Beatrice

by King, Rebecca

  She watched Hargraves’ mouth flap open and closed several times as though he was trying to say something but couldn’t get the words out past his fear.

  “Keep walking,” Beatrice growled when he stumbled back several paces then stopped. When he hesitated, she swung the poker in a wild arch; mere inches from his chest. To her satisfaction, it was enough to propel him backward as instructed.

  Hargraves looked down at the soot mark across his chest and took several more steps backward as he glanced around in search of an exit.

  “Listen to me here and now. I do not have anything that belongs to anybody else. You have no business demanding anything from me, or trying to break into my home. Go back to your boss and tell him that if he wants something from me then he should get off his backside, and come and see me himself. If he isn’t prepared to do so, then I strongly recommend that you quit. I can assure you right now that if I see your face at my door again – or my window – I will personally drag your worthless carcass all the way to the police station. Do you hear me?” She knew she was shouting, but the ability to release the stress and fear she had felt over the last few days was immensely satisfying.

  For one brief moment she thought that Hargraves was going to challenge her but, when she lifted the poker again, he flicked one startled look at Maud, who stood several feet behind her armed with an iron skillet and, within seconds, was gone.

  She spun around when someone started to clap, and lowered her poker arm when she saw Ben grinning at her.

  “Christ, you are feisty,” he drawled and threw Maud a look that told her to make herself scarce. “Remind me never to get you angry at me.” He eyed the iron poker in consideration. “Is that always your weapon of choice, or do you usually go for random objects around the house?”

  In spite of her temper, Beatrice felt her lips start to twitch, but she made no attempt to apologise for her behaviour.

  “He makes me so mad. He was trying to open the door when we wouldn’t answer it. He just doesn’t get the hint.” As she spoke her voice grew quieter. By the time she lapsed into silence, she took a deep breath and felt the last of her anger fade.

  “You are fierce,” Ben murmured gently before he caught her lips in a kiss that robbed her of all sense and reason.

  The kiss they had shared before he had left last night had seared her to her soul. It had claimed and possessed her, and rendered her speechless. This morning though, their embrace was driven by an entirely different sensuality. As soon as his lips touched hers, passion flared to life and swept them along on a tide of desire that neither of them could ignore. He captured the back of her head with one large hand and held her still while he deepened the embrace. However, this was Beatrice, who wasn’t prepared to be docile and complaint.

  He groaned when she grasped his jacket with tight fingers and drew him even closer, and it fuelled this new side of her which refused to be supplicant. She copied his movements and returned the force of his kiss with equal ardour at the same time that she slid her fingers into his hair and tugged him even closer. His height meant that she had to stand on tip-toe, but even that small movement drew her tighter against him and brought her lush curves into contact with his solid masculinity perfectly. He held her steady with one long arm around her waist and backed her up several paces until her back was to the wall of the house. Once she was held firm, he captured her face in both hands and gave himself over to desire.

  “God, Beatrice,” Ben growled as he placed random kisses down her neck.

  The sudden slam of the kitchen door was enough to warn him that this was hardly the place to do the kind of things his body demanded, but he knew that as soon as the opportunity arose, they were going to take this mutual desire as far as it could go. He had never felt this kind of passion with any woman before. This burning desire to consume and plunder was something new to him, and intensely addictive.

  It went a long way toward convincing him that she was indeed the woman for him.

  He tried to draw back, he really did. He even got as far as to lift his head, but the slumberous look in her eyes when he looked down at her left him helpless to find any objection when she reached up and recaptured his lips with hers. She copied his every movement, right down to the letter, but her actions were tinged with the slightest hint of innocent curiosity that nearly unmanned him. Even the growl he couldn’t withhold seemed to encourage her.

  Unfortunately, they were forced to acknowledge sense and reason when they were, yet again, rudely interrupted.

  “Ahem.”

  The rather discrete cough felt like a bucket of cold water, and was enough to make them reluctantly draw apart. Although this time, he did ease back from her hold, Ben didn’t let her go too far. He lifted his head to look at the housekeeper, but she was busy pegging the washing out and pointedly had her back toward them. Still, it was a quite pointed reminder that this was not the time or the place to allow the passion to get too out of control. They were in plain view of the lane for heaven sakes; anybody who passed would be able to see them. Right now, they had enough to contend with, and didn’t need to give the gossips any fodder to work with should anyone happen to be wandering by.

  Besides, although he adored this wild side to the woman in his arms, and wanted to see more of it, he had just witnessed just how angry she had been. He didn’t want her to make any decision on their future, especially something as important as sharing his bed, while her emotions were fuelled by temper. He wanted her decision to sleep with him to be made logically, calmly and, if it was driven by pure need, then fine.

  “I am sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten carried away like that,” Ben whispered into her ear.

  “It’s not your fault.” She looked at him somewhat defiantly. “I am twenty four years old, and a woman who is in charge of her life. I make no apology for my behaviour this morning,” she declared firmly, copying his words from only yesterday.

