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Authors: Rebecca King

Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #thriller, #mystery, #murder mystery, #historical fiction, #historical romance, #historical mystery, #romantic adventure

Beatrice (9 page)

BOOK: Beatrice
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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-stand 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?

“It
isn’t a man. That’s something somebody has dropped, that’s all,”
she assured nobody in particular as she made her way to the door.
“Maud? Maud, are you at home?” She called as she hurried out into
the hallway.

Silence
greeted her and she made her way down the stairs.

“Maud?”

Maud
usually ran a meticulous household, and kept to a strict timetable
which had not changed since the very first day Beatrice had moved
in. Maud got up at five o’clock, lit the fires, did the first set
of her chores and started to make breakfast at seven. It was now
nearly ten o’clock in the morning, so where was she?

As she
walked through the house, Beatrice checked each room as she passed
and was concerned to note that the curtains were still drawn and
the fires unlit in all of the downstairs rooms. The kitchen,
although neat and tidy, had not been used to make
breakfast.

“Maud?”

“In here
dear,” came the muffled reply.

Beatrice
almost wept with relief at the sound of Maud’s voice and hurried to
the bedroom in the housekeeper’s quarters.

“Are you
alright? What is it? What’s wrong?” She studied the flushed cheeks
and over-bright eyes and knew that Maud had caught a chill. “You
were out in the rain yesterday, weren’t you?” She shook her head
when Maud glared balefully at her without replying. “I am going to
get you some tea. You stay in bed where it is warm.” She paused
long enough to light the fire and hurried out of the
room.

“I
should be doing that for you,” Maud grumbled.

“This is
the first time in nearly fifteen years that you have missed a day.
Now it is my turn to look after you, and I will have no argument
about it,” Beatrice huffed as she gathered the tea things and
stoked the stove up before she put a kettle of water on to
boil.

Once the
water was heating, she moved to the window and drew the curtains
back. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the bundle of rags on the
floor beside the woods. Although something warned her not to go out
there, curiosity urged her to find out what they were, and where
they were likely to come from. She was fairly certain that it
wasn’t the carcass of a badger or a fox because it was too big and
the colours were all wrong.

She eyed
the pot of water. It was going to take a little while to boil so
she gathered her shawl and quietly let herself out of the back
door.

The day
was going to be a warm one. It was only mid-morning and the sun was
already high in the sky, and brought with it a certain mugginess
that brought out a fine sheen of sweat on her forehead within
minutes of being outside. In spite of that, it was wonderful to be
outside, and Beatrice sighed in delight as she was immediately
encased in summer sunshine. She hurried down the path toward the
gap in the low rockery that ran along the top of the garden, intent
on finding out what the bundle was so she could get back to the
kitchen to make Maud’s tea.

“Beatrice?”

She
whirled around, and smiled in delight to find Ben a few feet behind
her. “Are you alright?”

Beatrice
opened her mouth to assure him that she was fine but then paused
and looked at him hesitantly. “Maud is not very well this morning,”
she sighed.

“Maud?”
Ben frowned. Did he know a Maud?”

“Mrs
Partridge. I think she got caught out in the rain yesterday and has
caught a chill, so is going to spend the day in bed.”

Ben
nodded. “It sounds the best place for her. Is there anything I can
do?” He asked hopefully.

This
morning she looked even more beautiful than she had yesterday. Her
hair had once again been swept back into a tight bun at the base of
her neck, but several small strands of hair had managed to escape
anyway and now danced gaily against her cheek. He was just
contemplating kissing the delightful curve of her lips when her
words snapped him out of his revere.

Beatrice
shook her head and offered him a smile. “I was just going to
investigate this up here. I am sure that it wasn’t here yesterday,
but cannot think for the life of me what it might be.” She nodded
toward the mysterious bundle of rags.

She led
the way up the path and tried to stop herself from staring at him.
It was a struggle to think of anything other than just how
wonderful he looked this morning. He had changed into a pair of
dark charcoal-coloured trousers, accompanied with a white shirt and
beautiful waistcoat which was made from the same material as his
rather finely cut jacket. However, she rather felt that his
mesmerising masculinity had little to do with the expensive cut of
his clothing, and more to do with the charisma of the man
himself.

“I am
glad you are here,” she added quietly with a smile. Her heart
flipped when he immediately grinned at her.

“Me
too.” He nodded toward the bundle of rags. “Is it wildlife, do you
think?”

“I don’t
know.” Beatrice turned around and moved a bit closer to the object
of her curiosity. “I don’t think so.”

“Good
Lord,” she whispered moments later. Now that she was closer, she
was able to see a pair of feet pointing toward her. Her stomach
started to churn as dread drew her to a stop.

“Go back
inside, Beatrice, while I take a closer look,” Ben ordered
quietly.

When she
didn’t move, he took her by the shoulders and tried to turn her
around only for her to refuse to budge.

“No, I
need to see if it is someone I know.” She looked down at the boots
and felt sick with dread at the thought of viewing a corpse, but
she couldn’t afford to be squeamish now. She had seen Miss
Haversham die right in front of her eyes; she had seen dead bodies
before. Although she tried to remind herself that there was
absolutely nothing to be concerned about with this body either;
deep inside, she knew that this was not just a dead
body.

BOOK: Beatrice
11.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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