Beatrice

by King, Rebecca

  Tuppence leaned forward in her seat. “What is going to happen to her?”

  “Now that the ladies are here, Beatrice, we are going to take her off to the station,” Mark announced from the doorway. He winked at Harriett, and smiled reassuringly at Beatrice. “Lock the door behind us and tell Isaac where we have gone when he gets back, would you? We will come straight back here when we are done and will escort you ladies home.”

  Maud followed them to the front door, and slid the bolt closed when they had gone. She turned to look across the width of the hallway at Beatrice, and they both heaved a sigh of relief. The whole atmosphere within the house seemed to become lighter now that the sinister threat had been removed.

  One problem solved, Beatrice though on a sigh as she shared a sad smile with Maud, and returned to the sitting room to her friends.

  “Now that we are able to talk more fully, I want the news Beatrice,” Harriett declared firmly as she plonked her knitting in her lap and pinned Beatrice with a stare that warned her friend that she wasn’t going to work on anything, or go anywhere, until Beatrice had told them everything. “I know there is more,” she added with emphasis when Beatrice hesitated. She knew because Mark had told her, but Beatrice didn’t need to know that.

  Right now, Beatrice was so pale, and had such a tormented look in her eye, that Harriett was deeply worried. She knew from her own trauma last year that it helped considerably to talk to someone about her problems, and knew just what to do to help her friend.

  “Where is it?” Harriett demanded crisply.

  “What?”

  Harriett rolled her eyes. “The plant.”

  “Oh, Ben has it,” Beatrice replied.

  “What plant?” Tuppence demanded with a frown.

  Harriett sat back with a satisfied smile, and listened to Beatrice’s story. Everyone sat in stunned silence when she finally lapsed into silence. However, this being the ladies’ Circle, nobody was quiet for long.

  “What do you plan to do about the plant now then?” Eloisa demanded.

  “Right now?” Beatrice sighed. “To be honest with you, I haven’t really had much time to think about it. I find it a little creepy that we were sitting so close to Richard Browning, and didn’t know it.”

  “Do you think that is why he refused to see you when you called by his house? Because he had already seen you and wasn’t really able to talk to you again without giving the game away?”

  Beatrice nodded. It was all starting to make sense now. “I think you are right. There can be no other reason. But, why didn’t he tell us he was Richard Browning? Why claim to be a dead man? Surely he must have realised that we would find out?”

  Beatrice sat back and studied her friends. It was good to be able to talk to them and knew from the thoughtful look on their faces, and the fact that none of them had picked up the projects they were working on, that they were doing their very best to offer whatever help they could. She was suddenly very glad that in spite of her mental weariness, she had decided to host the Circle anyway.

  “He has got something to hide,” Harriett declared flatly. She selected a biscuit from the tray before her and began to nibble on it while she frowned blankly at the floor beneath her boots. She tried to think like Mark, she really did, but her husband was the one who was used to lies and subterfuge through his work and, not for the first time, she didn’t envy him his job.

  Constance took a biscuit too, and waved it in the air once she had taken a bite. “He could be the killer.”

  Everyone groaned.

  “Not another one,” Tuppence sighed with a frown. “How many killers can one village contain?”

  “Richard Browning doesn’t live in the village, he lives in Brampton Marches,” Beatrice replied, but made no attempt to deny Constance’s theory about the identity of the killer because she knew her friend was most probably right.

  “It is very good of Ben to be such wonderful support,” Hetty remarked as she gave Beatrice a pointed look.

  “I know. I don’t know what I would have done without him. He has been truly wonderful throughout all of this.”

  “Do you know, I thought that there was something going on between you two,” Constance sighed dreamily. “The way that he looks at you across the church is so divine, pardon the pun. He can barely take his eyes off you. He is a lovely man. You cannot wish for better.”

  Beatrice felt her cheeks heat beneath the interested gaze of the ladies, and studied her teacup and saucer far too carefully while she waited for their attention to shift onto something else. Unfortunately, it didn’t.

  “I take it that things are serious between you two? Are you officially courting now?” Mrs Dalrymple asked encouragingly.

  Beatrice thought about Ben’s declaration at the picnic and couldn’t deny it. “Yes, I rather think that we are,” she declared softly, and felt rather proud at the prospect of being connected to him in such a way.

  She had once considered that Harriett had captured the only eligible bachelor in the area, apart from Isaac Brown, who appeared to be wholeheartedly dedicated to his job. Now though, she knew matters were considerably different. The most eligible bachelor in the area was Ben.

  “You know, he is really extremely well thought of by everybody. You won’t do better than him,” Babette declared. “He is a wonderful man.” Her voice trailed off and she grew thoughtful for a moment before she gave herself a physical shake, and turned her thoughts away from her own romantic entanglements and back to the discussion within the room.

  “Are we allowed to discuss any of this, or would you prefer it if we kept it to ourselves?” Constance asked as she selected another biscuit. “You know, until everything has quietened down?”

