison made it seem less likely, they thought, because that pointed to thinking things through and Mr. Hardy had obviously not thought through whatwould happen to the tavern upon Anne’s death. That made it less likely to be him.
They were hoping that Mr. Seward would be in the tavern, too, but he was not, and they were told to seek him at Mr. Eves’s inn just a few doors down.
They collected Mrs. Austen, who was tipsy and red-cheeked, smiling affectionately at Jane and saying, “My daughter, the murder solver!”
“I think we should call ourselves something else,” said Byron. “Maybe, erm, exposers or identifiers?”
“Detectors?” said Jane.
“Murder solver is good,” broke in Mrs. Austen. “Where are we going now?”
“To the inn, to find Mr. Seward,” said Jane.
“Oh, lovely,” said Mrs. Austen. “I shall sit myself down there and have another glass of port.”
“Not in the taproom,” said Jane.
“No, no, of course not in the taproom,” agreed her mother.
All the way down the street, Mrs. Austen kept up a steady stream of chatter, mostly about Jane as a small girl. “She adored Cassandra, you know, thought the sun rose and set in her. She wanted to do everything that Cassandra did. Cassandra didn’t mind it. Who would? It’s lovely to be worshiped in that way. They were so close as girls. I never had to worry a bit about them, because Jane was always following Cassandra around, and Cassandra felt the responsibility of it so deeply that she was quite careful. I thought they’d grow up and get married and have large families. Having grandchildren that your sons give you is one thing, of course, but there’s nothing like when your daughter has children, and neither of mine have.”
“Yes, terribly sorry,” said Jane. “I’ll get right on getting married and having a number of babes. I think I still have a window of three years in which I can still birth babes.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you have ten years,” said Mrs. Austen. “Well, eight, anyway, at least. Maybe when we visit Henry in London you’ll meet someone. It could happen. Just make sure never to tell anyone you’re a novelist.” She said this very loudly.
“You have just told the entire town of Alton,” said Jane.
“Men would not wish to marry a woman who’d done something like that,” said her mother. “When you said you wished to do it, I just knew that you’d given up entirely on ever settling down.”
“I am six and thirty, Mama,” said Jane. “I didn’t give up on it. It gave up on me!” She rounded on Byron. “I’m sure you’re simply loving this conversation. If my jealousy amused you, this must amuse you too.”
“Certainly not,” said Byron. “I suppose I’m understanding it a bit better, why you keep it a secret.”
“You know why!”
“Certainly,” he said. “I do, but I think there are different consequences for women, perhaps.”
They walked into the inn and they left Mrs. Austen to her port, and they asked at the front desk about where they might find Mr. Seward. Armed with the knowledge, they went up the stairs and knocked on the door.
Mr. Seward opened it. “You two.” He did not sound pleased to see them.
“Listen, we know your secret,” said Byron. “And really, I shan’t judge you.” He gave Seward a little smile.
Seward’s face turned white. “I was a boy! I was young! I was just trying things out, and—” He broke off. “Come inside if we’re going to talk about this at length.”
Seward’s room was small, mostly taken up by the bed, but there was a small table and chairs by the fireplace, which wasn’t burning. It was the part of spring where one doesn’t know, fromone day to the next, whether or not one shall need a fire. Today, no fire was needed.
“Why did you say that Mr. Hardy came to you the night of Anne’s death?” said Byron.
Mr. Seward shrugged. “Because he did.”
“Except we know he did not, because we have spoken to the person he was actually with.”
Mr. Seward looked back and forth at them both. “Well, all right, but I did think that perhaps it was all going to go away. Mr. Hardy had not said anything to me in some time. And I didn’t like the idea of not having anyone who could say where I was the night of Anne’s demise, for, in all honesty, I went for a very long walk that night. I was gone for hours, walking in the dark, thinking about all manner of things. I had no notion my life was going to change so dramatically. I thought it would go on the way it had been. I had all manner of plans for the future, for the shipping business, for everything. I thought…” He sighed. “But all that is gone now, and I shall have to go and hide away and ride out this scandal.”
