Beatrice nodded and anticipated Ben’s next question.
“Did he look like the person you saw?”
Beatrice was about to nod but then stopped. Did he? Now that she came to think about it, she couldn’t be entirely sure who it was outside the window, only she knew it hadn’t been either her or Ben’s reflection.
“I can’t honestly say,” she replied apologetically.
When he didn’t seem inclined to say anything else, she sighed and turned her attention to the books at her feet.
Hours later, Ben yawned and glanced over at Beatrice, who was trying to ease the kinks out of her neck. He had seen so many plants and flowers now that he would be lucky if he could identify a daffodil, let alone any rare species.
If the boredom evident on Beatrice’s face was anything to go by, she felt exactly the same.
Luckily, the rain appeared to have stopped now, which was a shame given that there was no reason for him not to go home now. He glanced at the clock and was shocked to note that it was well past tea-time, and neither of them had stopped for lunch yet. Although they had drunk large volumes of tea, and had demolished the large slices of fruit cake hours ago, neither of them had really taken a proper, well-earned break. His stomach rumbled loudly and he threw her an apologetic glance, to which she smiled.
“Would you like to stay for dinner with me?” She had the good grace to look rather sheepish. “I am afraid that I completely forgot about luncheon.”
Ben opened his mouth to speak only for the rattle of the front door to stop him. He glanced at Beatrice and lifted his brows but, before he could stand up, several light taps were rapped out and Beatrice’s face suddenly lit up.
“That’s Maud. I bet she has raced home now that the rain has stopped.”
He immediately let the woman in.
“Hello, Mrs Partridge,” he said when the housekeeper appeared in the doorway.
“Oh, hello, Mr Addison. What a surprise it is to see you here,” the housekeeper replied warily. “Is everything alright?”
Ben briefly explained what had happened to Beatrice on the way home that had resulted in her injury, and nodded toward the foot she had propped up on the table.
“Well, I never,” Maud gasped. “It comes to something when you cannot even walk the country lanes anymore, doesn’t it?”
“Did you see any sign of the carriage in the lane?”
Maud shook her head as she gathered the tea things up and lifted the tray off the table. “I didn’t see anybody, sorry. Now then, I take it that you are staying for dinner, Mr Addison? We have a lovely roast beef joint with vegetables straight out of the garden.” She didn’t bother to stop to wait for Ben to agree, and hurried out of the room without a backward look.
“Sorry,” Beatrice said ruefully. “She tends to get a bit carried away sometimes.”
“No, it’s fine. Dinner would be lovely.”
He got the feeling that although Maud Partridge was ‘officially’ the housekeeper, the relationship she had with Beatrice, went far beyond that of employer and employee. Theirs was a relationship that ran more along the lines of companions and friends. Whatever their relationship, Ben was just that that Mrs Partridge lived there and Beatrice wasn’t left vulnerable and alone overnight.
Beatrice struggled to contain her delight at the thought that Ben would share dinner with her. She felt incredibly guilty as it was for not being able to offer him more than tea and cake throughout the afternoon but, with her injured ankle, she daren’t trust herself to carry a hot kettle, let alone the pots and pans she would need to cook a meal. Besides, Maud was just as territorial over her kitchen as her uncle had been over his study. She would have a fit if Beatrice messed with her pots and pans while she was away.
She settled back in her chair and picked up another book.
“Rare and Tropical Plant Species by Harry Toddington,” she read aloud and shared a rueful look with Ben.
It looked as interesting as mud but, nevertheless, she opened the front cover. Everything within her froze and she frowned down at the single sheet of paper that stared up at her. She didn’t even pick it up as she read the list of names and addresses written in bold script that was most definitely in her uncle’s handwriting.
Jules Sanders, Rydal Hove, Church Street, Great Tipton.
Richard Browning, 3 Carlton Terrace, Marchwell Bishop.
Brian Mottram, Belleview Cottage, Abercrome Street, Great Tipton.
Bernard Murray, No. 9 Church View, Main Street, Tipton Hollow.
“Ben,” Beatrice whispered as she read the names for the third time. Alarm settled deep in the pit of her stomach and she knew that she had just found something of real significance. What it was significant to she wasn’t quite sure yet, but she knew that the piece of paper in her hand just changed everything.
“I wonder if one of these men sent you the plant,” Ben murmured and frowned down at the names while he mentally plotted where each house would be. “Do you know if they are all botanists?”
Beatrice shook her head. “I am afraid that I have absolutely no idea.” She sat back in her chair with a disgusted sigh. “It is only now that I realise just how much my uncle kept me on the periphery of his life. I have no idea if any of these people were good friends of his, mere acquaintances, or people he just sourced out of a book somewhere.”
“Well, luckily they are all in this area, so it shouldn’t take too much effort to trace each individual and see if they had any connection to your uncle.” Ben nodded at the book she had apparently forgotten was still in her lap. “Any sign of the plant in there?”
Beatrice frowned at him for a moment before she stared blankly down at the open pages. “I haven’t had a look yet.”
