Page 75 of The Hidden Heart

“In this weather? That’s suicide! What the devil….”

It did not take long to organize a search of the house, which turned up no sign of Radfield. In the meantime, Richard had two horses saddled and set some of the gardener’s men to searching around the house for tracks. Before the house search was completed, the gardener returned with a report that there were tracks of someone wading through the snow, cutting across the field toward the road.

Richard took Mr. Cobb with him to search for the man, telling Jessica tersely to keep the others occupied. She did the best she could, though her mind was on Richard and what was transpiring with the reverend. Why had he run away? It certainly seemed suspicious, as though he had run because he was guilty of a crime. Was he even really a priest?

In the deep snow, the tracks were easy to follow, and two men on horseback moved much more quickly than one struggling along on foot. It did not take Cleybourne and Cobb long to return with the minister in tow. Jessica and most of the guests were seated in the formal drawing room. Rachel was there, too, feeling well enough—and bored enough—today to come downstairs and meet their visitors.

Richard strode into the room, propelling Radfield before him, and Cobb followed close behind. Firmly Richard pushed the minister down into a chair. Radfield sat there, shivering, looking wet, bedraggled and thoroughly miserable.

“Now, Radfield, if that is indeed your name,” Richard said bitingly, “I think it is time that you told us the truth. Did you kill Mrs. Woods?”

“No!” Radfield looked up at him fiercely. “No, I didn’t kill her. I would never have hurt her!”

“It looks a little suspicious, your running away like that,” Richard pointed out. “Why would you take off into the snow, risking your life just to get away, unless you were the killer? Unless you feared discovery?”

“Of course I feared it!” Radfield cried out. “It was clear that you and that Runner were going to pin her murder on me!” He made a sweeping gesture toward Mr. Cobb.

“Now why would we do a thing like that?”

“You knew about her! You searched her room. You are bound to have found—” He broke off and slumped back in his chair, lowering his gaze.

“Found what?” Richard prodded. “The jewels?”

Radfield raised his head and shot Cleybourne a fulminating glance. “Yes, of course, the jewels. You were circling around, waiting for me to make a misstep. And she was—she was gone!” Tears pooled in his eyes.

Jessica, looking at the handsome young man, felt something stir in her brain, some vague hint of an idea. She frowned, watching him, her mind whirring.

“She was the one who always knew what to do,” he wailed forlornly. “Without her, I—I was lost. I didn’t know what to do.”

“You were her partner, weren’t you?” Cobb spoke up for the first time, striding forward and planting himself pugnaciously in front of the slender young man. “You stole that money from Mr. Gilpin together, didn’t you? It wasn’t a middle-aged dancing master at all, just you and that doxy—”

“Don’t you call her that!” Radfield blazed, jumping to his feet.

Cobb grinned, flexing his fingers with relish. “Want to pop me, do you? Well, come ahead, then. I’ll be happy to oblige you.”

“Oh, sit down,” Richard said irritably, putting a hand on Radfield’s shoulder and shoving him back down into his seat. “Don’t be daft. You are no match for him, and you know it.” He turned and gave Cobb a look. “You don’t need to beat the information out of him.”

“And why are you so tender about the man?” Cobb shot back. “’Tis clear he killed her. They were partners, they had a falling-out, and he pushed her down the stairs. He’s no match for a man, but he could kill a woman easily enough.”

“I didn’t kill her!” Radfield shouted. “Why can’t you understand that?” Tears spilled out of his eyes and ran down his cheeks. He raised his shaking hands to his head, thrusting them into his hair, the very picture of despair. “She is the last person I would ever have hurt. Yes, she was my partner. The one person in the world I trusted. I loved her!”

He broke down into sobs. Richard looked at him, his face touched with sympathy. “You were married to her?”

“No!” Radfield shook his head, letting out a strangled sort of laugh through his tears. “No, we were not married. Nor was she my mistress, for I am sure that will be your next thought.”

The idea that had crept into Jessica’s head a moment before formed fully now, and she said gently, “Mrs. Woods was your sister, wasn’t she?”

Radfield nodded.

Richard glanced at Jessica in surprise. “How did you know that?”

“I didn’t know, I guessed. Just a minute ago, when he got tears in his eyes, I realized that he looked like someone, and then it came to me. Without the makeup to darken her skin, if her hair had been its natural brown instead of black, she would have looked quite a bit like Rev—I mean, Mr. Radfield.”

Radfield brushed the tears from his face with his hands. “Bettina always looked after me. She was several years older than I. We were always moving about, so we hadn’t any other friends. And we were on our own a lot. Children were a bother. The other members of the troupe didn’t much like having us around.”

“The troupe?” Rachel asked. “You were actors, then?”

He nodded. “Our parents were. Us, too, as we grew older.”