"You must. That is the only right thing to do," Elaine countered, reaching for her and Beatrice went willingly.
"You are all that is left of them. Remember what your father used to say - You must live, and live well. So do, for their sake." Her strong R's soothed her, as much as her actual words.
"I will, I promise," Beatrice replied, her voice strong as ever.
Beatrice understood she was simply a young woman, unequipped and alone, yet she would do everything in her power to discover who did this to her family and make them pay, with God as her witness.
"Let's go to bed," she told her governess.
* * *
Sometime later, in the middle of the night, a loud crash echoed through the quiet house. And the two women were the only ones there since Beatrice sent everyone away for a period of mourning. The noise was followed by a curse, and a nasty one at that. It was a man's voice.
They both jumped out of bed, alarmed. "Did someone just break in? Is it a thief?" Her heart was racing so fast she could actually feel it inside her throat, and her palms were clammy as she clutched to Elaine.
"Girlie, where are you?" A man's voice called out, filling her with dread. Beatrice barely stopped herself from screaming.
"Worse," Elaine replied, her eyes grave. "I think this man came to finish the job, Miss."
"Finish the job?" Beatrice forced herself to ask even though she didn't necessarily want to hear the answer to that question.
Elaine nodded. "Kill you as well."
Chapter Three
No! That can't be! Beatrice's mind rebelled against the idea.
God couldn't be that cruel as to bestow such fate unto her. To be hunted like some animal mere days after losing her parents. This is not happening. This is but a nightmare. Come on Beatrice, it's time to wake up. Unfortunately for her, she didn't.
"Miss Beatrice, we need to hide, right now," Elaine stopped her from spiraling any further.
Hide? "Hide?" She stammered back. But where? She was certain he could find her anywhere.
"I will find you, girlie." The ominous words broke the silence as if she needed additional motivation to act. Not.
And then he laughed. It was apparent he was searching the entire house for her. Luckily, he started from the ground level. And he wasn't quiet about his whereabouts either, unafraid of discovery. It was as if he wanted her to know where he was.
Usually, he would find her down there, in the library, or as of late in her father's study. But tonight, Elaine made sure she slept in her bed. Maybe she did have a guardian angel, after all, missing certain death twice now. Thinking about a killer coming for her filled her with dread, but she banished that thought immediately. She needed to stay strong, not fall apart.
Not wanting to fully test that theory about having a heavenly being at her disposal, she stood up and Elaine followed suit. While making the first step, her nightgown got in her way, and Beatrice stumbled. And the noise she made sounded even greater in the silence.
She wanted to curse as the assassin did before for being that stupid and reckless, betraying her exact location. She pulled the hemline upward with a larger force that was necessary, making sure she could walk more freely.
On tiptoes, they came to stand by the door that led to the hallway, and listened, barely breathing. They could still hear him, making all kinds of noises downstairs. Is he breaking things? She wanted to weep, realizing he was destroying all her mother's prized possessions.
"We certainly can't go this way," Elaine voiced what was on Beatrice's mind as well. Beatrice nodded, pointing they should go in a different direction.
Opening a different set of doors, they entered her receiving room. It was complete darkness in there but both women knew the layout by heart, and they didn't create additional noise going through it.
Now what? Beatrice wondered, feeling an additional layer to her already substantial panic.
There were two ways out of the receiving room; the door they just came from and the door that led to the hallway. And they couldn't go that way because they would most certainly be seen.
We are trapped!
No! Calm down. The other part of her rebelled. Beatrice let go of all her fears, and the realization was so sudden as it was apparent. Are we really?
There was a third option. The balcony! She cheered inside her head. Beatrice rushed to the glass doors and opened them wide. The night air was chilly and her nightgown rather flimsy, but she didn't care. This was their escape.
"I am coming up, girlie, I know you're there!" The voice reminded them they didn't have much time.
"We need to leave this house right now," she murmured mostly to herself, fully stepping outside.
She started looking about for any kind of ledge or crevices in the house they could use to climb down. The vine! Yes! But the problem was there was a gap between it and the balcony.
* * *
Once, when she was a young girl, she watched her cousin Tommy climb down from that very balcony. He hopped over the iron banister with little effort since it was taller than she at the time, then jumped to the vine like some wild child raised in the Amazon jungles before slowly descending.
Beatrice was completely fascinated by that whole affair and patiently waited for him to join her before claiming her turn. Unfortunately, her mother discovered their little mischief before she could even start the climb up. She was punished as if she had done the deed herself alongside Tommy, but that was of no importance at the moment.
Remembering what happened that day filled her with confidence she could actually do this. "We have to climb down this way." She pointed to the side of the house where the vine grew. Looking down, she wasn't that thrilled to discover how the earth, quite suddenly, looked very far away. But she wasn't about to dwell on that fact.
A part of her… Oh, this is utter lunacy! Correction, every part of her thought about her imminent death. Either by the killer or by the fall. Yet, if she had to choose, she would prefer the fall because that would mean she actually tried to do something other than just play the damsel in distress like everyone expected her to act.