  To say that he looked a little stunned was an understatement, but he didn’t appear to be angry as he stared somewhat blankly at her.

  It was important to both of their futures that he understand, and accept, that she would not want him to rule their household, and expect her to meekly comply to his dictates. Some people’s marriages worked like that, but hers wasn’t going to.

  Being able to should shout and rant at someone like Hargraves this morning, and recklessly kiss Ben like she had done, had felt so wonderful, so femininely powerful, that she felt rather proud of herself rather than ashamed. If the need arose, she would have absolutely no hesitation in doing the same thing again. Only, the next time she kissed Ben, she would have to make sure they weren’t standing in the middle of the driveway.

  “I quite liked it really,” she mused with a sigh before she turned around and sauntered toward the back of the house.

  Ben stared at her in stunned disbelief. It was only when she turned the corner of the house and disappeared from sight that he realised she had left him all alone. He was aware that Maud turned to watch him enter the house, but he was too busy wondering what had happened to the old Beatrice to worry about whether the housekeeper was going to lambast him for taking advantage of the lady of the house.

  “Beatrice? Stop right there,” he commanded in a voice that was so stern and authoritative that even he didn’t recognise it.

  Beatrice lifted her brows and turned to face him. It was only then that she realised she had dropped the poker outside when he had started to kiss her. She looked squarely at him, as though daring him to take her to task for being so forward with him but, to her surprise, he stalked toward her and dragged her back into his arms.

  “You quite liked it? It wasn’t stupendous; wonderful; mind-blowing?” He growled challengingly.

  Beatrice smiled up at him, not worried in the least that he was mad at her given the twinkle in his eye.

  “No, it was wonderful; stupendous,” she assured him. “It is just that, well, to me, this is rather mind-blowing.” With that, she c
aptured his head in her hands and dragged him down for a very thorough kiss that left them both gasping for air and trembling with need.

  “Good Lord,” Ben whispered when she finally allowed him to lift his head. He stared down at her in stunned delight, but didn’t move. He was vaguely aware that Maud had entered the sitting room to return the poker, but couldn’t tear his gaze away from the molten heat in Beatrice’s lambent gaze. Right at that moment he rather wished that Maud was still poorly, or stuck at her friend’s house, because there was nothing he wanted more right now than to spend time getting to know this new, tantalising side of Beatrice.

  The sudden chimes of the grandfather clock in the hallway broke the silence, and seemed to draw a line under the passion, for now. Beatrice took several steps away from him while she steadied herself. Eventually she turned to look at Maud. She struggled to keep her mind focused on what she wanted to say, but the sight of that poker bought forth the memory of Hargraves’ visit.

  “Ben and I are going to go out this morning. We need to go to the university to make enquiries about that plant. Because of Hargraves, I really don’t think you should be alone in the house, Maud,” she announced and gave Ben a measured look as if to invite suggestions on what the housekeeper could do while they were gone. “We are likely to be gone for several hours. Do you want to go to your friend’s house while we are away?”

  “I don’t think that it is wise for you to be walking the lanes at the moment either,” Ben added. “If you need to go somewhere, we will drop you off.”

  “I hate not being about to go about my business freely,” Maud groused with a frown. “Are you going to Tipton Hollow first?”

  Ben stepped forward and put a hand on Beatrice’s slim waist. “We can do. We are going to the university, but may go somewhere else after that if we can find a Latin scholar to transcribe some notes. We really aren’t sure.”

  “It is market day,” Maud mused and turned to Beatrice. “I have to get some things for the Circle meeting. I think that I will go to the market and see what I can find. If I am finished before you are, I can have a cup of tea with my friend Sally before I come home.”

  “Give us her address and we will pick you up from Sally’s house on the way home.”

  Maud quickly wrote out the address on a piece of paper and went to fetch her shawl.

  “Thank you for squiring us around like this. It really is kind of you.”

  Although she was taller than average, she still had to tip her head back to look up at him when he moved to stand before her. Unsurprisingly, she felt the faint flurry of passion begin to roar to life again. A thrill of desire swept through her when his head began to descend and their lips touched briefly just as Maud appeared in the hallway.

  Ben lifted his head and smiled ruefully down at her. “Later,” he whispered into her ear before he moved to the doorway.

  It was all Beatrice could do to nod.

  “Are you sure you want to be left here, Mrs Partridge?” Ben asked as he wove the carriage through the busy traffic.

  “Please call me Maud. Nobody calls me Mrs Partridge, except for the vicar, and I don’t really like him,” Maud replied with a smile.

  She hoped that he would understand that her relationship with Beatrice was not going to change if Beatrice married him. At Brantley Manor, formalities were never adhered to because Beatrice and Maud were like family to each other; if Ben intended to join them then he had to accept that things were a little different, and a lot less formal than in most houses.

  “Let’s start as we mean to go on then, Maud. You must call me Ben,” he smiled as he handed her down from the carriage. “Beatrice has Sally’s address, so we will call by there when we have finished at the university. Whatever happens, we will be back for you so don’t go home on your own.”