To her utter consternation, the pages of the book opened to reveal a second sheet of paper which contained symbols, scribbled writing, and what looked like more Latin names. There was no proper drawing of the plant, but enough notes and ad hoc diagrams to assure her that what she held were cultivation notes for something. She looked down at the page where the paper had been carefully stored.
“Orchids,” she whispered, and felt herself go cold when she saw the carefully illustrated orchid on the page before her. “This one is a beautiful purple colour, but I think what we have is an orchid. Ophris Speculum; never heard of it.” She tipped her head and studied the picture. “Although the flower we have is different, the stem sketched in here is identical.” She turned the book around so Ben could study the illustration.
“It says that orchids are from tropical climates, Brazil, Solomon Islands, Papua New Guinea.” He stared in dismay at her. “If the one in the study is rare, if its parent plants come from say, Brazil and Papua New Guinea - two random countries - good Lord, it will be one of its kind. It could be the only one in the world.”
Beatrice felt herself start to tremble. “Extremely rare means very valuable,” she whispered. “No wonder that man wants it.”
“Given what was written on the packaging paper, it is rare. It hints that someone would call and try to get it off you,” Ben sighed in disgust. “Beatrice, just what on earth is going on?”
“I don’t know Ben, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it is trouble.” The look she gave him silently begged for honesty. “Do you think that the carriage that almost ran me down had intended to hit me?”
“Let’s not get carried away. It could just be one of those things. Right now we cannot jump to conclusions. I think,” he looked at her frankly, “and it is just my opinion you understand, I am not telling you what you should do, but I think that the first thing to do is pay a visit to the people on this list. We need to find out if it is possible to cultivate a plant such as the one we have. Then we need to establish if any of the people on this list knew your uncle. We need to find out if they were involved in cultivating rare plants, especially this one.” He held up the paper with the notes on. “These look like scientific notes of some kind, but Latin is not my strong point. I have no idea what these
names could mean. We need to get them transcribed by someone reliable and see if they are notes about the plant in the study.”
Although Beatrice nodded, she doubted that her uncle had anything to do with the plant in the study. She couldn’t see how Matthew could have cultivated something like that without either Maud or herself seeing it, or becoming aware of the smell. She just knew that this plant; this rare orchid, belonged to someone else. Unfortunately, had no idea who that someone else was; and why they had chosen to leave it with her.
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask Ben if he would help her arrange to meet with the people on the list, but then felt incredibly guilty about everything he had done for her so far. It didn’t seem right to impose on him any further. He had been kind, generous, caring, and had asked for nothing in return. While he seemed happy to do it, she didn’t feel comfortable asking him for more.
“I will wait until I am back on my feet and then arrange to visit them.” Although her words were confident, she frowned at the thought of arranging to meet with strangers.
“Look, I have to confess to you that I am intrigued by the whole mystery and I don’t want to just walk away and leave you to it,” Ben announced flatly. “Especially given that we don’t know if the incident with the carriage was mere circumstance. I would like to continue to help you with this mystery, if I may? Why don’t I come with you to meet with them? You know, for moral support.” He read the indecision on her face and tried a different tack. “I don’t think it is right and proper for you to knock on any of the men’s doors. After all, we don’t know if the man who came to call is one of the people on the list. If he is, I really don’t think it is a good idea for you to knock on his door without a chaperone, and a male one at that.”
He didn’t add that the man looked positively dangerous and was not someone he wanted Beatrice to spend any time with.
“But I have put on you enough already. It doesn’t seem fair to impose on your good nature anymore. You have been so kind and helpful to me that I cannot thank you enough. I don’t know how to repay you.”
“Thank me by letting me help you with this, Beatrice. It is really important to me that I am here to help you. You are not putting on me at all. I want to do this. It goes against every masculine instinct I have to just walk away and leave you to face this alone. Just let me help you. Please?”
The soft plea in his voice was more than enough to convince Beatrice that she wanted him by her side throughout all of this. She had no idea if the plant’s arrival was all stuff and nonsense, and really wasn’t anything other than someone returning a beautiful plant without realising that her uncle was now dead. If she was honest, she didn’t want to meet with strange men, whoever they were, and would be immensely reassured to have Ben beside her – again. He clearly didn’t mind being involved, and was more intrigued than annoyed.
What harm could it do? She mused silently. You know you want to spend more time with him. This is a perfect opportunity to do just that.
Decision made, she gave him a grateful smile. “If you are sure that I am not putting you out too much, that would be wonderful. I have to confess that I really would feel considerably better if I had someone with me. Thank you.”
“Excellent. That’s settled then. One point I would like to make though,” he added and gave her a pointed look. “I think that before we go and knock on any doors, we need to get these notes transcribed. Then, once we know whether the notes relate to the plant in the study or not, we will have a better idea of what questions to ask them.”
Beatrice thought about that for a moment and then nodded. “I agree. We cannot really ask anyone anything if we don’t know what we are asking about.” She frowned at that and wondered if it made sense.