Your father never expected you to behave in such a way. That is why he left you all of the inheritance, she reminded herself although it was quite inappropriate to have such thoughts at the moment.
Returning to the here and now, Beatrice said, "Look, Elaine, you have to go over the banister like such, and stand on this small ledge," she gesticulated while speaking in a rush. It was fortunate the moon was up in the sky, illuminating the whole scene just enough for them to see. "And then you have to grab hold of the vine and use it to climb down." It wasn't the best of plans, but it was the only one they had.
Elaine nodded before dashing back inside. That happened so fast Beatrice didn't even get the chance to stop her. Fortunately, she returned quickly.
"Where on Earth did you go?" Beatrice snapped in a hushed voice.
"I had to make sure all the doors were locked."
That was actually clever of her. Beatrice was certain it wouldn't stop the man from entering, but it would definitely slow him down. And every minute counted.
"It looks sturdy enough," was Elaine's only comment.
Beatrice prayed that was the case.
"You go first," she told her governess, but the old woman started shaking her head before she even finished the sentence.
"No, child. I'm too old for that climb, but you have to go and now." And as if she needed to emphasize her words she gave Beatrice a little shove.
"I can't leave you here," Beatrice rebelled instantly.
"Not in here? Fine. How about here?" the assassin taunted, while breaking doors on the upper level.
Was he really that mad? Drunk? Or both? Beatrice wondered. Not that it mattered.
"There is no time for arguments." Elaine was adamant. "Go and bring help," she instructed.
Bring help! That sounded logical. "All right, I can do that. But what about you?" Beatrice was still si
ck with worry. Leaving the only person she cared about in the hands of a clear madman was pure torture for her.
"Don't worry about me," Elaine said wryly. "I learned more than cloth making and waulking in the Highlands. When our men weren't around, we had to protect ourselves."
Beatrice gave her a hug, not being able to help herself. Elaine patted her on the back. "Go, now," she urged.
Picking up the hemline of her nightgown and tying it around her waist, Beatrice tried really hard not to think about what her mother would say about such loose behavior as she grabbed hold of the railing and propelled herself over.
Her heart was located someplace in her stomach while doing that. I can do this, she repeated to herself like a chant or a prayer. She successfully went over, standing still on the small ledge. It was actually quite fortuitous she was barefoot because it provided her with better footing. So far so good.
"Locked door!" The man laughed. "I told you I would find you, girlie."
"Hurry," Elaine urged.
Not the encouragement she needed at the moment; still, Beatrice stretched her right arm and grabbed hold of the decorative vine her mother insisted on planting. She thought it would give their house a certain charm, and as always, she was right. Thinking about her deceased mother made her heart hurt so she pushed those thoughts away.
Beatrice gave it a little tug, and when it resisted her, she felt confident enough it could withstand her weight. The plant was hard and prickly, but Beatrice still held on to it with all her might as if her life depended on it. Because it actually did.
Oh, dear Lord, have mercy on my poor soul, she prayed and with that completely let go of the banister and jumped onto the vine. The plant shook vigorously from the assault but persisted.
Thank you, Lord.
The small branches cut deep into the delicate soles of her feet and she let out the quietest of whimpers before she started to descend.
Her arms and legs were full of scratches, some of them bleeding and they were burning as well with the demonic fire as she climbed down. And no matter how much distance she crossed, the ground still felt unnaturally far away from her.
Knowing that was all an illusion concocted inside her mind out of fear, helped not to reach it faster. Eventually, with divine assistance, she was low enough to attempt to jump down. Thinking only about the woman she left above to deal with the killer on her own, Beatrice let go.
* * *
Once her bruised feet touched the wet ground Beatrice allowed herself one moment of repose to grab her bearings. She instantly looked up but couldn't see Elaine anywhere. Beatrice prayed that meant the old woman found a place to hide and wait out this storm.
I will come back for you, she vowed before she started running. Running fast like her feet weren't already aching and bleeding.
"Help!" She started screaming from the top of her lungs until her throat started to burn like the rest of her. Naturally, she was going toward the Thompson residence.
"Please, can somebody help me! Hel…" And then all air was violently knocked out of her lungs as Beatrice fell backward with a rough thud.
Looking up at her assailant she was startled to see a very familiar face looking down at her.
"Captain," she breathed out in surprise.
In front of her stood none other than Captain Jack Archer, soon to be the fiancé of her best friend Marigold. Captain Archer immediately jumped forward to help her rise.
"Miss Beatrice, are you all right?" he asked in alarm. "I was just… I was in passing when I heard you…" It was clear he was struggling with words since he was apparently having a secret, unsupervised rendezvous with Marigold, but Beatrice cared not about that at the moment. This was no time for pleasantries or forced social etiquette; lives were at stake.