  “Fair enough,” Maud replied as she lifted both of her baskets off the seat and turned toward the busy market. “Wish me luck.”

  Beatrice merely smiled at her and studied the crowds. It was only when Ben had started to edge the carriage back out into the traffic that her gaze landed on the now familiar face of Sigmund Hargraves, who stood with one shoulder propped against a market stall. Although he didn’t attempt to approach them, his stare was fierce as they drove past.

  Beatrice nudged Ben. “Hargraves,” she whispered and nodded to the spot where the man had been standing. To her consternation, he had vanished. She turned around and searched the crowd, but couldn’t see her either Maud or Hargraves.

  “Are you sure?” Ben demanded as he turned to look back at the market stalls.

  “’ere watch out,” a pedestrian cried as he quickly dodged the horse.

  “Sorry,” Ben called and turned his attention back to the heavy traffic. “I haven’t seen Great Tipton like this in a long time,” he muttered as he wove the carriage expertly in and out of both stationary and moving carriages.

  “I hate the market when it gets this busy,” Beatrice replied. It was a relief to leave the hustle and bustle behind when they turned onto a much quieter road which took them directly to the university.

  “Heavens above,” she whispered minutes later, once Ben had parked the carriage and they had entered the main square of the campus.

  In contrast to the raucous bustle of the market, the heavy atmosphere of the university was almost too quiet. The clip of their boots on the cobbled path seemed to echo around the large courtyard which was surrounded by four-storey buildings. Although she had yet to see another living soul, she could practically feel eyes watching her as she made her away across the open area toward the door marked ‘Entrance’. She was glad that Ben was with her because she was certain that if she had been alone, she would have got no further and turned around and gone home. It was a relief to be able to open the door to the entrance hall and get inside.

  Ben stood back to allow her through and fought the urge to tug at his collar. He hadn’t been into a building like this since he had left university, and had forgotten just how oppressive the atmosphere was. They walked onto hallowed ground as they entered the huge, panelled entrance hall embraced by two massive oak staircases. Directly in front of them sat a single desk behind which sat a small, bespectacled gentleman.

  “Can I help you?” He intoned, clearly bored out of his skull from having to sit with nothing much to do.

  “Would you be able to direct us to someone who may have specialist knowledge of botany please?”

  “Harrington, Room 51. Top of the stairs, end of the corridor, turn right, last door on the left.”

  Beatrice looked at Ben and fought a smile. She hoped he had made a note of what the man had said because she couldn’t remember anything other than the room they needed was number 51.

  “We may be gone for some time,” she whispered.

  “Shh.” The man glared at them as they made their way up the stairs.

  She winced and remained quiet while they tip-toed up the large staircase. To their consternation, once they got there, one long corridor ran both to the left and the right of them.

  Ben opened his mouth to ask the man at the desk which way they should go, only to stare aghast at the now empty desk.

  “We didn’t imagine him, did we?” Beatrice asked. She started to feel a little unnerved because they had been near silent going up the stairs, and she hadn’t heard any movement behind them. Yet the man had not only left the desk, but vanished completely.

  She drew her shawl around her shoulders and took Ben’s arm, even though he didn’t hold it out to her. Thankfully, he drew her against his side as they walked arm in arm down the corridor, and it was a relief to have his solid strength beside her.

  “We can try this way first. If there isn’t any sign of Room 51 then can try the other corridor. If we get lost, we can always start to knock on doors.”

  Beatrice studied the long corridor before them and simply couldn’t count the amount of doors they were faced with.

  “One hundred and eleven,” she sighed.


  “Right, let’s go then,” he suggested as they started to walk down the corridor.

  Secretly though, he wondered if they would ever see daylight again.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Ben knocked on the door and stood back to wait. When there was no response, he sighed and knocked louder.

  “In.”

  Ben lifted his brows at Beatrice and opened the door.

  The room was large, and contained a huge variety of plants and flowers at various stages of growth, along with a humungous selection of books. Drawings and diagrams lined all of the walls, and were scattered across the solitary desk located in the centre of the room.

  Beatrice studied the man behind it and wondered if he was still alive. He was so old that he looked as though he had a hit his hundredth birthday quite some time ago. He looked as fragile as the flower in Beatrice’s study, to the point that she rather suspected that if a good gust of wind blew him over, he wasn’t likely to get back up again.

  “Good morning,” Ben said when the man finally seemed to realise he had company. “I am Mr Addison, and this is Miss Northolt.”

  The mention of Beatrice’s surname was enough to make the man suddenly pick his glasses off his desk and peer through them so he could study her more closely.

  “Northolt, you say?” He scowled at her. “Would you be related to Matthew Northolt?”

  “Yes, he was my uncle,” Beatrice replied with a nod.

  The man’s face was suddenly wreathed in smiles, and he stood up and hurried around the table with a youthful agility that belied his age.

  “Please, come in and take a seat. My name is Archibald Harrington, but you may call me Archie, my dear. Your uncle always did. Matthew told me so much about you, and always spoke so highly of you.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I have been dying to meet you.”