Tuppence (The Tipton Hollow 3)

“I can stretch to one thousand five hundred pounds,” Mr Richmond amended. “Now, that is very generous of me.”

“You are a fool, and quite clearly deaf. I have told you that the farm is not for sale. Now go. Leave. Stay off this land. Stop pestering me. My farm is not for sale.” Tuppence glanced at the gun on the wall of the storeroom and wondered if she was going to have to use it to get rid of him.

Mr Richmond sighed heavily and stared at her for several moments, but whatever he intended to say remained unspoken. After one cursory sweep of her with a cold, narrowed gaze, he sniffed and turned away.

“Well, I will leave you to brace yourself,” Mr Richmond drawled casually as he left.

“I beg your pardon?” Tuppence glared after him, unsure if she had just heard him properly.

“Brace yourself,” Mr Richmond called back.

“Are you threatening me?” Tuppence had never hated anybody before, but she really did hate Mr Richmond. “I warn you now, Mr Richmond, that my good friend is married to a Detective Inspector with Great Tipton Police. I will warn him of your threat. Should anything happen to me or my farm, he will know exactly where to look for the culprit!”

Mr Richmond appeared not to have heard her. Without even bothering to glance at her again, he climbed into his carriage. The liveried coachman immediately snapped his whip and guided the highly polished carriage in a wide circle.

Tuppence remained where she was until the carriage had disappeared into the darkness. While she tried not to be worried, his words replayed repeatedly in her mind. Somehow, she couldn’t help but perceive them as a threat, not only to her own safety but to her farm.

“Well, I shall be braced, Mr Richmond. You won’t find me as easy to bully as you think.” With that fervent promise made to herself, Tuppence hefted the grain bag at her feet into the wheelbarrow and set off to feed her livestock.

CHAPTER FOUR

Tuppence was decidedly miserable as she guided her cart into the driveway of Hilltop Farm. A heavy frost had hung over the area all day, and still encased everything in a rather enchanting gossamer shroud. She would have enjoyed the sight of the miles of rolling countryside glistening in the waning sunshine had she not been cold, tired, and in desperate need to get home before it was too dark to see where she was going. There was a long list of chores awaiting her at the farm, and she was eager to get them done so she could crawl into bed and get some rest.

“Well, Baxter, is everything all right?” she asked of the sheep dog when he sauntered out of the barn to greet her in his usual uncaring way. Shaking her head chidingly at him for his lack of response, Tuppence turned her attention to unloading the boxes of provisions she had spent the afternoon fetching from town. She had purchased far more than she was ever likely to eat but could at least be secure in the knowledge that she wasn’t going to starve if there was heavy snowfall and she was unable to reach the village for a few weeks.

“As long as I can get my chores done tonight, and keep the farm stocked up tomorrow, I should get by,” she muttered to herself as she dragged the first of the boxes off the cart.

“Tuppence.”

She froze and turned to peer into the darkness behind her. She didn’t recognise the disembodied voice, nor could she identify where it came from, but she was sure she had just heard it. A shiver of unease slid down her spine. “Hello?”

When nobody appeared, Tuppence took one last look around before lifting boxes off the cart which she carried into the house. Once inside, she lit every candle she could find and hurried back outside to get another armful of boxes.

“Tuppence. We see you.”

Tuppence whirled to face the barn door. She suspected the voice had come from within the barn, but with the winds billowing around her it was difficult to be certain. Maybe the voice had been carried on the wind. It was hard to tell.

“Tuppence.”

“Stop this nonsense at once, do you hear me? Come on out and talk to me,” Tuppence snapped. “You are not funny, and you are not scaring me.”

When nothing moved, Tuppence muttered an uncharacteristic curse beneath her breath. Trying not to appear too concerned, she picked up another heavy box and carried it into the house too. Before she left again to fetch more boxes, she eyed the large shotgun on the wall above the fireplace but knew that if she tried to carry it and the boxes, she might end up shooting herself. With Baxter now nowhere to be found, Tuppence had to content herself with keeping a wary eye on the shifting shadows all around her while she emptied the cart.

“You are alone,” came the melodic voice from the direction of the storeroom.

“No, I am not. You are here, you idiot,” Tuppence snapped with more bravado than she truly felt.

“Women alone are very vulnerable,” came the voice again, this time from the side of the barn.

Tuppence wondered how many intruders there were. All she could see was shifting shadows and dancing darkness. She couldn’t see who was moving around within them. But as she listened to the voice taunt her again, the suspicion that Richmond was behind this rather immature attempt to scare her grew with alarming force. Every now and then, Tuppence heard a hint of a voice she recognised but it was muffled as if spoken through cupped hands, or a muffler. Memories of Richmond’s sinister warning came flooding back, but rather than worry her, Tuppence became incredibly angry.

“You can tell Richmond that the isn’t going to scare me off this farm. Now, go away. I am busy. I warn you now that you are trespassing. If I see you, I will shoot you where you stand,” she called only to wince when her voice was snatched by the wind. She couldn’t be sure if the intruder had heard her.

It wasn’t until Tuppence was inside the barn that she heard running footsteps racing across the yard. She glanced outside in time to see a darting figure disappear around the side of the storeroom.

“Great, I forgot to lock that. If they see that gun I left in there, I am likely to be shot,” Tuppence grumbled, feeling wearier than ever. She had Horace the cart horse to unharness yet, and the animals still to feed and bed down for the night, and she hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast that morning. Now, she had intruders on her farm, undoubtedly sent by Richmond, and they were trying to scare her.

Face it, if it weren’t for the poor price that he offered me, I would have seriously considered selling the place.