Jane Austen Mysteries 10 Jane and the Madness of Lord Byron (46 page)

"And so, by your calculation, the General left you at half-past one?"

"Or a little earlier, perhaps. I did not linger alone with Colonel Hanger long. The General was no sooner out the door, than Hanger must be abusing him--and all his family. The affair of the duel was dragged forward, with Hanger describing the morals of Catherine's mother in such terms as I should blush to repeat; and then--" Morley hesitated, his blue eyes flicking to meet mine, and a dull red colour suffusing his cheeks--"went so far as to drag Catherine herself through the muck."

The charger's head jerked back; the Captain had clenched unconsciously at the reins. "He knew of Byron's persistent suit--knew, as well, of the attempted abduction, I know not how. His contempt for Byron was immense; he seems to regard all poets as weaklings and--forgive me--sodomites; the fact of Byron's lameness only inflamed his derision further. I did not waste my words in defending a man I regarded as my enemy; but Catherine--Hanger seemed to believe that Miss Twining
encouraged
Byron's attentions--that like her mother, she was, as Colonel Hanger put it,
soiled goods
, no better than a
common doxy, not worth the bullet fired to defend her honour.
"

Mona uttered a shocked exclamation of sympathy.

"You may imagine how I felt," Morley said in a low voice. "Indignation--outrage--on the point of personal honour, and family pride--Had he been anyone but a senior officer, I should have thrown my glove in his face. As it was--I bade him goodnight with the barest civility and showed myself out of the old blackguard's rooms.

"I loitered in the Pavilion's foyer a moment, in the hope that Catherine might descend, and require an escort home. I wish to God I had waited longer! I must have missed her only by moments."

The Pavilion footman responsible for the door that evening should of course corroborate this, did we ask.

"But Catherine did
not
appear, and I had no business disturbing Lady Caroline. I recollected I was expected on the Parade Ground to train some raw recruits early the next morning, and slipped regretfully out the door. The stable clock had just finished tolling the half-hour."

"And General Twining was nowhere in sight?"

Morley hesitated, then continued with marked distaste. "In fact, he had lain in wait for me, if you will credit it. He stepped forward out of the shadows and offered me such abuse--the sort of violent obscenities only a man in his cups should utter--that I so far forgot myself, as to knock him down. No doubt that was his very object, that he might have the pleasure of calling me up before a court-martial."

"You struck the General?" Mona cried gleefully; she seemed to regard a mill as excellent sport.

Morley smiled at her sadly. "He was excessively foxed, I fear--Hanger is notorious for a deep drinker, and the General had been keeping pace with his old comrade. Indeed, he was so unsteady as to take the blow full on the chin, and lose his footing--and once he fell, appeared senseless. I was horrified enough at the result of my actions to search for a pulse--satisfied myself that he breathed still--and then left him. My feelings were so uncharitable towards General Twining at the time, that I had no interest in aiding him--and hoped he should suffer acutely from the head-ache in the morning."

Mona laughed delightedly, and her team seemed to take some of their excitement from her--slipping into a canter that hurtled the precarious phaeton down the road towards the sea.

"And then?" I gasped, clutching at my seat as Mona sawed at the ribbons. The chestnuts dropped back into a walk.

"I returned to the Castle, where I had stabled Intrepid," Morley said, patting his charger's neck. "We must already have achieved our road home when Catherine--when she quitted the Pavilion, entirely alone.... How Lady Caroline can have allowed it ..."

"As to that," Mona began--but I pinched her near arm and she shot me a look of enquiry. I gave my head the slightest shake. There was no need to inform the Captain of Byron's appearance in Caro Lamb's rooms. Morley appeared in ignorance of it, and I had no wish to heighten his conviction that Byron was a killer.

We had reached the final descent into Brighton when the Captain drew rein, and doffed his hat.

"Will you not dine with us this evening, Captain?" Mona asked, at her most engaging.

"I should enjoy nothing better," he said, "but must decline the invitation--I do not have leave. Indeed, I have neglected my duties already too long. I shall be fortunate not to be thrown in the stocks! But I could not resist the chance to speak of Catherine to a few who knew her--and wished to thank you, Miss Austen, for having saved her that day in Cuckfield. Would that she had never known a greater danger!"

He wheeled Intrepid, and galloped away from us then, but not before I had seen an unexpected rush of tears stain his cheeks.

"It is remarkable," Mona told me sombrely, "that such gentlemen may cut their way through scores of French--and yet return home possessed of hearts enough, to mourn the loss of a green girl."

"He makes no mention of meeting Byron as his lordship entered the Pavilion, tho' the timing was such, it is extraordinary their paths did not cross," I observed. "Do you think we ought to believe him, Mona?"

