“B. Mottram.”
“Caelestia Perfectionis,” Ben murmured, thrilled at the thought of a mystery. “I think that is Latin for Celestial Perfection.”
“Latin?” Beatrice scowled at th
e neatly penned script. “That’s not Uncle Matthew’s handwriting.” It was the complete opposite to her uncle’s spidery scrawl but looked similar to the writing on the front of the package.
“Do you know a ‘B. Mottram’?” Ben asked hopefully. Unsurprisingly though, Beatrice shook her head. “I don’t suppose you know if he was one of your uncle’s associates?”
He knew from the look of regret in her eye that she didn’t. He got the impression from what she had told him earlier in the study, and her lack of knowledge about what was seemingly a large part of her uncle’s life, that the two hadn’t been all that close.
Beatrice sighed and stared down at the paper. “If ‘B. Mottram’ is someone associated with uncle, why didn’t he at least put his head around the door to say hello?” She started to feel a little annoyed by the way the plant had mysteriously appeared, without warning, by an unnamed person who hadn’t even seen fit to leave a note in the box.
“Why put this in the crease? Why not leave a note inside the box?” She demanded after several moments of thoughtful silence.
“I don’t know,” Ben sighed. “What kind of plant to you think it is?”
“Well,” Beatrice sighed. “It’s a flowering plant of some kind, but it says on this paper that it is rare, and so most probably won’t be detailed in any of the books.”
“Unless it is listed in one of the books about rare plants.” He shook his head. “Right now, I don’t even know what variety it is to know which book to look in.”
“There may be something like it in uncle’s conservatory.” She glanced toward the window again and sighed at the relentless nature of the rain. “Unfortunately, I doubt we are going to have sufficient light to see anything if we go out there to take a look.”
Ben had to agree with her and heaved a frustrated sigh as yet another rumble of thunder echoed around the house.
“I take it that you like mysteries?” Beatrice mused wryly as she watched him study the packaging paper again with more curiosity on his face than frustration.
He glanced up at her and smiled so sheepishly that he looked like a naughty little boy who had been caught with a handful of biscuits before dinner. The dimples that flashed in his cheeks made him look endearing and, incredibly, considerably more handsome than before. She found herself smiling back at him without even realising she was doing so.
“I have to admit that I am more than a little intrigued by all of this. It is rather odd to think that not only have you nearly been run down – twice, in the space of an afternoon, but you have also seen someone outside the window and had a mysterious plant delivered by person or persons unknown.” He stopped right there because he didn’t want to scare her and lapsed into thoughtful silence while he considered the paper in his hand.
Now that he came to think about it, it was rather a lot to happen to one person in the space of an afternoon. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was all mere circumstance, or whether it was connected in some way to the curious flowering plant with the rather unforgettable odour.
CHAPTER FIVE
Beatrice opened her mouth to speak only to frown when a series of heavy thumps on the front door interrupted her. She turned her gaze toward the hallway, but made no attempt to get up and answer the summons.
“Are you expecting anyone?” Ben growled as he pushed to his feet. “Stay there, I will get it.”
“I am not expecting anyone. It’s not Maud,” she replied as he moved to the door. “She won’t walk through the rain while it is as heavy as this.”
Ben nodded and sighed when the impatient knocking on the door began again. His scowl was deep when he yanked the door open, and deepened even further when his gaze landed on the much shorter man on the doorstep.
His gut instinct warned him that there was something amiss about this stranger. Rather than step back and allow him into the house and out of the pouring rain, Ben blocked the doorway and studied him expectantly. He knew his instincts were right when, at first, the man tried to look into the hallway behind him before he began to scour every inch of the area around him as though he was looking for something; or scouting the area.
“You are the owner of the house, I take it?” The stranger demanded rudely.
The rather arrogant way he looked Ben up and down was so dismissive that Ben felt positively insulted and he didn’t even know the man. It was all he could do not to slam the door in the man’s face, and was glad that Beatrice hadn’t answered the door.
He heard her gasp behind him but made no attempt to look at her, purely because he didn’t want to take his eyes off the visitor. He felt certain that if he did, the stranger would take the opportunity to wriggle his way past him and stalk straight into the house.
“What do you want?” Ben snapped.
“You have something of mine,” the smaller man drawled somewhat snootily.
“Oh?” Ben knew he was being obtuse but didn’t care one bit if the man was offended by it.
“I was passing by earlier today and noticed that you had a package on your doorstep. I think it may have been meant for me. I would like it back.”