Jane Bites Back_ A Novel - Michael Thomas Ford [47]
“We’ll talk more about that later,” said Jane. “The important thing is that you need to stay away from Brian.” She didn’t know if Byron had revealed his true identity to Lucy. More important, she didn’t know if he had revealed her identity to her assistant. She suspected not, as Lucy would hardly be able to keep quiet about it.
“It’s okay,” Lucy said. “We’re good. All I had to do was say I’d let him make me a vampire.”
“What?” Jane practically yelled the words. “You agreed to let him do what?”
“Make me a vampire,” Lucy repeated. “He said it was no big deal.”
“Oh, I’m so going to kill him,” said Jane. “First he lied to me to get me to let him stay over last night, and now you’re telling me he’s talked you into letting him turn you?”
“He stayed at your place last night?” Lucy asked. She sounded hurt. “He told me he had to work on his novel.”
“I’m not surprised,” said Jane. “Lesson one—don’t trust vampires. Male ones, anyway. Especially that one.”
Lucy’s eyes were beginning to tear up. Jane went to her and hugged her close. “Oh, sweetie,” she said. “Don’t let him hurt you. He’s not worth it. Believe me.”
“But he said such nice things,” said Lucy. “He quoted poetry.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “Yes, he’s very good at that,” she told Lucy.
“What are we going to do?” Lucy asked, sniffling.
“I don’t know yet,” Jane answered. “But whatever it is, he’s going to wish he’d never been dead.”
Chapter 17
Seeing Jonathan talking to young Minerva Jones-Lipton, Constance felt herself inclined to rush to the girl and snatch her out of harm’s way. As the girl prattled on, Jonathan regarded her intently, his dark eyes sparkling. It called to mind a hawk watching an oblivious field mouse, waiting for the perfect moment to swoop down and snatch it up in its talons.
—Jane Austen, Constance, manuscript
“HOW OLD ARE YOU EXACTLY?” LUCY ASKED JANE.
“Old enough not to answer that question,” Jane said. She was making room in the hallway closet and was discovering that she had far too many coats and scarves.
“Okay,” said Lucy. “But are we talking old enough to have partied with the Beatles, or old enough to have partied with Mozart?”
“We can discuss that another time,” Jane said.
She still had not given Lucy the details about her identity, and hadn’t decided if she ever would. It was bad enough that she’d said anything at all. Despite Lucy’s surprising willingness to believe Jane’s story, Jane was regretting having said anything Whatever was I thinking? she asked herself as she removed three umbrellas from the closet.
She blamed Byron. If he hadn’t seduced her, she would have had a clear head. Worse, she had given in to him based on his lies. He’d already revealed himself to Lucy. In more ways than one, I’m sure, Jane thought. What a horrid man.
But what was done was done. Now the only thing to do about it was to try to undo Byron’s plans. And Jane had come up with something she thought just might do the trick.
“He should be here any minute,” she told Lucy. “Are you ready?”
Lucy nodded. “I think so,” she replied.
Jane breathed deeply. “Good,” she said. “You stay in here until it’s time to come out.”
“How will I know?” Lucy asked.
“Trust me,” said Jane. “You’ll know.”
The doorbell rang, and Jane put her finger to her lips. “Inside,” she whispered, pushing Lucy into the closet and arranging the coats as best she could to conceal the girl. “Oh, and don’t forget these.” She pressed something into Lucy’s hand.
Lucy nodded as Jane shut the door. Jane checked her appearance in the hallway mirror, then went to greet Byron. When she opened the door, he gave her his most charming smile.
“Good evening,” he said in a voice that came straight out of a Bela Lugosi movie.
“Stop it,” said Jane. “That joke hasn’t been funny for decades.”
Byron stepped inside. “Personally, I find it’s quite a hit with the ladies,” he said.
“Calling the women you associate with ladies is stretching the definition a bit, don’t you think?” said Jane.
Byron laughed. “You’re in a mood tonight,” he said. “What’s brought this