Beatrice (12 page)

“Does
this look like his writing?”

“I am
not sure. My uncle used to write in spidery scrawl. It was highly
unusual for him to write in block capitals like this. I have tried
to compare the handwriting on these notes to his writing, but it is
really difficult to tell for certain if they are one and the
same.”

Mark
compared the writing, and knew what she meant. However, the more he
studied them, the more he suspected that the notes had been written
by a third person.

“Where
did you find them?” He placed both pieces of paper back onto the
table with a sigh.

“They
were tucked away in this book on Rare and Tropical plants. We know
from this that the plant we have is definitely an orchid, however
we cannot find our particular variety. There is nothing even
remotely similar to it in there.”

“It is
most probably rare,” Mark conceded thoughtfully.

“We
think that the notes we have relate to the cultivation of the rare
variety that arrived yesterday,” Beatrice sighed.

“I think
you need to be very careful, Beatrice. Leave the investigation to
us,” Mark said quietly. “It may be that this man had the plant and
was killed over it. Someone may come and ask for it
back.”

Beatrice
swallowed and felt a little sick. “Like Hargraves has.”

“I am
not suggesting for one second that he is the killer. However, for
the time being, do not, under any circumstances, let any strangers,
especially Hargraves, into this house. Keep the doors locked and
don’t answer the door to anyone you don’t know. I would also
strongly recommend that you don’t go out at night, and try not to
walk the lanes.” He mentally winced at just how many orders he had
given her. He had effectively placed her under house arrest and
knew from the mulish look on her face that she wasn’t going to
comply.

“I
refuse to be a prisoner in my own home,” she retorted
flatly.

Although
the words sounded confident, a small voice reminded her about the
incidents in the lane yesterday. She began feel a little sick at
the prospect of just how dire her situation could have been. “While
I agree not to answer the door to strangers, and will now keep it
locked whenever I am at home, I do have a life to live. I cannot
just stay at home and wait. I have to go about my daily life and,
given where I live, it is impossible to go anywhere without using
the lanes.”

“Getting
about isn’t a problem, Beatrice. I can take you in the carriage,”
Ben assured her. “It is safer than you walking. Given how proud
Hargraves is of his carriage, I doubt that he would be foolish
enough to crash into us.”

Beatrice
felt the small hairs on the back of her neck stand on
end.

That being the case,
she
thought.
Why did he risk damaging his
carriage by attempting to run me over yesterday?

She
turned her attention back to Ben and she frowned when his eyes met
and held hers meaningfully for several long moments. She had no
doubt that he too was thinking about the journey they had planned
to take today, however neither of them mentioned it in front of
Mark and Isaac. She wondered if Ben was going to succumb to Mark’s
dictates by forgetting about visiting the people on the list
either. Somehow she doubted it.

“Look, I
have to go to London tomorrow to give evidence at this trial for
the clairvoyants. I am going to be gone for the rest of the week,
but will hand over some of the investigative work to my colleagues
to continue with while I am away. They need to check out Hargraves’
address, and work on identifying the deceased. He may be one of the
men on the list, we don’t know yet. I just don’t want you getting
involved in this any more than you already have, Beatrice. This is
a dead body we have here, not a note of warning.”

She
nodded and reluctantly admitted that he was right. Still, the
thought of having to sit around and do nothing while he toddled off
to London to deal with the court case, didn’t sit well with her at
all. Just thinking about all of that inertia made her want to
fidget.

It took
an age before Mark had finished asking his questions, and issuing
orders. Eventually, both he and Isaac appeared to be satisfied that
they had enough to go on and quietly left.

“What
are we going to do now?” She asked Ben when Mark and Isaac had gone
to speak to several constables who were scouring the garden for
clues, and they were alone in the kitchen.

“We need
to think carefully about what we do from now on, Beatrice. This is
no game. This is a real murder investigation,” he warned on a sigh
as he moved to stand beside her.

She tore
her gaze away from the men outside and looked up at him. “I don’t
know how to thank you for all of this,” she murmured quietly. “You
have done so much for me, and haven’t uttered a word in
protest.”

“I
really don’t mind,” he assured her.

Her
snort of disbelief was loud. “I have dragged you into a murder
investigation.”

Ben
looked down into her eyes and was immediately ensnared by her
feminine beauty. “I don’t want to be anywhere else, Beatrice,” he
whispered and slid an arm around her waist to draw her against
him.

“I need
to check on Maud,” Beatrice whispered, but made no attempt to
move.

“How are
you coping with all of this, Beatrice?” Ben murmured, and tipped
her head up until she looked at him. “A lot has happened in such a
very space of time.”

“I
know,” she sighed, although wasn’t entirely sure if he was talking
about the strange events surrounding the plant, or their
relationship. “To think that only the day before yesterday I
thought life was boring.”

Ben
chuckled and shook his head. “Be careful what you wish
for.”

“I
know,” she sighed. In all of her life she had never thought that
having someone like Ben in her life was possible, yet here he was;
everything she had ever wished for in one tall, dark and handsome
package.

Before
she could say anything else, his head started to lower toward hers.
While she knew that it would be foolhardy to allow anything to
happen between them on such a short acquaintance, curiosity kept
her perfectly still.

The soft
brush of his lips against hers was barely more than a whisper. She
felt his warm breath against her cheek as his lips swept tenderly
against hers. The tender gesture was soon repeated, the second time
more firmly, before his lips finally settled completely over
hers.

