Page 81 of The Hidden Heart

“Just telling you the truth of it. Men like us don’t marry governesses, especially ones who are willing to let us under their skirts for nothing.”

“Don’t you dare classify yourself with Cleybourne!” Jessica exclaimed, rage sweeping through her. “He is nothing like you, thank God!”

“No? Well, perhaps I shall be kind and let you die with such sweet delusions in your head. Now, where is the paper?”

“You are mad! I have no intention of writing a suicide note for you!”

He pressed the knife into her throat a little, cutting a thin red line. “You will if you don’t want to die.”

“For what—four more minutes? And do you really think they will believe that I killed myself by slicing my own throat?”

He glared at her in the mirror, and she knew that he would have loved to kill her right there and then. But he pulled himself back under control. “Perhaps you are right. I will just write the note for you when I return.”

“Ret—” But Jessica was not able to get out the words, for he tossed the knife onto the dresser beside the box and clamped his hand around her throat, squeezing her neck tightly between his fingers until black dots swam in front of her eyes and she fell unconscious.

* * *

Jessica awoke feeling sick at her stomach. She was also bitterly cold. She opened her eyes, letting out a little groan, and saw the white snow beneath her, bouncing up and down. Her head ached, and so did her stomach, pressed hard against something. It took her a moment to realize that Kestwick must have flung her over his shoulder and was carrying her through the snow, her head hanging down on one side of him and her feet on the other. Every step he took jounced her tender head and pushed against her stomach. She closed her eyes, fighting a wave of nausea. She shivered. It was terribly cold to be out of the house without a coat, but at least the chill was making her come to her senses rapidly. If she did nothing, Kestwick was going to kill her.

She kicked him as hard as she could, twisting and struggling and drumming her hands against his back. Opening her mouth, she screamed, but she feared that the sound fell away to nothingness in the open white landscape.

Kestwick stumbled, then pitched her down on the ground, cursing. The snow cushioned her fall, so it did not completely knock the air out of her, but as Jessica struggled to her feet, she staggered dizzily.

“Shut up, damn you!” Kestwick roared, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to him, clamping his hand over her mouth.

He moved on, half dragging, half pushing her, struggling through the snow up to their knees. Jessica’s shoes were quickly soaked through, as was the bottom of her dress and petticoats, and she was bitterly cold. It was small comfort to know that he was no more dressed for the elements than she, not having had the time to go to his room and put on a coat and hat.

She could not tear away from his grasp, but she made their progress as difficult and slow as possible, hoping that someone had heard her scream or would notice she was missing. She thought of Richard chatting happily with Rachel and Michael. It could be hours before he noticed she was gone. Still, she fought fiercely, determined not to let Kestwick kill her easily. She did not know what he planned or where he was taking her, but she scratched and dug in her heels, pulling back with all her weight, twisting and struggling to get away from him. They fell down more than once, but still they struggled on.

They finally reached a place where the snow lay lower than elsewhere, and Kestwick flung her out into it. She sank through it and came up against something hard and smooth. Ice! In that moment she realized that she was on the frozen pond. He meant to break through the ice and send her down into the frigid water to die, pulled under by the weight of her skirts and petticoats.

Terrified, she jumped to her feet and flung herself forward off the ice, thankful that it had not broken through. Kestwick let out a roar of rage and grabbed her, pulling her out onto the ice and kicking at it with his heel. Jessica clawed at his face, and he let out a shriek, grappling with her to control her arms. There was an ominous cracking sound beneath their feet.

Suddenly, behind them, came a roar of rage, and in the next moment a hand caught Kestwick’s collar and flung him backward. Jessica looked up and saw Richard.

He swept his arm around her and pulled her off the ice. Kestwick let out a wordless scream of anger and frustration and charged forward, slamming into Richard and sending the two of them falling backward onto the frozen surface of the pond.

“Richard!” Jessica screamed.

There was another, louder crack when the two men smacked into the ice. Then it broke, and they fell into the water. Jessica screamed Richard’s name again and started forward, but a man caught her arm and thrust her aside. It was Lord Westhampton, and he ran to the pond, where the two men were still struggling in the icy water.

Kestwick was trying to squirm away from Richard, to reach the ice and climb out on it, and Richard was grappling with him, attempting to drag the other man back to the shore with him.

The ice broke off everywhere they touched it. Kestwick shoved Richard beneath the water, but he came up, grabbing Kestwick and throwing him backward against the ice. Jessica watched, frantic with worry, as Michael arrived at the pond and reached for Richard’s shoulder. Richard was just out of range, and Michael glanced around quickly for something to use to grab his friend.

Jessica heard the sound of someone behind her and turned to see Mr. Cobb chugging through the snow, and farther behind him came Rachel and Gabriela. Cobb carried in his hand a foot-long cudgel, his weapon, Jessica assumed, but he used it now as a stick, handing it to the longer-armed Michael, who stretched out, holding the cudgel to Richard. Richard grasped the other end of the stick, and Michael pulled him toward the shore, leaning down with Cobb to grab the duke by the shoulders as soon as he was near enough to haul him out of the water. Richard flopped down in the snow, coughing, and Jessica ran to him, throwing herself onto her knees beside him.

“Are you all right? Oh, Richard!”

He nodded and sat up, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly. “Jessica…Thank God. I have never been so scared in my life. I thought—I thought I was going to lose you.”

“No. Never.”

Richard tilted her chin up and kissed her, and suddenly Jessica felt far less cold.

Behind them Cobb and Michael turned to try to pull Kestwick to shore, as well. But Kestwick turned and swam away, ignoring Westhampton’s shouts. His movements were labored, slowed by the cold that had penetrated him, and by the water that had soaked his clothes and filled his boots, dragging him down. He reached the edge of the sheet of ice that covered the pond and grasped it with his hands. He heaved his body out of the water, but at the sudden weight on it, the ice broke, and he slid back into the water. The large chunk of ice he had broken off slammed into his head, and he disappeared beneath the surface.

“Kestwick!” Westhampton shouted. He turned to Cobb, and Cobb shrugged. It was clear that there was little they could do. Kestwick was much too far away for them to pull him in.