“You’ll see soon enough.”
Mira tipped her head to the side. “I thought we weren’t going to have secrets between us.”
He held out for about two seconds. “All right. I suppose it is only fair. Consider what Miss Risewell told you yesterday.”
“About her dislike of her suitors?” Mira looked down, mulling over the conversation. “Except for one.” She turned to him, the pieces falling into place. “She said he wasn’t a proper suitor. Which means her family either doesn’t know about him or doesn’t approve.”
“In which case,” Byron said, “she would need money to elope.”
“That explains the necklace.”
“If her paramour is who I think it is, it explains quite a bit.”
Mira worried at her lip. “It would have to be someone below her station. But the only person I can think—”
The constable snorted in his sleep and the two fell silentuntil it was clear he wouldn’t be waking.
“Could it be Rudy Foster?” Mira whispered.
“That’s the conclusion I’ve come to. I don’t have all the details sorted yet. One scenario is they were going to run away together that night. Hence the horse. But Silas Treadway caught them. There was a bit of a scuffle, one of them drew a knife, and Silas fell. Not wanting to draw suspicion to themselves by disappearing or being found with the jewels, they stashed most of the ill-gotten goods on his person and pretended like nothing had happened.”
Mira shook her head. “No, that can’t be right. Otherwise, Theresia wouldn’t have been so shocked that morning. And she certainly wouldn’t have been so open with me when we spoke in the stables. And what about the other burglaries? Were they stealing jewelry from other houses in order to fund their escape?”
“Good questions, all of them. The only thing I know is the answers lie with Rudy Foster, and so to Rudy Foster we must go.”
Mira averted her gaze. “If it is true, I feel sorry for them. It is hard enough gaining familial approval without a class divide.”
He looked over at her. “You know that from experience now, don’t you?”
She nodded.
“Is it just Mary, or the lot of them?”
Mira traced the floral pattern on her skirt. “Castel seems to have come around. Your mother is a mystery. But I have no idea what I’ve done to make Mary hate me so.”
“She doesn’t hate you.” He caught her hand with his and gave it a squeeze.
“Well, she certainly doesn’t like me. Will you concede to that?”
He sighed. “I witnessed your verbal sparring last evening. Iimagine if she’s willing to speak that way in front of me, it’s even worse when I’m not around. What has she been saying?”
“That I’m not good enough for your family. I feel as if I’m Elizabeth Bennet facing down Lady Catherine. But falling short no matter what I do.”
“Does that make me the brooding Mr. Darcy?” he teased.
She slid her gaze over his face, considering. “No. Because I’ve never hated you.”
A rare blush rose to his cheeks and she looked away before it spread to her, continuing. “Everything with her is about position and societal standing, what others think. And now I’m finding myself caring about that too, and I wish I could go back.” She drew in a long breath. “I can’t help but feel sorry for her. Because it is exhausting to be so preoccupied with how everyone else thinks.”
“She wasn’t always that way.” Byron said, voice hesitant. “When I was little, I even remember her having fun.”
“What changed?”
He remained silent for a few moments.
“A few things. I think it started with Wilburn Treadway.”
“The Treadway that Castel mentioned?”