CHAPTER THIRTY
The Giaour

S
ATURDAY
, 15 M
AY
1813
B
RIGHTON

A
REVENGE TRAGEDY
, L
ADY
O
XFORD HAD SAID OF THE
verses Lord Byron was presently writing. I had thought that she referred to her lover in this--that it was Byron who sought revenge, for Catherine Twining's murder--but as the phaeton swiftly descended towards the village by the sea, and the beautiful youth who was Captain Viscount Morley disappeared behind us, I asked myself which of the gentlemen might have had cause to feel the spurs of jealousy more.

A man I knew for my enemy
, the young captain had said of his lordship; and who could blame him? Morley had, in retrospect, shown remarkable restraint while playing at cards with Byron the previous evening. Was this a testament to the quality of his breeding--or the depth of his satisfied revenge?

"I wish we had been able to speak to Byron," I fretted, as Mona pulled up at the meeting of the Lewes and London roads.

"It is a pity," she agreed as she headed her team south. "Had we been able to put Caro's story to him point-blank, he might have confessed the whole--and we should then be saved the embarrassment of interrogating poor Scrope Davies. I shall make Swithin do it, of course; he will manage exactly the right blend of sympathy and sternness. He is forever adopting that tone when my modiste's bills prove shockingly high, and we are forced to engage in an uncomfortable interview in his book room. Shall I set you down at the Castle, Jane? I confess I should prefer you to come back with me to Marine Parade--I do not like to face Lady Oxford alone."

"Mona," I said, shaking the sealed packet of paper, "if this proves to be a letter from Byron to the Countess, you shall be greeted with joy."

"And if it is not?" she countered. "Pity me, Jane!"

I glanced at her sidelong. "I believe all this fresh air has given me an appetite. I should be happy to partake of a nuncheon in Marine Parade--and shall
stand buff
as heartily as Scrope Davies, should you require it!"

L
ADY
O
XFORD STILL KEPT TO HER ROOM
.

We discovered her established on a settee, in fetching dishabille, with a pretty lace cap covering her light brown hair and a pair of spectacles on her nose. She was reading Volume the Eighth of her history of Rome.

"We intend a trip to Sardinia, you know, in June," she told me carelessly as she set aside the book; "or perhaps we shall simply stay at Naples. Oxford hopes to find some antiquities there--his friend Lord Hamilton is forever singing the praises of Naples for such treasures, and if watching poor labourers dig in the dirt will make my lord happy, I find no cause to complain."

"--Provided Vesuvius does not erupt again," Mona murmured. "Jane--we carried a hamper of provisions to Byron this morning, but the sentries at the Camp would not allow us a glimpse of him. He sent this to you by way of his gaolers."

"At last," she breathed. "A communication."

She reached eagerly for the packet, broke the seal with impatience, and began to scan the first page.

I observed her with interest and some apprehension. Closeted in her rooms without the benefit of dress, hair, or such touches of powder and rouge as a fashionable London lady must always employ, she looked all her forty years; and the recollection of Byron's haunting visage and vigourous frame, despite the club foot--proclaimed all the disparity of the five-and-twenty-year-old. Theirs was a misalliance, undoubtedly a misalliance--and as I studied the Countess's face, I guessed that she apprehended the same. Without Byron's overwhelming presence, she might better command her reason.

"What effrontery!" she exclaimed, casting aside the sheet she had been reading. "Only look at it, Mona, and tell me whether I have not been exceedingly ill-used!"

"It grows late, and I should take my leave--" I began, but Mona had already perused Byron's words, and with a snort, thrust the page into my hands.

A Song

Thou art not false, but thou art fickle
,
To those thyself so fondly sought;
The tears that thou has forc'd to trickle
Are doubly bitter from that thought
.

"Shall we sing it together, Mona, you and I?" Lady Oxford jeered. "Or shall we cast it into the fire, as cold fuel for forgotten warmth?"

The Countess of Swithin stared despairingly at her friend. "Indeed, I am truly sorry--he is an uncouth yokel, my dear, and unworthy of your love. He shall repent of his harshness, however, given time."

Lady Oxford threw back the light shawl that had covered her ankles, and got up from her settee. "I have given Lord Byron too much of my time already. I believe I shall return to London, Mona--if I set out within the hour, I might arrive in time to kiss my children goodnight; at the very least, I shall sleep in my own bed, and may awake next morning prepared to embark on all the preparations for Sardinia. Oh, to see the blue of the Mediterranean again! I am wild to pass Gibraltar! There is nothing like travel, after all, when one is brokenhearted!"