February 7, 1889
There was nothing so tiresome as trains and stations; the steam, the crowd, the noise of the platform.
To say nothing of the cramped little compartments and the rumble beneath one’s feet.
Perhaps if she had been allowed more time to recuperate from the last trip, there would be a novelty in traveling again.
As it was, she stood on the platform waiting for the train with Byron and Walker and she disliked every moment of it.
“I do wish we’d been able to make our own travel arrangements,” Walker said, leaning back on his heels. “Why, I’d have gotten us an airship. It’d take twice the time, but think of the views!”
Mira looked up at the two dirigibles gracing the blue above them.
It would certainly be more exciting to travel by airship—she could practically feel the exhilaration of flying—but their uncle was the one who arranged for their transportation.
Cyrus may have taken an airship to and from France, but that didn’t mean he trusted them.
“If we took an airship, we wouldn’t make it in time for the music recital,” Byron said.
“Oh, I wouldn’t mind missing it,” Walker said.
Landon returned from speaking with the porters. “I do believe the luggage is all sorted.”
“Thank you, Landon,” Walker said.
“Of course, sir,” he said. “Is there anything else I can help with before I go?”
Walker shook his head, consulting his pocket watch. “Even if there was, you need to be off. Your train leaves from Victoria in two hours.”
“I can take the next train if necessary.”
“You’ll give our love to our uncle when you get there?” Mira said.
“I’ll be certain to. Hopefully, he and your aunt have had some time to settle in.”
“I wish you could come with us,” she said. They’d only been home for a few short days, and she hadn’t seen much of the butler in that time.
“As do I. But if your family is to make a successful move to Spenston Park, I need to be there to oversee the new household staff.”
“Besides, if he came we’d have two chaperones,” Walker laughed a little. “And then, what would we do?”
“Says the man assigned to chaperone us on the way to Bath,” Byron teased.
Landon’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “The way you carry on about chaperones, Walker, makes me certain that you need one.”
Walker sputtered like a gasping fish, but his protestations were drowned out by the train’s whistle.
Mira gave the old butler a hug.
“Goodbye, Landon,” Mira said. “Take care.”
“I will. I’d ask you to stay out of trouble, but I know that’s a fool’s wish,” he teased.
Mira smiled. “I’ll try.”
“You’ll look after her, won’t you?” Landon said, turning to Byron.
“Of course, I will.”
***
On the way to Bath, the trio found themselves splitting their time between their own compartment and the dining car.
They would be meeting Liza and her family at the station once they arrived, then going on to their lodgings of the next few weeks.
Walker was ostensibly acting as chaperone for Byron and Mira during the trip, but said nothing as they held hands beneath the table during tea.
They whiled away an hour, consuming pastries, cheese, sandwiches, and jams, talking about this and that amidst the clattering of cutlery and idle conversations from the other occupants of the dining car.
“It’s been ages since I attended a musical program,” Mira said. “I hope we have enough time to get ready.”
“Seems to me that you only need thirty minutes to look presentable, Mouse,” Walker said, teasing.
She gave him a glare, though it lacked heat. “I’d rather not rush if I don’t have to. Especially as we aren’t familiar with the town. We could arrive with hours to spare to get ready, and lose it all in carriage rides to and from our lodgings and Bath proper.”
Byron sighed. “I wish I could escort you there, but I believe my family intends to make an entrance.”
“You’re certain about staying with them in Bath?” Walker asked between bites of scone. “From what I hear, Davenguard has plenty of room if you change your mind.”
“Positive.” Byron rubbed the back of Mira’s hand with his thumb. “For the purposes of the investigation, it would be best if no one is aware of my work as a detective. Which means I ought to assume the role of Ambrose Sherard, estranged son and brother.”
“Must be dashed confusing to keep everything separate,” Walker said. “Two names, two personas, two lives.”
“One person,” Mira whispered.
Byron squeezed her hand. “Seeing as they rarely intersect, it isn’t as much trouble as you’d expect.”
“And yet, they are intersecting,” Walker said. “Are we going to see a new side to you, old boy?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Byron said. “There isn’t much difference between the way I act with my family and how I act in a professional setting.”