Ben seemed to understand though because he nodded. “Let’s go to the university tomorrow morning. I am sure there will be a Latin scholar there who will be able to oblige.”
Beatrice realised then just how little she knew about him and stared at the floor for several minutes while she contemplated how to ask him what he did for a living. She opened her mouth to speak only for him to interrupt her.
“How are your drawing skills?”
“Pardon?”
Ben smiled at her and nodded in the direction of the study. “I think that we need to draw a picture of the plant. We can hardly take it with us to meet anyone. If we take a sketch with us, at least we will have something to show the men on the list when we go to see them.”
She studied him and wondered why she hadn’t thought of it herself. “That sounds like a good idea, but I cannot draw.”
“I will do it,” he assured her secretively. “Look, I know that your ankle hurts but, if you are able to hobble around tomorrow, why don’t we go to see the first person on the list once we have been to the university? The sooner we can find out who owns the plant, the sooner we can move it on to its rightful owner. If the plant does turn out to belong to the stranger, and he can prove who he is, then we can hand it over and call this mystery solved.”
“I think you are right,” she agreed, pleased to be able to have some idea of how to handle the situation.
“Tomorrow morning then?”
“That would be wonderful,” Beatrice beamed.
“Dinner’s ready,” Maud called from the doorway only to lift her brows in surprised wonder at the winning smile Ben gave her.
CHAPTER SIX
The following morning Beatrice rolled over in bed and sighed contentedly. The morning sunshine bathed her in gentle warmth that soothed her right down to her soul. It helped to eradicate the lingering worries from yesterday, and she smiled gently up at the ceiling as she remembered the rather unusual events of yesterday.
Now that she was safely tucked up in bed, she felt a little foolish for her nervousness.
If she was honest, she was a little shocked at just how much could change in a short period of time. She had once considered Ben to be cold and aloof, but knew now that he was anything but. He was tender, compassionate, caring and incredibly gentle, as well as strong, determined, logical and considerate. He was everything she had ever considered she wanted in a mate, and more besides, and she was more than a little thrilled that he appeared to be as interested in her as she was in him.
Wait a minute, when have you ever started to consider him a prospective mate? That thought was enough to make her sit up in bed and frown into the dressing table mirror at the end of the bed.
She wasn’t quite sure what to make of that particular thought. While she was thrilled that someone as strikingly handsome as Ben was interested in her; she was a little nonplussed at the prospect of sharing her life with any man. She had been orphaned at a relatively young age, and her world had careered wildly out of control for a very long period of time. Now, as an adult, she liked to control the world around her as much as possible. The thought of having to hand over any amount of control to a husband who would expect to be head of the household, was something that didn’t sit too well with her.
Although they hadn’t been all that close, life with her uncle had suited her perfectly. He had lived in his study and only ventured out for church on Sunday, or mealtimes. She had spent her days doing what she liked, under the watchful gaze of Maud. It had worked well for all of them because she had been left to make the important decisions about the way the house was run without interference, her uncle had been able to focus on his beloved work, and Maud had been left to carry out her job as she saw fit. As long as the house was clean and there was food on the table at mealtimes, her uncle had been happy, and Beatrice had been relatively content; if a little bored.
When the hallway clock began to chime, Beatrice lay still and counted the bongs.
“Oh Lord, he is going to be here any minute,” she whispered in horror as she threw the covers back and jumped out of bed. Luckily, her ankle was now just a little stiff and sore, and no longer painful. She could now put her weight on it, and was at least able to hurry to the wash-st
and to carry out her ablutions without having to stumble and hop.
While she washed she thought about the meal she had shared with Ben last night. It had been rather intimate and, although they had been in the formal dining room, the soft glow of the candlelight and gentle flicker of the flames from the fire had embraced them both in an ambience that had been utterly charming.
A soft smile curved her lips as she remembered the way his hand had captured hers while they had sipped their wine. His eyes had seemed to darken over the solitary candle that had sat on the table between them, but it was the shimmer of promise in his eyes that had held her spellbound. The gentle kiss he had given her when he had reluctantly taken his leave more than an hour later had sealed that sensual promise, and held her captivated long after he had turned out of the driveway with one final wave through the darkness.
It had been a wonderful evening, she mused dreamily as she stepped into a clean dress.
She made a mental note to thank Maud for the meal, and only then realised that the house was unusually quiet. There was no clattering of the grate as Maud swept out the fires, or chinking of pots and pans in the kitchen as she prepared breakfast. What on earth was going on? As far as she knew Maud wasn’t due to go to market until tomorrow, so where could she be?
A worried frown marred her brow as she made her way around the bed to the window. She drew back the curtains and looked out into the garden in case Maud was pegging the washing out. To her consternation the garden was empty.
“What on earth?” Her frown darkened as she studied a strange bundle of something at the far end of the garden, right at the edge of the trees. She studied what looked like a large bundle of rags, but it didn’t look like a pile of washing. Why would someone leave a pile of rags at the end of her garden?
Her thoughts turned to the strange figure she had seen in the window yesterday, followed by the visit from the even stranger man. Had he got anything to do with the object?
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