Page 83 of The Hidden Heart

He faltered to a stop, and Richard said, “Go on, Mr. Talbot. What happened then?”

“Well, we drove up to this town, Little Pilton.”

“That’s not far from the General’s house,” Jessica put in. “But when was this? Kestwick didn’t call on the General.”

Darius looked at her, surprised. “Yes, he did. He called on the General the night before the old fellow died. We heard about it the next day, and Kestwick was most astonished. He said the man had seemed in fair health the night before when he told him about Lady Kestwick’s death. He was afraid the news had upset him more than he had let on.”

“The General already knew about her death,” Jessica said flatly. “He’d known about it for over a week. Kestwick killed him. I don’t know how or why, but I saw it in his eyes when he was talking. He killed the General. I accused him, and he did not deny it.”

“That’s nonsense!” Darius exclaimed.

“Is it?” Jessica retorted. “Kestwick didn’t come to call on the General. At least, not openly. No one in the house saw him. He must have entered secretly. And killed him.” She paused, then added, “But why?”

“From what you have said, he wanted that box that the General left you,” Rachel pointed out.

“Yes. But why? What about that box would have been worth killing someone for?”

“He was powerfully interested in some box,” Darius agreed. “He—I think that was why he wanted to come this way on our journey back to London. We stayed in an inn near here for a day or two before it snowed.”

“That gave him the chance to break into the castle to look for it.”

“I guess,” Darius said miserably. “I wasn’t aware that he had gone out at night. I couldn’t understand why we were here. It was damned dull. But, well, Kestwick wasn’t the sort one questioned.” He paused and sighed, then added, “I think he arranged to have the accident with the mail coach. I—it seemed to me at the time almost as if he headed toward the thing. I decided that he must not be a skillful driver, and, of course, one wouldn’t want to criticize a friend’s driving skill.”

“Mmm. Especially one so important,” Richard added.

Darius colored. “Perhaps I was foolish. But I had no idea. How could I?”

“He wanted a way to get into this house so he could search at his leisure,” Richard surmised. “Was it he who suggested that you make a pest of yourself with Miss Maitland?”

Darius’s color went from pink to a bright red. “He, well…” He buried his head in his hands and said in a muffled tone, “Yes. He—he asked me to try to find out about what sort of box Jessica had received from the General. He told me that he had read Streathern’s will. I didn’t know that he meant he had broken into the house to do so. He said that the old man had left Jessica money and this box in his will, and that Jessica and Streathern had—the two of them had been—” He broke off and cast a glance at Richard.

Cleybourne returned his gaze stonily. “I suggest that you do not finish that calumny, Mr. Talbot, or you are very likely to find yourself out in the snow, bag and baggage…and nursing a number of bruises. I trust I have made myself clear.”

“Um, yes. Yes, certainly. I understand, I assure you,” Darius told him quickly. “I would never repeat such a lie, I swear. I realize now how wrong he was. But at the time, well, I did not know. I believed him, trusted him. I agreed to talk to Jessica, to see if I could persuade her to tell me about the box.”

“But why?” Rachel asked, puzzled. “What is in that box that is so important?”

“That’s just it!” Jessica exclaimed. “There was nothing in it but a few old keepsakes of the General’s—a few of his medals, some old-fashioned jewelry, not anything terribly expensive.”

“But it was obviously important to him. When Talbot failed to woo you, Kestwick stole your jewelry box from her dresser, doubtless thinking that it was the box in question.”

“But why did he tear it up?” Rachel asked.

Darius shook his head quickly. “I know nothing about that. I did not even know that he had taken it until Miss Maitland said so this evening.”

“I imagine he was expressing his frustration and anger,” Richard answered. “Whatever it was he wanted, he had the wrong box, so he obviously did not find it. So he smashed the box in a fit of rage. Whatever he wanted, the man was a lunatic.”

The group broke up soon after that, drifting away to their rooms to dress for supper. Jessica, tired and rather frustrated by not knowing why Lord Kestwick had done what he did, rose from the chair and started toward the door, but Richard came forward to stop her.

“Wait, if you would, Miss Maitland,” he said formally. “I would like to speak to you for a moment if you don’t mind.”

“No. Of course not.” Jessica turned back to him. His face was very serious, and her heart sank a little. She wondered if he was going to tell her that he regretted what had happened between them, after all, that he had reconsidered it and saw that it would be too likely to create a scandal—or that he could not do it, given his memories of Caroline.

She walked back to the sofa and sat down, composing herself. When the last visitor had left, Richard closed the door and walked over to Jessica. He sat down on the couch, turned so that he was close to facing her. For a long moment there was silence. Jessica looked up at him, steeling herself for whatever he was about to say.

“Miss Maitland, you must be aware of the regard in which I hold you,” he began.

Jessica looked at him blankly. “What? Why are you talking like that?”