“Yes, but if there is a member of Circe running in these circles, isn’t it better that he doesn’t know who you are?”
Byron sighed. “I suppose. So we’ll keep up the act. But thank heavens we are at least free from half the shackles while we finish this investigation.”
Mira gasped. “I forgot! I have news! About the documents, I mean. I was coming to look for you when I stumbled on Mary.”
“What a coincidence. I was looking for you after talking with Mr. Risewell. He doesn’t seem to know anything about the political documents. Either he’s lying or he doesn’t know he has them.”
“I don’t think the Risewells have the documents.”
“Then who does?”
“Maureen. I was just in conversation with her, and she told us that her house in London was broken into five times in the past year.”
Byron whistled. “Five times?”
“Yes. Two before her father died, the one where he was shot, and then two after she moved to Bath.”
“Curious. Was anything taken?”
“Not that she knows of. But her father was a journalist who worked with the Foreign Office. Is it possible that the documents were meant to come to him with instructions of him passing them along?”
“And the other burglaries are covering for when they make the real theft,” Byron said. “Do you think you can get an invitation to Henrietta Street?”
“I can certainly try.”
He offered his arm, and they left the drawing room together. Halfway down the hall, the sounds of discordant piano music hit their ears. They followed the noise and found Maureen Harris in the music room, at the piano, hammering out the racket. Mira recognized the pattern as the piece Maureen had tried to play for her and Liza that past Sunday. Bertie Corbet stood nearby, trying his best to not wince and failing. They were alone in the room, which was strange since Admiral Hoddle had mentioned chaperoning them.
Maureen stopped abruptly, her speech slightly slurred.“That’s all I have memorized and it’s simply dreadful. I don’t think I’m playing it right.”
Bertie shook his head. “No. You aren’t. I don’t know what it is meant to be, but surely it isn’t meant to sound like that.”
Maureen sniffed. “You’re meant to lie and tell me how much you loved it.”
“You want me to lie to you? That sets a bad precedent.”
“Everyone else lies to me. Why not you?” Before Bertie could answer, Maureen looked past him, finally seeing Mira and Byron in the doorway. She greeted them louder than necessary, a strange expression on her face. “Mira! Mr. Sherard. We were just speaking of you.”
“Were you?” Mira furrowed her brow.
“Well, we were. Before I tried playing my piece again. Did you like it? I think I’ve gotten better.”
“Erm...” She looked at Byron and an idea sprang to her mind. She smoothed her discomfort into a smile. “I really know nothing about music, but did you know that Mr. Sherard plays the piano quite well?” She took his arm and pulled him closer to Maureen. “What if we came over tomorrow and you showed him the sheet music? Maybe he could help you figure out how to play it!”
“Oh, would you?” Maureen gushed. “That would be wonderful.”
Byron smiled one of his knowing smiles. “I would be delighted.”
February 15, 1889: Morning
The next morning, Mira sat in frontof the vanity in her room at Davenguard, staring at herself in the mirror. It wasn’t a practice in conceit, but rather a moment of reflection, of realization.
On a cognitive level, Mira knew she was engaged, but it had yet to sink in. She didn’t feel any different. She’d always thought it would be a big romantic gesture, and she would be an entirely new person. But she felt exactly the same. Was it because she and Byron had been practically engaged for months? She’d known she would marry him at least since December. Maybe even before then.
She put her left hand out in front of her, flexing her fingers. He hadn’t given her a ring. But was it the ring that made it an engagement or the answer to the question?
Had he asked Cyrus for permission first? Did he need to?
It all was rather anticlimactic, even though it had happened in the heat of an argument. They were courting and now they were engaged and that was that.