  Beatrice thought about that for a moment. “I don’t really see any reason why we should keep this a secret. However, right now Ben is spending quite a bit of time here because he has been helping me try to identify who owns the plant. I don’t want to encourage the gossips by drawing their attention to our relationship. He has done so much for me already; I don’t want to pressure him into anything because of public censure.”

  “You have a point,” Babette said as she glanced around at each of the ladies. “For now, we keep quiet about this.”

  Murmurs of agreement swept through everyone and, for the first time all evening, they turned their attentions to the projects they were supposed to be working on.

  An hour later, their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. Beatrice froze and slowly lowered her sewing back onto her lap as she shared a look with Maud.

  “I will go,” she sighed as she placed her sewing on the floor and made her way toward the front door. She knew that it wasn’t possible for Ben and Mark to get to Great Tipton and back in such a short space of time; however also knew that the knock hadn’t been as persistent as Sigmund Hargraves’.

  “Thank heavens,” she whispered when she opened the door to find Isaac on the doorstep. However, although she was relieved to see him, the gravity on his face filled her with dread, and she stepped back to wave him inside in nervous anticipation.

  Rather than lead him into the sitting room, she showed him toward the front parlour and took a moment to close the door behind them.

  “Well? Did you find him?”

  Isaac licked his lips, and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another. Determined not to be protected from the truth, Beatrice pierced him with a no-nonsense glare.

  “Sigmund Hargraves?” She felt slightly sick at the look in Isaac’s eye, and knew before he spoke what the Detective was going to say. “How?”

  “He had been killed,” was all Isaac said. He could see no reason to tell her that Hargraves’ throat had been cut from ear to ear.

  In all of his years of service with the police, Isaac had never seen anything as disturbing as the bloodied mess that had been the man’s house. “Where have Mark and Ben gone?”

  Beatrice told him about Caroline Smethwick’s appearance, and s
aw him nod in understanding that she had been removed to the station.

  “Do you think she is the killer?” Beatrice asked desperately. “She has been following us,” she added hopefully.

  A small voice warned her that Caroline Smethwick wouldn’t know about the people on the list she had found, and wasn’t likely to be the person responsible for the deaths. However, desperation made her hope that evidence pointed to the woman being the killer because at least now the murderer was behind bars and unable to hurt anyone else.

  “I don’t know,” Isaac replied doubtfully. He chose his words carefully so as not to scare her, but he couldn’t fill her with false hope and leave her vulnerable. “I think it is odd that two of the four people on that list are now dead. Richard Browning is not available, Bernard Murray has vanished too, and the man who has been pestering for the plant is now dead. All of them are linked to the plant, we just don’t know how yet.” He sighed and gave her a careful look. “Would you take a word of advice, Beatrice?” He waited until she nodded. “Once the ladies have gone home, keep Ben with you. Right now, you shouldn’t be alone. Do not, under any circumstances, go out at night. I am not saying that anything is going to happen to you, but you need to take extra precautions. While we have no reason to believe that the killer is interested in you, or even knows of your existence, you need to be alert and aware of the potential dangers. Having Ben here may be enough of a deterrent to stop anyone attempting to get in.”

  Beatrice nodded. “Thank you for being so frank with me. I am going to speak to Maud, and make sure that if she keeps the doors and windows locked and bolted.”

  “Until this is over Beatrice, I don’t think that Maud should be alone here either. Stay together and don’t go anywhere without Ben.”

  She nodded. If she was honest she had no intention of going anywhere without Ben from this moment onward. He had been such an integral part of her life over the last few days that she really had no idea what she was going to do when the danger had passed and he had to return home.

  The thought of living in the house all alone, and only being able to see Ben occasionally, filled her with dread.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The next hour passed slowly for Beatrice. Although Isaac remained in the front parlour, she was painfully aware that he was in there. Dusk fell upon them and the candles were lit, but rather than fill the room with a rosy glow that warmed them all, they seemed to make the shadows even darker, and the atmosphere within the house grow heavy.

  The once amiable ladies grew watchful and silent. They all knew that something was amiss, but Beatrice didn’t see the need to tell them about Sigmund Hargraves’ death for fear of frightening them unnecessarily.

  The sound of several loud knocks on the front door was a welcome relief to everyone, and Beatrice almost wept when Isaac assured them that he would answer the door because it was ‘only’ Mark and Ben.

  It was so incredibly difficult to sit still when she heard the familiar sound of Ben’s voice. She wanted to rush toward him and give him a hug so that she could see for herself that he really was alright. However, she didn’t want to embarrass him in front of the ladies, and so remained where she was. Well, she tried to. When he appeared in the doorway and smiled at her, she just couldn’t help it and hurried over to him.

  “Are you alright?” She knew from the almost haunted look in his eye that he had heard about Sigmund Hargraves’ demise. Their eyes met and held for several long moments while a wealth of unspoken emotion swept between them. There was nothing they could do though, not with so many people pretending they were part of the furniture just a few feet away.

  After a few whispered words out in the hallway, Mark moved into the sitting room doorway and looked at everyone present.

  “Now ladies, Isaac and I are going to escort everyone home tonight. We are all going to go together and will drop Mrs Dalrymple and Constance off first, then go around to Tuppence’s house, then Eloisa’s. Then I am going to take Harriett, Babette, and mother; you are staying with us tonight.”

