Authors: Candace Camp
“The fool,” Richard said shortly. “He’s gone. Let’s get back inside before we catch our deaths of cold. Then we’ll try to sort this all out.”
So it was that an hour later they were seated in the sitting room. Jessica, whom Gabriela, Rachel and one of the maids had hustled into warm, dry clothes and given a cup of hot tea liberally laced with brandy, now sat on the couch beside Richard, also dried off and warmed up. Everyone else was scattered around—Cobb, the Westhamptons, Miss Pargety, Mr. Goodrich, Darius Talbot, and even Radfield Addison, whom Richard had declared deserved to hear whatever they could find out about what had happened to his sister, despite his status as Cobb’s prisoner. Gaby had fussed about being excluded from the discussion, but both Richard and Jessica agreed that the subject was not one fit for her young years.
Each of them held a steaming cup of hot chocolate and listened as Jessica described what had transpired in her bedroom earlier, and how Lord Kestwick had inadvertently revealed that he had killed Mrs. Woods, then admitted that he had also been responsible for the destruction of Jessica’s jewelry box, as well as the break-ins at the General’s house and here in the nursery.
“But why?” Radfield asked, his voice wavering pitiably. “Why would he want to hurt Bets?”
“I think she threatened to reveal something about him. Apparently she knew him from before…in London. But he would not tell me what it was…or why that box was so important. I don’t understand it at all.”
“And we may never know,” Lord Westhampton said heavily.
“Don’t blame yourself, Michael,” Richard told him. “You did everything anyone could do to save him. He signed his own death warrant by swimming farther out into the pond.”
He turned and fixed Darius Talbot with a cold gaze. “However, I think that we might be able to learn a little more about what Kestwick was doing. Mr. Talbot?”
Darius, who had been sitting in his chair the whole time like a man turned to stone, shifted nervously and grew even paler under Cleybourne’s stare. “I don’t know,” he said, his voice coming out in a rasp. He cleared his throat and repeated. “I don’t know. I swear.”
“Did you help your friend Kestwick break into my home? And the General’s house?”
“No!” Darius clasped his hands together in his lap. “I tell you, I knew nothing about what he was doing. I—he—I met him in London at my club. It was shortly after his mother’s death, and I offered him my condolences. He said that he was going up to Norfolk to tell an old friend of his mother’s death—”
“Norfolk?” Jessica repeated. “Do you mean—he went to see General Streathern?”
Darius nodded. “Yes. I—I had no idea that you were there, of course.”
“Then Kestwick’s mother must have been the old friend whose death upset the General so,” Rachel mused. “It was when he read of her death that he suffered an apoplexy. He was…very fond of her.” She saw no reason to mention what the General had told her of his love for the woman.
Darius shrugged. “I don’t know. Kestwick didn’t say much about it. He just said he had to see the General and he asked if I would like to come with him. I was—” He looked slightly embarrassed. “I was rather pleased. He is an earl, and his father was an important man in the Government before he died. I knew Kestwick to chat with and so on, played cards together some, but we were not what one would call close friends. I was flattered that he had asked me to go with him.”
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?”
“I—well, it is a…a formal occasion.”
“What is?” Jessica sighed. “Please, Richard, just tell me. If you do not wish me to be here anymore, simply say so. I understand. But I cannot take all this introduction.”
“Not be here?” he repeated blankly. “What do you mean?”
Jessica frowned. “I mean, if you do not wish me to remain as Gabriela’s governess. If you want me to leave the house.”
He looked at her, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Miss Maitland, you are difficult to the end, I see. Yes, it is true that I do not wish you to remain as Gabriela’s governess.”
Jessica looked down quickly, unable to meet his eyes anymore. The pain in her chest was so searing it took a moment for his next words to register in her mind.
“However,” he went on, “I do not want you to leave the house. Now or at any other time. Jessica…I am asking you to marry me.”
Her head snapped up. “What!”
“I am asking you to marry me. To be the Duchess of Cleybourne.”
Jessica was glad she was sitting down already, for she thought her knees would have given out. “But…but…you can’t!”
“I can’t?” he repeated. “And why can I not, I’d like to know?”
“Well, it—it’s absurd. I am not your equal in station.”
“What nonsense. You come from a perfectly good family. And, anyway, I don’t know why it should make a difference to you if it doesn’t to me.”
“I am a governess.”
“It is not your fault you fell upon hard times,” he pointed out. “It is scarcely as if you had spent the past few years as a bird-of-paradise.”
“But a duke does not marry a governess.”
“Ah, but a duke does if he wants to. That is the best thing about being a duke, you see. I can marry exactly whom I choose. Who is going to reprimand me for it?”
“But, Richard, my father. The scandal. It would cast a cloud on your name.”
“My dear girl,” Richard said, standing up and reaching down to pull Jessica to her feet. “I am honored—and, I must admit, somewhat surprised—to find you so concerned about the Cleybourne name. However, I have to tell you that I do not think one scandal ten years ago—caused by your father, not you—would cast an enormous shadow on my family or title. And if it did, I don’t care. I don’t love my name. It doesn’t make me quiver with longing as you do, nor does my heart speed up whenever I see my coat of arms, as it does when I see you. I love you, Jessica. I want to marry you.”
“Richard…” Jessica looked at him, torn, unable to say anything. Everything within her cried out to accept, yet she knew that it was not right.
“Well, I have discovered how to render you speechless, I see. I suppose that is something.”
“But, Richard—you—I cannot replace Caroline. You still love her.”
“I’m not asking you to replace Caroline. Frankly, except in your beauty, you are nothing like her. You are not her. I am not looking for her. It is you I want. You are the one who keeps me awake at night, wanting you. You are the one who aggravates me so I want to shout. And you are the one who has brought me back to life. I was a shell when you came here. I was wallowing in my own misery, unable to pull myself out of the swamp I was in. Then you came in, and you—you brought light back into the house. Into my life. Oh, I sound like a moonling, I know, a lovesick calf of a boy, but that is how you make me feel.
“Yes, I loved Caroline. I still love her, in a way. But that does not mean that I don’t love you. I love you in an entirely different way. Caroline was a beautiful woman and I was a young man. I fell head-over-heels in love with her. I thought she was perfection. But the sad truth is that I didn’t even know her. I loved the woman I thought she was, but I don’t think that was really her at all. I thought we shared a love, but she never really loved me. At the end she was desperate to leave me. I couldn’t let go of the ideal I had of her. That was what I was trying to keep, not Caroline. My dream of her and my daughter. It wasn’t real.”
He took Jessica by the shoulders and pulled her to him, kissing her for a long, long time. When at last he pulled away, she was breathless.
“That is real. You are real. I know you. I don’t have to wonder if you are as I think or not. You will tell me exactly what you are and what you think, as well as precisely what you find wrong with me.”
Jessica could not keep from chuckling. “I thought that was why you disliked me.”