He
hesitated for a moment and assessed her for any sign of reluctance
or objection. To his relief, he saw nothing in her slightly dazed
blue eyes other than acceptance and raw need. The passion that was
etched on her face tested his powers of control to the point that
he knew resistance was futile. His mouth settled over hers more
fully when passion became too much for either of them to resist and
he drew her tighter against him while his lips
plundered.

How long
they savoured each other, Beatrice had no idea. Her head swam with
the delightful sensations he brought forth within her. It was all
she could do to cling to his shirt and allow him to
plunder.

The
sudden knock on the door was loud, and so unexpected that they both
jumped apart guiltily. Ben smothered a curse as he leaned away from
the temptation of her curves. However, he couldn’t turn away, or
remove his hands from her waist and sever all contact completely,
and remained where he was while he tried to gather his scattered
wits about him.

“I am
not going to apologise for that, Beatrice,” he declared harshly. He
was prevented from saying anything more when the knocking sounded
again.

He threw
her an apologetic look and yanked open the door to find Mark on the
doorstep. It was only then that he realised he had been kissing
Beatrice right in front of the window where any of the constables
outside could have seen them. His eyes met and held Mark’s for a
moment, and knew that the Detective Inspector had witnessed their
embrace. However, professional to the core, Mark made no mention of
it as he stepped into the kitchen.

“The
body has gone now. One of the men has found boot prints outside of
the study window like you said, and they look like a match for the
boots on the corpse.”

“So he
was most probably looking through the window to make sure we
received the plant,” she gasped, and suddenly felt very sorry for
him.

To do
something as innocuous as deliver a plant, and die for it, was
something she couldn’t quite come to terms with. It seemed such a
nonsensical waste of a life that she suddenly felt a wave of anger
and disgust toward Hargraves for his bullying antics.

“Are you
alright?” Ben asked as he read the flash of something undefined in
her eyes. Although she nodded, he wasn’t convinced and held an arm
out to her.

She
moved closer to him and didn’t object when he slid a comforting arm
around her waist. However, it did little to ease her burning anger
toward her persistent visitor who seemed reluctant to take ‘no’ for
an answer.

“It
looks like it,” Mark agreed. “Right now, we just don’t know what it
is about that plant that makes is so sought after.”

“We will
continue to look through the books in Matthew’s study to see if we
can identify it. However, we may need to contact one of the
scholars at the university to get the words on the notes
transcribed.” Ben lifted his brows at Mark hopefully. “Unless you
know Latin?”

Mark
shook his head. “Look, I will arrange for one of my men to take the
diagrams to one of the scholars. He can wait while it is
transcribed and can send you a copy of the transcription once he
has it. You can then check if it is as rare as we think it is. When
Isaac and I get back from London, we can take a look at what we
have found and decide if it is worth killing for.”

Beatrice
opened her mouth to object but really couldn’t come up with any
argument. To do so could be construed as interfering with a police
investigation. She wished now that she had taken the time to copy
the notes because she really didn’t want to just hand them over. To
her surprise, Ben seemed to be thinking along the same
lines.

“I will
go and find them. Be back in a minute,” Ben announced and hurried
out of the room. Once in the sitting room however, he grabbed the
packaging paper and quickly sketched out a copy of the notes onto
it, along with the names and addresses of the botanists. He then
tucked the packaging paper out of sight, folded up the rest of the
papers, and took them to Mark.

Mark
turned toward the door for the second time that afternoon.
“Meantime, if you do identify the plant, just leave word at the
station. The sergeant who is looking after the case while I am away
will pick it up.”

Beatrice
nodded and watched him step outside.

Once on
the doorstep, he turned back to look at her. “By the way, Harriett
said to remind you that you are hosting the Circle tomorrow
night.”

Beatrice
put her hands on her cheeks and stared at him in horror. “Oh Lord,
I completely forgot.”

Mark
grinned at Ben over her head. “You should stick around for that, it
is an interesting group,” he declared with an unholy grin before he
turned around, gave them a wave, and left.

“The
Circle?”

“The
remaining members of the Psychic Circle decided that they wanted to
continue to meet on a regular basis. We are all interested in
making things, so started up a sewing circle instead. We discuss
all sorts of things while we make various items of clothing and
household fripperies.”

“I had
heard that you were into philanthropy now,” Ben replied as he
thought of the strange warning he had received from Mrs
Underwick.

“Philanthropy? Who on earth told you that?”

Ben read
the look on her face, and knew that he had said the wrong thing. “I
had heard that you undertake charitable work now,” he corrected,
but far too late to correct the damage.

“Well we
do, but it isn’t philanthropy,” she snapped defensively and turned
to put a pot of water on to boil, effectively drawing an end to the
conversation.

A small
voice warned her not to lose her temper with him. After all, he had
been more than helpful to her over the last day or so. It would be
very bad tempered of her to chastise him for a throw-away comment.
Still, it galled her to think that people we gossiping about her
back.

Curiosity made her turn back to face him. “Who have you been
speaking to?”

Ben had
the good grace to look a little evasive. “Oh, I just heard on the
grapevine that you were working for charitable causes
now.”

She
threw him a dark look but remained quiet.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The
slightly uncomfortable silence remained between them while she made
the tea. As soon as it was ready, Ben carried the tray into the
sitting room and they both took their usual seats on the sofa.
Beatrice poured and they sat back to savour the silence for a
moment before she reluctantly raised the issue she least wanted to
discuss: the Circle. It was awful to think that she had to defend
the activities of such an innocuous group, but it was important
that Ben understood the truth, if only so that she could ensure he
didn’t believe the rubbish he had heard from the
gossips.