  Hetty opened her mouth to speak only to close it again with a snap.

  “If everyone is ready?” Mark prompted once the bags were packed, and everyone had their coats on.

  “We won’t all fit in one coach, surely?” Harriett asked. “Why don’t we stay here until you have taken some of the ladies? Then you can come back to take us home.”

  “Because we have another carriage outside,” Mark assured his wife. “I have borrowed David’s carriage for an hour so I can get you all home.”

  There was little anyone could say to that, so the ladies said their goodbyes in rather more sombre tones than they had when they had arrived, and quietly left.

  “Are you alright?” Ben asked when the carriages had turned out of the driveway and the door was closed and bolted.

  “I am off to bed now,” Maud sighed wearily. “I will clear the pots away in the morning. Good night, both of you.”

  “Night,” Beatrice and Ben called as they walked into the sitting room.

  “I am horrified that Sigmund Hargraves is dead,” Beatrice whispered with a shiver.

  Ben sighed and followed her over to the sofa. He didn’t say as much to Beatrice, but he had already stored his carriage away in the lean-to at the side of the garden, and left his horse in the field next door for the night because he had absolutely no intention of going anywhere for the time being.

  Gossips could go to Hell in a hand basket; he would risk their censure to make sure that the killer didn’t claim either Beatrice, or Maud, as their next victim.

  “We don’t know if the killer is Richard Browning, darling. Although he didn’t answer the door to us, and pretended to be Archibald Harrington, we have no proof that he has committed any one of the murders. You cannot lose sight of the fact that Bernard Murray lurks somewhere in all of this.”

  That was enough to make Beatrice groan. She glanced at him with eyes that were haunted. “I really hate this, Ben. The ladies from the Circle shouldn’t have to have a police escort to get home, it is not right. How much longer can this go on for? I cannot live under house arrest, and simply wait here for the killer to call upon me next.” She didn’t add that her fears were more for his safety than hers. Just the thought that Ben could be hurt in all of this made her want to sob helplessly. Instead, she settled against him with a sigh and slid her arm around him to hold him just that little bit tighter.

  “We aren’t going to, darling. Mark has several men now investigating this. Tipton Hollow is swarming with police. Anyone who has killed three times is most probably well away from the area by now, so don’t worry yourself. I am right here, and I am not going to go anywhere until this is all over.”

  She turned to stare at him. “The gossips will have a field day if anyone hears about you staying over.”

  “I don’t care what anyone thinks,” Ben declared flatly. “We are going to get married, just as soon as the danger has passed and you are ready. If the gossips get wind of the fact that I have been staying here, they will also learn about Caroline Smethwick’s attempt on your life. As far as anyone knows, I have been here trying to protect two single women from being alone and vulnerable because there isn’t a neighbour close enough to hear you if there is a problem. If the gossips don’t like it, well they can just get on with it. I am sure that they will have Mark to answer to. However, I do think that once they learn about Caroline Smethwick’s activities, their attention will be suitably diverted by the resulting court case.”

  Beatrice studied him and had to admit that he was right. The same thing had happened with the fraudulent clairvoyants. People were avidly following the newspaper accounts of the court case, and gossip about it could be heard practically in every shop you went into.

  While she was glad that he was going to stay, and was more than a little relieved and thrilled at his determination to protect her, she was a little disappointed that he had still not made any deep declaration of his feelings toward
her.

  Although they had been vague acquaintances for several years now, they had only really known each other properly for about a week, yet were already far closer than most couples were. It was still a little surprising that he was talking about marriage this early on in their relationship but, given the circumstances they had been faced with over the last several days, she could understand his desire not to waste time on etiquette. It was safe to say that the one thing they had both learned over the past week was that life was precious; and could be snuffed out at any moment by circumstances far beyond anyone’s control. But was that enough to base a marriage on? After all, marriage was a lifetime commitment; something one usually ever did once in their lifetime. Could she stand being married to Ben knowing that he didn’t love her as much as she loved him?

  Unfortunately, he broke into her thoughts before she could find an answer.

  “I want to know why your uncle made that list of names in the first place.”

  Beatrice sighed and turned her attention back to his comment. “Do you think that he knew that they were up to something, and made a list of the people he suspected?”

  “Given the cultivation notes were with the list of names, I think he knew exactly what they were up to. Whether or not he was involved is an entirely different matter. I take it your uncle died of natural causes?”

  “Maud found him dead in his bed. It appeared that he died in his sleep. He was seventy six, and had been frail for some time, but refused to give in,” Beatrice announced sadly.

  “I think that we have to rule out anything suspicious about Matthew’s death. He died several months ago now anyway. The plant had probably not even been cultivated then.”

  “I think a plant like that would take several weeks to grow; certainly not months. It may have been around when he was still alive, I just don’t know.”

  “I do firmly believe that the answers we need lie in Matthew’s study, only they haven’t been found because you have yet to move any of the papers. That room is full of all sorts of things; all sorts of secrets could be lurking within its depths.”