Stephanie Barron - Jane and the Unpleasantness at Scargrave Manor

“However it was, others more objective could prove the truth of neither assertion; the Lieutenant and his adversary had been playing long into the night, and had been deserted by their fellows; and no one had seen the cards the other alleged to have been in Lieutenant Hearst's coat-sleeve.”

“Was no one prepared to vouch for him before his company?”

“I fear that they had all suffered too much at his hands; and some may have shared the stranger's suspicion,” Colonel Buchanan replied shortly. “It ended as all such affairs must and inevitably do end — with Lieutenant Hearst defending his honour in a pistol duel with the gentleman.”

With a start, I remembered Fanny Delahoussaye's words at Isobel's ball, an evening that might have been an age ago; the Lieutenant, she said, was arrived from St. James having recently killed a man in a duel. The affairs of officers are the most romantic , she had prattled, or some nonsense to that effect.

“They met at dawn, not far from the barracks here in St. James, and Lieutenant Hearst succeeded in dispatching his accuser — which may have satisfied him , but only added to his unfortunate reputation. The poor fellow he killed was to have been wed at Christmas.”

There was a brief silence as Eliza and I took all this in; but keenly aware of my purpose I shook myself into awareness and sought once more the Colonel's gaze. “And this debacle has ruined the Lieutenant's standing in the cavalry?”

“An affair of honour is a dubious thing,” the Colonel told us, with a sharply exhaled breath and another impatient gesture. “The law would call it murder. But among military men, nothing is prized so much as one's honour — it is beyond fortune, beyond birthright; it is become the essence of the man. A duel to the death has long been the established mode of satisfying outrages against one's reputation. Had this been the only blot on the Lieutenant's career, he might have survived it. But taken with his pressing debts, and the fact that others of his fellows have called him cardsharp in the aftermath of the duel, he is now under consideration for cashierment by his superiors.”

“Colonel Buchanan,” I said, summoning my courage, “forgive me for prying further in such a matter. But were the Lieutenant presently to satisfy his creditors, discharge his debts of honour among the company, and conduct himself in a manner more suited to a gentleman and a member of his corps, could his commission yet be saved?”

“I fear that little might save Lieutenant Hearst,” the Colonel replied, his eyes stern, “though women ever believe that love alone shall do it. I dearly hope, Miss Austen, that it is some other lady than yourself who has proved so susceptible to the rascal's charms. I should not like to see you lost to all reason.”

I cursed my ready tendency to blush as I replied. “I assure you, sir, that I am come on another's behalf, and must return with the heaviest of burdens — that of advising one in love to look no further for happiness in the Lieutenant's quarter. It is a burden I have gladly shared with the Countess.”

“Indeed,” Eliza said quickly, recollecting our supposed purpose for being there, and reaching for her reticule, “I must thank you, dear Colonel, for your readiness to disclose what may only be to the Lieutenant's detriment. Circumstances required that his character be better understood.”

“The decision of his superiors should even now have been reached,” the Colonel said, “and so you may be saved of your duty. For no young woman should wish to marry a man without fortune, career, or prospects — may he have twenty uncles recently dead.”

5 January 1803, cont.

BEFORE BIDDING ADIEU TO THE HORSE GUARDS, I ENQUIRED of Colonel Buchanan where the Lieutenant's batman, Jack Lewis, might be found, and he had the fellow brought to his rooms — vacating them, in his goodness, when Eliza explained that we were about an errand of my lady's maid. That I had no lady's maid, she did not see fit to advise the Colonel; and so he remained in the dark as to our true purpose, as indeed he had been from the moment of our arrival.

“Miss Austen!” Jack Lewis cried, bouncing in the door with little ceremony; and turning to Eliza, had the grace to bow, though he permitted himself a low whistle. Had I not prepared her for his eccentric behaviour; she should assuredly have been disconcerted; but my cousin only smiled and inclined her head, and the batman looked tome.

“Jack at your service, miss, and ‘opin’ as you've a kind word for my mate Tom. Perishin’ with love, ‘e is,” he confided to Eliza with a wink.

“I am come to enquire about an errand I believe you did for the Lieutenant,” I told him, “in which I am concerned.”

“Ask away, miss,” said he merrily.

“It was you who retrieved the maid Marguerite's belongings from Lizzy Scratch, was it not?”

Whatever the batman had expected, it was hardly this. Jack Lewis appeared to have been struck a blow, and stepped back a pace, before recovering.

“I did,” he said, his jaw suddenly tight.

“And did you observe among her things a gold pendant locket, such as she might have worn about her neck?”

There was a silence, and Tom Hearst's man shuffled his feet.

“Lizzy Scratch has told me that she gave it to you, Jack, but when I received the maid's things from the Lieutenant for posting to the Barbadoes, the locket was not among them. Is it possible your master took it?”

“‘e'd never do such a thing!” the batman spat out, his expression gone from that of a cheerful monkey to a dangerous cat.

“Then I am left with only one possibility,” I said, “and that is that you took the locket yourself.”

He threw up his hands in an expression of disgust. “Lizzy Scratch don't know where ‘er brats are, of an evening, much less a bit of finery. Since when's ‘er word been worth so much?”

“Lizzy Scratch was especially careful in this case,” I replied, “because murder had been done. She believed that similar evil might befall her, did she keep any of the maid's things.”

He looked in desperation at Eliza, but received only her dazzling smile; and then something in his face changed. “I'll not have you thinking as it was the Lieutenant,” he said, “and I only took what was mine in the first place.”

“You'd given the locket to the girl?”

“When we was courtin’, last summer it was, in London. It was on account of me, and my past with the maid, that the Lieutenant thought to fetch up ‘er things the day she died.” For a moment only, Jack Lewis's voice broke; and then again he recovered. “Right afraid, old Tom was, that there'd be somethin’ as would lead the magistrate straight to me. My Lieutenant's a loyal man, I'll grant ‘im that.” He sat down upon one of Colonel Buchanan's chairs and put his head in his hands.

“Had you seen Marguerite since your arrival at Scargrave?” I asked the batman gently.

Jack Lewis raised a sober face and met my eyes unflinchingly. “I used to send a bit o’ note by ‘er, and we'd visit in the ‘ay-shed. But Lord bless me, I never slit ‘er throat, miss. I'd never a done that. Margie weren't a bad sort, for all ‘er ferrin’ ways; just lonely, like, and grateful for a bit'uv a cuddle.”

“So you hastened to Lizzy Scratch on the day of the maid's death, and made away with the locket.”

Jack Lewis nodded once and averted his gaze. “Could'a knocked me over with a feather when I sees it still among ‘er things, and my face clear as a candle inside. Thought they'd haul me up for murder, I did — so's I put it in me pocket, and said no more about it.”