"It's so fortunate I stumbled upon you. You must come with me at once. Someone is at my home, trying to harm me. I managed to escape but Elaine stayed so I could bring help. She is alone and in grave danger, please help," Beatrice said all in one breath and had to stop simply so she could take a deep breath again. It would be so unfortunate if she fainted after everything she went through.
As a soldier and a gentleman, seeing a woman in distress was all that it took to put Captain Archer on high alert. He pulled his pistol out, ready to face any enemy.
"I will go alone and investigate," he informed her. All the worry or warmth that could be detected in his voice before was gone. He was a warrior now. "You should move on to the Thompson residence at one."
"Please be careful," she wished before she started running again.
There was a small park between the two estates, and she navigated through it with ease, having done so many times in the past.
Reaching her desired destination, Beatrice immediately started banging at the front door.
"Please open up. It's me, Beatrice Foster. I need your help." The whole household was up and on their feet in a jiffy. After telling Mr. Thompson everything she told the captain, he gathered all the men available, and armed, they joined in on the search of the assassin that tried to end her life.
Alas, they found no one at the house, apart from Elaine, who was alive and well. Although there were clear signs someone broke in and caused havoc.
* * *
It was strange, returning to the only home she knew and loved and finding it not only in the state of disarray, but her sentiments about it had changed as well. Suddenly she felt like a complete stranger visiting some other person's house.
It was not enough that vile person robbed her of the only two people she cared about in this world, but now he took the sanctity of her childhood home as well, because there was not a shadow of a doubt inside her mind that the two incidents were related. She would know that even without the madman's taunts.
Elaine was first to point it out and she was right. Someone was trying to finish the job. Yet the question remained the same as before.
Why?
And then she remembered something else. The reading of the will happened two days ago, and Beatrice became the sole heir of her father's fortune, including the newspaper. Since she was of age, no legal guardian was appointed, although Uncle John offered generously.
Is that motive enough for this heinous crime? Money? Beatrice felt sick to her stomach just thinking about it.
"We will catch whoever did this, Miss Foster," Constable Newine promised.
He was a kind man, she knew from before thanks to her father, a bit short, gaunt, but with a big belly. And Beatrice was certain he never caught anyone is his entire life. Instantly, she felt guilty for having such cruel thoughts.
"Thank you, Constable Newine, for all your hard work," Beatrice replied instead. "I feel safer knowing you will be looking after me." He flushed a little, clearly not used to such high praise.
"Miss Foster, let me express again how terribly sorry I am about your parents. Such fine people, it's a shame…" Beatrice inclined her head.
"Thank you for your kind words. They will be missed."
* * *
Once all the circus stopped, Beatrice stripped out of the dress Marigold had lent her to wear since she inappropriately ran for her life only in her nightdress and put one of her simple ones in return, feeling more comfortable instantly.
Being left alone at last, Elaine and Beatrice sat together in her father's study, conversing. "It was foolish of me to let all the household go to visit their families at the same time," Beatrice chastised herself.
"You couldn't have known," was all Elaine had to say about that. She also didn't say what happened once Beatrice escaped, and she was left alone, and a part of Beatrice didn't want to know.
They were both here now and safe, that was the only thing that mattered. Still, will that last? She had to wonder.
"We can't stay here, my dear," Elaine added, mirroring Beatrice's thoughts perfectly.
"I know," Beatrice replied in a small voice. "But where are we to go?" If this killer was that adamant, he could track them d
own anywhere.
"Somewhere where no one is prone to look for us, and I know just the right place," Elaine replied confidently.
Still, something was nagging Beatrice in the back of her mind.
Even though she knew this was a smart thing for them to do, a part of her truly wanted to rebel. How could she possibly leave? Her parents must be avenged, killer caught and brought to justice. Only then could Beatrice move on with her life. And for that, she needed to stay in New York. And that wasn't all.
"What about the paper?" She wondered out loud. "So many people depend on it running. They depended on my father, and now on me."
I cannot simply vanish into thin air.
"Nothing will matter anyway if you're dead," Elaine countered in her usual manner.
Beatrice sighed. "So, we will leave, but only for a little while," she hedged. "Once the situation settles, I want to be of assistance and do everything my father wanted me to."
Elaine nodded in return, settling the matter. And that put Beatrice at ease.
"I'll start making arrangements," Beatrice said after a short pause and Elaine looked at her as if she just lost all of her mind.
Beatrice asked herself how she had not lost it, after everything she'd been through. It is a mystery.
"We need to go at once, tonight even. We can't give your assailant any more opportunities to strike," Elaine explained like she was a small child again. "And we need to go in secret."
Yes, the situation was that grave, yet Beatrice felt nothing. She lost all her senses after last night. I must be in shock, she concluded.
"I will start packing at once," Beatrice replied in compliance.
"Only the essentials," Elaine warned.
Beatrice nodded. "I know the combination of my father's safe." They could always buy everything they lacked with the available currency.
Elaine waved with her hands. "We can't bring currency with us. It would look suspicious."
An Unconventional Bride For The Rancher (Historical Western Romance) Page 31