Jane Vows Vengeance

bears.”

“Ah,” Jane said. “I understand. And I’m sure there are a great many of them who prefer your company as well.”

“A few,” Orsino said, smiling.

“Are you trying to steal my fiancee?”

Walter appeared, carrying in each hand a glass of ale. Ben, likewise encumbered, took the seat beside Lucy and handed her a glass. “Boddington’s Ale,” he said. “The cream of Manchester.”

“You will be happy to know that your fiancee has deflected all of my attempts to make her fall in love with me,” Orsino told Walter. “I am utterly defeated.” He winked at Jane, who hid her smile in her beer.

“I’m relieved to hear it,” Walter said. Jane detected a note of anger in his voice, and her heart sank as she was reminded that despite appearances he was deeply hurt.

“This beer is amazing,” said Lucy, changing the subject, for which Jane was thankful.

“Brodie recommended it,” said Ben.

“Where is our Australian friend?” Orsino asked.

“Still at the bar,” said Walter. “He ran into some other Aussies and they’re having a drink.”

“Then I’m certain he’ll be in a fine mood when he arrives,” Orsino said.

As if on cue, Brodie’s voice boomed through the air. “Walter!” he called out. “Look who I found!”

Jane looked up to see the Australian approaching with his arm around a woman. She was about Jane’s height, with curly brown hair that was cut short and a pug nose that gave her a boyish look. She was dressed in jeans and a red shirt that Jane was almost certain came from the most recent L.L.Bean catalog.

“Sam!” Walter cried. He got up and walked around the table to give the woman a hug. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too,” said Sam in a husky but pleasant voice. “It’s been a long time.”

Lucy leaned across the table. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” she whispered to Jane.

Walter turned around. “Jane, this is Sam,” he said.

“It’s good to finally meet you,” said Jane. “I’ve heard so much about you.” This of course was a lie, but if Walter caught it, he showed no indication of it.

“Brodie tells me the two of you got married today,” Sam said, looking between Walter and Jane. “Congratulations.”

An uncomfortable silence settled over the table. Jane had assumed that Walter had told everyone about the interruption to their wedding. Apparently he had not. Jane, not knowing how to respond, waited anxiously as the seconds ticked by.

“Thank you,” Walter said. He didn’t look at Jane as he smiled broadly and added, “We’re thrilled to be able to celebrate it with good friends.”

Jane, who had never known Walter to be deceitful in any way whatsoever, couldn’t decide if she was horrified or proud. Mostly she felt ashamed. Walter would never have had to lie if she hadn’t made a mess of things. If Joshua hadn’t made a mess of things, she corrected herself. Not that it mattered who exactly was to blame. The end result was the same.

Orsino, sensing that Walter probably wanted to sit beside his supposed wife, returned to his original seat on Chumsley’s right. Sam sat next to him, with Walter and Jane filling the rest of that side of the table. Brodie took the end seat, facing Chumsley across the table, with Ben and Lucy to his right. That left a seat between Lucy and Miriam. This was occupied by Lilith, whom Miriam had once again presented as a helping dog to a dubious but ultimately acquiescent hostess. The little dog was curled up, asleep but snoring loudly.

A waiter appeared not long after and took their orders. Jane, with feelings of nostalgia, ordered bangers and mash. She hadn’t had it in years, and although she of course didn’t have to eat due to her undead digestive system, she enjoyed the ritual of it. As she waited for the food to arrive, she listened to the conversations going on around her. Walter, busy catching up with Sam, was turned away from her, and she felt the urge to reach beneath the table and hold his hand. She resisted it, afraid he would pull away.

“Nasty little bugger,” she heard Brodie say.

“Who is?” she asked.

“McGuinness,” Brodie replied. “Man’s a right berk.”

Jane was intrigued. The previous night Brodie had seemed more or less indifferent to McGuinness. Now she detected a distinct note of dislike in his voice. She wondered if he’d had enough drinks to let his true feelings for the man show.

“Did I tell you we went to school together?” Brodie asked.

“No,” Jane said.

“We did,” Brodie continued. “Dalhousie University in Halifax. Wonderful school. I don’t know how the hell McGuinness got in. His designs were shit.”

“If he was so incompetent, how did he get a degree?” Lucy asked.

Brodie held up one thick finger. “A very good question,” he said. “The way he gets everything he gets—by cheating.”

“It seems to me it would be rather difficult to cheat at designing a building,” Ben remarked.

“Not if you steal other people’s designs,” said Brodie. “Thieving bastard.”

The tone of his voice suggested a personal experience with McGuinness’s treachery, and Jane couldn’t help asking, “Did he ever steal from you?”

Brodie snorted, sounding not unlike an angry rhino. “Course he did,” he said. “Stole one of my best ideas. It was my own fault for telling him about it in the first place, but I didn’t know then what a sly one he is. Clever as a shithouse rat. Pardon the expression, ladies.”

“Surely you told the professor what he’d done,” Lucy said.

“Wouldn’t have done a bit of good,” he said. “He was having a naughty with her every afternoon while her husband was off teaching the history of Canada to undergrads. No way she would believe me over him.” He took a long pull on his ale. “Anyway, that’s all in the past. Still, I wouldn’t mind if someone kicked him down a flight of stairs.”

At that point several servers arrived carrying plates of food, and for the next half an hour Jane focused on her bangers and mash. They were just as wonderful as she remembered, and for the time it took to finish them she forgot all about her unfortunate predicament. Walter too seemed to forget, chatting with her amiably about his fish and chips and exchanging bites with her.

Then, as the empty dishes were being taken away and the waiter was suggesting sticky toffee pudding for dessert, Jane felt a twinge in her stomach. At first she thought it was merely a reaction to the onion gravy (onions had had this effect on her ever since she was a child). But when another cramp came, much stronger than the first, she knew it was something else. She needed to feed. And this time bangers wouldn’t do the job. She needed blood.

Chapter 9

Wednesday: Cripple Minton

A train at eight-twenty in the morning is a sleepy thing.

Jane, having not yet had an opportunity to feed, was particularly lethargic, and the gentle whump-whump-whump of the train passing over the tracks made her even more so. Her hunger made it impossible to sleep, however, and so she planned on spending the hour and a half it would take to travel from London to Warwick staring out the window. Walter, who could fall asleep anywhere, had done so within five minutes of the train leaving Marylebone station. His head was against Jane’s shoulder and his breath was hot in her ear, which was irritating.

She felt guilty being irritated about Walter’s close proximity. She knew she should be grateful that he hadn’t broken things off. But when she was hungry she hated to be touched, not least of all because she could feel the blood coursing beneath the surface of the skin of the person touching her and it took enormous force of will not to