“She’s planning on
Byron waved a hand, dismissing the idea. “The two are hardly mutually exclusive,” he said. “There have been plenty of lovers I would gladly have murdered.”
“I’m sure there are one or two you actually have,” said Jane. She hesitated before asking her next question. “You’ve never told me: Why
Byron sighed deeply. “I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to ask,” he said.
Jane poured more wine into his glass. “It surprises me as well, and I really don’t know why I haven’t asked before. I suppose I didn’t really like to think of you with her.”
“Your jealousy is flattering,” said Byron, lifting his glass to her. “If I didn’t know you were in love with someone else, I might just try to seduce you again.”
Jane laughed. “And give up on Ted?” she asked.
“I fear that’s a lost cause,” Byron said. “Anyway, about Our Gloomy Friend. What do you know about her death?”
“Very little,” said Jane. “If I recall correctly, she died of typhus.”
Byron nodded. “That’s correct,” he said. “She contracted it from one of the family’s servants, an old woman called Tabitha Ackroyd. Did you also know that Our Gloomy Friend was pregnant at the time of her death?”
“No,” Jane said. “How awful.”
“It was,” said Byron. “But if it weren’t for the child, I might never have turned her.”
Jane sipped her wine. “How do you mean?”
“It was mine,” said Byron.
Jane gasped audibly. “It wasn’t!” she said.
“It was,” Byron said. “I wouldn’t marry her, and so she married her father’s curate. Arthur, his name was. A peculiar-looking fellow. He rather resembled Stephen King.” He paused for a moment. “Now that I think of it, I wonder … No, it couldn’t be. Could it?”
“Our Gloomy Friend,” Jane reminded him.
“Our Gloomy Friend,” said Byron. “Yes. Well, as I said, she was pregnant with my child.”
“And you refused to marry her,” Jane said. “Which was very gentlemanly of you, I must say.”
“I was young,” said Byron.
“You were sixty-seven,” Jane countered. “Did she know who you really were?”
“Not until later,” said Byron. “Anyway, she contracted typhus and was near death. Although I wouldn’t marry her, I did want the child. I had very little to do with my other children, you know.”
“Yes,” said Jane. “You weren’t exactly father of the year.”
“I wanted to try,” Byron said. “To be honest, I didn’t love Our Gloomy Friend. I never had. But the child was different.”
“So to save the baby you killed the mother,” Jane said. “Does it work that way?”
“As far as I knew, no one had ever tried it,” Byron answered. “She was going to die anyway, and the child with her, so there was nothing to lose.”
“For you,” said Jane. “Did you give her any say in the matter?”
Byron shook his head. “She was delirious with fever when I turned her. She thought it was all a nightmare.”
“And the child?”
“Stillborn,” said Byron. “I don’t know if the typhus killed it or if I did, but as I said, it hardly matters.”
Jane set her wineglass down. “Despite everything, I can’t help but feel sorry for Charlotte,” she said, momentarily forgetting her own rule against using her enemy’s real name. “First you get her pregnant and refuse to marry her, then you turn her into a vampire. And after all of that you don’t stay with her.”
“I couldn’t,” Byron said defensively. “She was half mad. All she did was scream at me and demand that I bring her victims to feed from. She wouldn’t hunt for herself. I endured it for half a year and then I left before I lost what was left of my humanity.”
“But you saw her again,” said Jane. “In New Orleans.”
“Our paths crossed from time to time,” Byron said. “She seemed to have accepted her new life. In fact, she seemed quite happy with how things turned out.”
“Except that she had her mummified siblings in her house and had dinner with them every night,” Jane reminded him.
“There is that,” Byron agreed.
“Have you given up trying to convince Ted to let you turn him?” Jane asked.
Byron was quiet for a long moment. “It has to be his idea,” he said. “It was a terrible mistake turning Ned. Even if I did think he was his brother, that doesn’t excuse what I did. And trying to get Ted to become like us won’t change any of that. I don’t think even Ned is trying to sway him.”
Jane thought about Ted growing old as his twin stayed young. She had gone through that with Cassie, although Cassie had never known that Jane still lived. Jane had watched her from afar.
“Why didn’t you ever give her the choice?” Byron asked.
“How did you do that?” asked Jane. “Can you read my thoughts?”
“Thankfully, no,” Byron said. “But I know how you felt about your sister, and given the similarity in circumstances, I thought it likely you might be thinking of her.”
“I am,” said Jane. “I don’t know if Ned and Ted are as close as Cassie and I were, but I have to imagine they are. If that’s the case, then I know why Ned isn’t asking Ted if he’ll consider being turned.”
“And why is that?” Byron inquired.
“Because,” said Jane, “he’s afraid Ted will say yes.”
Byron looked at the floor. When he looked up his eyes were filled with sadness. “Is it really so bad?” he asked quietly.
“It’s not about whether it’s good or bad,” said Jane. “It’s about knowing the other person will choose eternal life because she wants to be with you, not because she wants it for herself.”
“I never gave Our Gloomy Friend a choice,” said Byron. “I never gave you a choice, or Ted.”
“Ned,” Jane said. “It was Ned.”
“The point is I never
Jane patted the seat beside her on the couch. “Come here,” she told Byron.
He did as she said, and when he was next to her Jane spread the afghan over both of them. “You’re very good at turning people’s lives upside down, aren’t you?” she said.
“It seems that way,” Byron said.
“It’s not an attractive trait,” Jane informed him. “And it hasn’t served you well.”
“It hasn’t, has it?” said Byron.
“And now we’re both sitting here wondering when we might be killed by either your ex-lover or a vampire hunter,” Jane continued. “Some people might say that’s all your fault.”
Byron groaned and leaned his head back, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m sure this isn’t going to help my situation,” he said. “But I feel the need to point out that you’re the one who tried to kill Our Gloomy Friend.”
“I wish people would stop bringing that up,” Jane said. “It hardly compares.”
“I really do think she hates you more,” said Byron. “Do you suppose it’s because she’s jealous of your success, or is it because I favor you over her?”
“You’ve learned a great deal from our conversation, haven’t you?” Jane said.
Byron took her hand and held it. “I’m merely trying to put off considering what it all means,” he told her. “I thought it might help if I put some of the blame on you.”
“Well tried,” Jane said. “But not this time. This could be the last evening we spend together. Do you really want me to remember you like this?”
“Me?” said Byron. “Why do you assume that I’m the one they’ll be successful in killing? I might remind you that your skills are far less developed than mine.”
“Through no fault of my own,” Jane argued. “You never told me I could do any of these things.”
“Because you ran away,” said Byron. “Had you stayed around, I might have. I mean I