Page 43 of What Cannot Be Said

“And Malcolm’s sister Emma?”

Something flickered in the younger man’s eyes, something hidden by his thick, swiftly lowered lashes. He drew a deep breath before answering. “The violin concerto I was playing... it’s dedicated to her.”

“So you knew her?”

“How could I not, going to the house three times a week like that? She used to come and watch us fence. Sometimes—” he started to say, then broke off.

“Sometimes...?” prompted Sebastian.

Pitcairn swallowed and gave a vague shake of his head. “I still can’t believe she’s dead. Who would kill someone like that—a beautiful, vibrant young girl of sixteen? For no reason. No reason at all.”

“When was your last lesson with Malcolm?”

Pitcairn frowned in thought. “Last Wednesday. Why?”

“So, right before he and his cousin left for Scotland?”

He nodded. “I think they were planning to leave the next day.”

“Did he say anything to you about his mother and sister’s projected expedition to Richmond Park?”

“No. Why would he?”

“No reason that I can think of,” said Sebastian as he watched Pitcairn crouch down to rest his violin and bow in the case that lay open at his feet. “Who do you think killed Lady McInnis and her daughter?”

Pitcairn closed the case, then buckled the straps. “You don’t want to know.”

“You underestimate me.”

He looked up. “Do I? And if I said Sir Ivo? What then?”

Sebastian held himself very still. “What makes you suspect Sir Ivo?”

“Do you know he was accusing his wife of having an affair?”

Sebastian stared at him. “Lady McInnis was having an affair? With whom?”

Pitcairn shook his head. “I didn’t say she was having an affair. I said McInnis accused her of it.”

“How do you know this?”

“Emma told me.”

Emma, Sebastian noticed. Not Miss McInnis, not Malcolm’s sister, but Emma. Aloud, he said, “Why would she tell something so personal to her brother’s fencing master?”

Pitcairn straightened. “Because I found her crying. It seems they’d had a big row about it right before I arrived at the house that day for Malcolm’s lesson—Sir Ivo and Lady McInnis, I mean. Emma overheard it. She was upset and needed someone to talk to and... I was there.”

“When was this?”

“The last lesson before Malcolm left for Scotland, so that Wednesday.”

“Who was Sir Ivo accusing his wife of having an affair with?”

“If Emma knew, she didn’t tell me.”

Sebastian studied the younger man’s carefully guarded face. “Sir Ivo would hardly be the first man to kill his wife because he thought she was having an affair. But why would he kill his own sixteen-year-old daughter?”

“I assume she was killed by accident.”

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