Beatrice

by King, Rebecca

  Beatrice leaned back to look up at him. “Judging from the state of Jules Sanders, we are in a lot of danger.”

  “Unless the killer intends to murder everyone who helped to cultivate it,” Ben mused wryly. “That being the case, why could he possibly want you as one of his victims?”

  He tried to reassure her but, as he spoke, even he wasn’t convinced by what he said. Neither was Beatrice apparently, because she leaned back to look up at him with a frown.

  “To get his hands on the wretched thing,” she declared flatly.

  Ben looked down at her. “We need to move the plant out of the house, and hide it somewhere else. I really don’t want you alone with that blasted thing. Hargraves is just a little too persistent to be ignored and, while I am not suggesting for a second that he is the killer, we cannot just sit idly by and wait for him to call back.”

  She shivered and leaned against him for a moment. “I don’t want you to have it in your house either, Ben,” she whispered. “I mean, if that plant is dangerous, the danger goes with the plant. I don’t want you to get hurt purely because you are a kind and generous man who has been dragged into this purely through a good deed.”

  This was not the time or place for an argument, so he let the matter drop for now and leaned back to look deeply into her eyes. Luckily, although fear lingered, she had stopped shaking and was now a little calmer.

  “Let’s go and find that constable,” he murmured, and escorted her out of the yard. “Then we will decide what to do with the plant.”

  If he had taken a moment to glance back and study the yard behind him, he would have seen the door to the coal house close ever so carefully as soon as the gate was shut.

  At the front of the house, Beatrice climbed aboard the carriage and was suddenly glad that the road around them was empty, and nobody had been outside to witness the length of time they had been in the house. Finding two dead bodies in the space of a week was bad enough but, when connected to the list of names they had found and the fact that they shouldn’t have been at Jules Sanders’ house in the first place, the finger of suspicion for the murders could very firmly be pointed in their direction, and neither of them would have any grounds to argue.

  “I don’t think it is mere circumstance that Hargraves was in the market today,” Beatrice whispered with a shiver.

  “I know,” Ben sighed and he drew her against his side, more for his sake than hers. She looked so pale now that he suddenly wished that they hadn’t gone to Jules Sanders’ house in the first place, but it was too late now. “I think that he followed us here. However, we cannot start to point fingers at him for Jules Sanders’ death just because he lives on Southside.”

  “Maybe it is me, and I am seeing shadows where there are none,” she whispered morosely.

  She could positively feel the presence of the house they were leaving behind, and it made her want to ask Ben to hurry up so they could get out of the area. She didn’t relish being the policemen who had to go in there, deal with the body, and investigate the death. It was all so sinister and macabre that she suddenly had a whole new respect for the work they carried out.

  “It’s not you, Beatrice. After the events of the last few days, it is perfectly reasonable for you to have a few collywobbles, darling. I have to confess that I have had a few too. We had no idea this was going to happen, so cannot be blamed for any of it.”

  “I am sorry I got you into this mess,” she declared, and threw him an apologetic look. “You were only helping me. Look at what you have been immersed in, all because of an act of kindness. I truly am sorry.”

  If she was honest, she wished now that she hadn’t accepted his help in the field, and sent him on his way just like she had when they had been on the lane. At least then he wouldn’t be in the middle of the chaos her life had descended into.

  Having said that, on an entirely different and more selfish level, she was glad that he was there because she knew that if she had been alone, she would have been a babbling bag of nerves by now.

  “Don’t, Beatrice,” Ben muttered and dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “We have been through this already. I am not sorry at all that I got involved in this. I could have done without the dead bodies I will grant you but, on the whole, I am glad that you don’t have to go through this alone.”

  He was forced to turn his attention to guiding the carriage through the increasingly heavy traffic for several moments but, as soon as there was a lull, he turned back to her. “There is one good thing to come out of all of this,” he said as he gave her a warm look of reassurance.

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  “Us.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The following morning, Beatrice finished her ablutions and tidied her bedroom in a thoughtful daze that left her more worried than ever. Following Ben’s declaration that their relationship was the best thing to come out of this entire mystery; with which she wholeheartedly agreed; their day had deteriorated dramatically.

  The endless round of questions at the police station had left them both worried and exhausted in equal measure, and they had left Great Tipton in a tense silence that was a little unnerving.

  To her consternation, Ben had refused her offer to dine with her, and had insisted on taking the plant home with him before he had quietly left her on her doorstep. It was only when he had turned out of the end of the driveway that she realised he had made no plans to see her again. Had he grown tired of the trouble she brought him? Had facing questions from the police made him realise that this was no jolly old mystery; but something very real, and incredibly dangerous?

  She quietly made her way downstairs, and found Maud already in the kitchen. Beatrice looked at the breakfast tray that awaited her with keen disinterest and took a seat at the table.

  “I’ll eat in here,” she sighed quietly.

  “Are you alright dear?”

  Beatrice studied the housekeeper thoughtfully for a moment, and quickly recounted yesterday’s events. Upon learning of Jules Sanders’ death, the housekeeper slumped down into the chair opposite and stared in horror at Beatrice.