“And here I thought one needed to craft an entirely new identity when one had a pseudonym.” Walker spread clotted cream across another scone. “Isn’t that part of the fun of it?”
“I suppose,” Byron said. “But that would add unnecessary complication. Most people who use pseudonyms only need the luxury of a second name.”
Walker frowned. “There aren’t that many people who use pseudonyms, are there?”
“Oh, more than you would think. Authors, journalists, scientists, and the like often use a nom de plume in order to maintain their privacy. Using a pseudonym wouldn’t change much of their actions in the day to day, except, perhaps, in remembering which signature to use.”
“Is that why you chose Constantine?” Walker asked. “For privacy?”
Byron paused, selecting a pastry. “In my case, it’s a means of separating from my family name.
It allows me to do my work without people paying too much attention.
Although, as I’ve made more of a name as a detective, it has become more difficult.
” He retrieved a petit four and sat back.
“The name change also assuages any embarrassment my family might have in my choice of profession.”
“Fair enough,” Walker said.
They sat in silence for a few moments. Walker’s brow furrowed and he worried at his lip, as if considering his next question with great care.
“I’ve been thinking about our godfather. Ex-godfather, I suppose.” As he spoke, Mira’s shoulders tightened. She’d been trying not to think about him. Walker continued.
“I don’t think he used a pseudonym. At least not with us.” His voice was a bit hollow and he averted his gaze. “But I am wondering if the way he acted with us was a persona.”
Mira swallowed, thinking back to how Professor Burke acted in the catacombs. How quickly his mask had shattered.
Byron sat forward. “In my experience, when one takes on a persona, it is necessary to build from a place of truth. If you build an entirely new personality and background, you will need to take great pains to remember everything and avoid contradicting yourself over time. If you don’t, you’ll be liable to act strangely and draw attention to yourself.
” He took a sip of tea. “However, if you take one aspect of your personality and amplify it, adjusting small details in your history, it becomes much easier to manage.”
“It sounds as if you’ve taken on a persona yourself,” Walker said.
“When necessary,” Byron said. “I think the most intense one was Elliot Thorne.”
“Thorne?” Walker frowned. “I don’t believe I’ve heard this story.”
Mira dabbed a napkin where some jam had dribbled down her hand. “It was just before his accident.”
“Before and after, to a degree,” Byron said. “I still have an issue when I first wake up with remembering what year it is, and whether I ought to head down to the docks for that gunpowder plot.”
“It seems this was more than just a nom de plume then?” Walker said.
“I needed to infiltrate Circe. Consequently, I required a tight identity. I took on a different mode of speaking and shabbier dress, and rented rooms on the opposite side of town so that if anyone followed me it would corroborate my new identity. Over a few months, it became more and more natural to be Mr. Thorne.” He chuckled a little.
“Even when I intended to go to Palace Court, I would often find myself heading to the new rooms out of habit. Still do, sometimes. You see, the longer you are acting within the persona, the more natural it becomes, and there is a risk of blurring the lines between yourself and the act.” His tone grew serious.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the lines had long been blurred for Professor Burke when it came to his relationships with the two of you and his role as the Charger. ”
The silence loomed over them again. Mira shifted in her seat.
She understood why Walker was asking such questions.
She had asked herself the same questions over the past months.
It was difficult to reconcile which version of Edward Burke was real.
But she’d never considered that both sides could be genuine.
Walker cleared his throat, taking another sandwich. “Is there a reason why an ordinary person would take on a persona?”
Byron thought for a moment before gesturing across the dining car to a couple deep in conversation.
“Imagine, if you will, that those two are having an affair. They wish to travel together, but they do not want to be recognized. Their persona, as you put it, is that of a married couple. They might wear different clothes than usual and travel under a different name, but they needn’t change anything else so long as they act as if they are meant to be together.
” He set his teacup down. “If they create a complicated backstory, they are more likely to stumble over their words, trying to remember exactly how to act. That sort of awkwardness is more likely to stick in the memory.”
Mira considered the couple across from them. “Do you really think they are having an affair?”
Byron glanced at them. “No. They’ve been discussing their child’s boarding school in great detail. I highly doubt that they would have concocted such a story in advance.”