  “Good heavens. All this over a plant,” Maud exclaimed. “If I was in your shoes, the next time Hargraves comes calling, I would throw that awful plant at him and forget about it. The damned thing is cursed.”

  “I have to admit that I rather agree with you.” Beatrice absently buttered a piece of toast and began to nibble on it while Maud poured them both a cup of tea. “However, when Ben left here yesterday, he insisted on taking the plant over to his house. I cannot help but think that the danger has just shifted to his back door though. It doesn’t seem right that he should shoulder the burden of having the wretched thing in his house. Especially given that two people connected to it have been murdered.”

  “I know dear, but he is protecting you in the only way he knows how.”

  “But at what cost?” Beatrice countered. “Two men have been killed because of that plant. I don’t want Ben to be the killer’s third victim.”

  “You like him a lot, don’t you?”

  Beatrice shared a rueful look with Maud and nodded. “Of course I do. What is not to like about him? He is kind, considerate, helpful, gentle, caring, strong, and has rescued me on more than one occasion. He is simply wonderful.”

  The fervency in which she spoke warmed Maud down to her bones. Even she had to admit that Ben had more than proven his worth over the last few days by the way he had protected Beatrice from Hargraves, and had always been on hand to help her when she needed it the most. It was rather remarkable really given that only last week they hadn’t even been talking to each other. Still, there was nothing as strange as the course of true love. In spite of the newness of their acquaintance she knew, with absolute certainty, that if any two people were meant to be together, it was Beatrice and Ben.

  “Don’t forget that we have the Circle meeting here tonight,” she declared and watched Beatrice wrinkle her nose up ruefully. “Now don’t
look like that. It is only one evening. Besides, it will do you good to think about something else for a change.”

  “Perhaps you are right,” Beatrice mused thoughtfully. “It would be nice to see the ladies and just do something normal for a change.”

  If only Ben was there, she sighed, missing him more than ever.

  If she was honest, it was a little unnerving to realise just how important he had become to her in such a short space of time. While she was glad that their relationship was progressing as it was, she had to admit that she had absolutely no idea what was supposed to happen between them next. Should she contact him and ask him if he was alright? Should she merely wait for him to call by her house again? She wished now that she had prompted him to arrange to see her again before he had left yesterday because now she felt somewhat lost that he wasn’t there to talk to.

  Maud stood and began to clear the pots away, leaving Beatrice alone at the table with her thoughts.

  When boredom began to bite, Beatrice made her way into the sitting room and began to leaf through the books at her feet. However, now that they knew what type of plant was in Ben’s house there didn’t seem to be any point poring through them for information they already had. She quickly gathered the books into one neat pile and returned them into the study.

  Even though the plant was no longer there, its pungent aroma still hung in the air and she contemplated whether she should open the window a little to let some fresh air in. Before she could decide what to do, a knock on the door broke into her thoughts and she hurried to the door as Maud hurried by to see who it was.

  “It’s only Ben,” Maud called seconds later.

  Beatrice slumped with relief and hurried into the hallway. At any other time she would have been a little disconcerted by the force of the overwhelming emotion that had swept through her but, right now, she was just overjoyed that he was there.

  “Only me?” Ben drawled teasingly as he stepped inside. His eyes met Beatrice’s, and she sighed in delight at the happiness evident on his face. “I am glad that I am such an important visitor here,” he added without rancour.

  “Phah!” Maud scolded and gave him a teasing look before she turned away. “You are practically one of the family, and you know it.” She didn’t wait for him to respond and hurried into the kitchen. “I’ll put the kettle on,” she said to Beatrice only for Ben to stop her.

  “Not for me, thank you Maud,” Ben replied, loud enough for Maud to hear. “Beatrice, I thought that we might go to Richard Browning’s house today. He may not be in, but that doesn’t matter really. I thought it would be nice to get out and enjoy the sunshine for a while. We can probably stop off somewhere along the way for a bite to eat, if you like?”

  “That would be lovely,” she replied with a delighted smile. Although he smiled back, Beatrice sensed that there was more he wanted to say, and wondered if he really wanted a quiet word alone with her. Her smile dimmed and her stomach flipped with nerves as she remembered his somewhat distant behaviour yesterday. She couldn’t help but wonder if he had second thoughts about a relationship with her, and almost dreaded hearing what he had to say.

  “Oh, alright,” Maud sighed, completely oblivious to the undercurrent of tension that hovered between the couple. “Beatrice, I was going to ask if you would mind if I went over to Esther’s, to help sort out the things for the rummage sale today. If you are out for lunch, I don’t have to hurry back.”

  “Don’t hurry back just for me. I can manage,” Beatrice assured her.

  “The Circle is due tonight, so I will be back in time to make sure there is enough to eat. Is there anything you want me to pick up while I am in the village?” Maud asked, but included Ben in her look of enquiry.

  “I am alright, I don’t need anything,” Beatrice assured her.

  “Me either, but thank you anyway,” Ben added, delighted that Maud had indeed started to treat him like one of the family. “We will drop you off at Esther’s house now, if you are ready?” He lifted a brow to Maud, who nodded and hurried off.

  Within minutes they were heading toward Tipton Hollow.

  “Marchwell Bishop should take about an hour to get to,” Ben reported once the door to Esther’s house had closed behind Maud. He gave Beatrice a somewhat secretive smile. “I have a little surprise for you.”

  “Do I get any hints?”

  In spite of the sunny day, Beatrice firmly pushed her worries to one side and snuggled contentedly into her shawl as she sat back to enjoy the day. Although it was a little cooler than usual, the sun was out and, luckily, there was no sign of any thunderclouds in the beautiful blue sky. It was going to be a very fine day indeed.

  “Not yet,” he grinned as they left Tipton Hollow. “Just sit back and enjoy our day out.”

  He didn’t tell her that when he had gotten out of bed earlier, he had intended to spend the day catching up on the huge mound of paperwork on his desk. However, as soon as he had taken a seat, he had realised that he would prefer to be outside with Beatrice instead. He had tried to ignore the urge to go to her, but had been unable to think about anything other than where she was, and what she was doing. Eventually he had given up, put his pencil down and hurried over to Brantley Manor.

  “What had you intended to do today?” He asked as they left the worst of the village traffic behind them.

  She smiled at him. “I was contemplating whether to offer Uncle Matthew’s old books to the university. Luckily, you saved me from having to pack everything up.”

  He grinned at her. “Have you thought about asking Mr Harrington if he would like them?”

  She nodded. “I cannot really see many people in Tipton Hollow having the need for a lot of botany books,” she replied ruefully.

  “Now that you have made contact with Archie, I am sure he wouldn’t mind if you asked him,” Ben replied thoughtfully. “I will come with you, if you want me to?”

  If he was honest, he wanted to meet the old man again. Now that he had had a chance to think over the meeting a bit more carefully, there were several things about the old man’s behaviour that was a bit odd. He could just about overlook the mistake over the handwriting; but there was something about the man’s fluid movement that bespoke of someone who was considerably younger than their purported age that warned him something was seriously amiss.

  He quickly shoved his thoughts aside as he read the signpost up ahead. “Right, Marchwell Bishop it is.”

  “We are going to get in awful trouble with the police for doing this, you know,” Beatrice murmured ruefully when Ben had taken the turn into the road that led to Richard Browning’s house.

  “We are not getting ourselves involved in the murder investigation, Beatrice,” Ben reasoned. “We are just trying to establish who owns the plant so we can either move it on to its rightful owner, or you can prove it is yours and get rid of Sigmund Hargraves once and for all.”

  “I know, but I can’t help but feel that Mark is going to be cross,” Beatrice argued weakly.

  “Yes, but he also said that he would get the cultivation notes translated and sent over to us, but we haven’t seen anything of the detective who is supposed to be dealing with the case while Mark is away. Look how quickly we got the notes translated ourselves. We now know that the cultivation notes go with the plant that was delivered, and the four people on the list were involved in the cultivation. By visiting Richard Browning, we can hopefully find out who owns the plant, and get it out of the house before Mark comes back from London.”

  She had to agree with him. The sooner she could close the door on this entire ordeal, the happier she would be; not only for herself, but for Ben as well.

  Ben sighed and glanced at her. “If the plant was owned by Brian Mottram, and he delivered it to you before he died, then I think you have every legal right to go to a solicitor. He can prepare a letter for you to hand to Hargraves the next time he calls. If Hargraves, or his boss, has any legal claim to it, they can contact the solicitor directly.�
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  “I understand, but I really don’t know if a plant is worth the trouble,” Beatrice sighed. “My uncle was the botanist, not me. While I love to garden, and enjoy spending as much time as possible in mine, I have no interest in rare and tropical species. To be honest with you, Ben, I really don’t like the plant, and cannot see why I should go to the trouble of trying to keep it.”

  “You want to hand it over to Hargraves?” Ben asked incredulously. Although the plant belonged to Beatrice, everything within him objected to the thought of her giving it to someone like their persistent caller. To his relief, Beatrice seemed to echo his sentiment.

  “No, oh no. Of course not. I wouldn’t give Sigmund Hargraves anything. Unfortunately, at the moment, I cannot prove that he isn’t the rightful owner though.”

  “Do you want to forget about going to Richard Browning’s house, and just go for a day out?” Ben suggested hopefully after several minutes of contented silence. He suddenly didn’t want to do anything that would spoil such a perfect morning.

  Beatrice thought about that for a moment and sighed. “Given that we are already heading in the direction of his house, we should at least drop by and see if he is available to meet with us,” she reasoned. “I want to at least see him so I would recognise him if we ever met in the future. I have to confess that I liked Archie, he appears to be a nice man. However, Uncle Matthew never mentioned him and I cannot help but wonder why. I mean, if they were good friends like Archie claimed, why did he not call by to at least share a cup of tea? I have never heard of the man before.” She glanced at Ben with a frown. “Not only that, but he said that your handwriting on the packaging paper was Uncle Matthew’s.”