Ben’s brows lifted and he stared dismissively back at the smaller man. “I have nothing of yours.” When he moved to step back from the doorway, the smaller man hurriedly stepped forward. Ben flicked him a look that warned him to stay right where he was, and it was enough to make the smaller man freeze.
“But I saw it on your doorstep,” the man argued. “I was waiting for a package; a plant, but I think my friend must have left it here by mistake.”
“I have nothing of yours,” Ben snapped. “Now I suggest you go and look for your package elsewhere.” He pinned the man with a narrowed gaze. “There is nothing here for you.”
The man opened his mouth to speak only for Ben to slam the door closed. For added emphasis he slammed the bolt across before he turned to face Beatrice.
“The plant isn’t his,” she assured him.
Ben nodded in agreement. “Have you seen that man around here before?”
“I don’t think he is an associate of my uncle. He has certainly never been here before while I have been here,” she whispered in deference to the fact that there was only a wooden door between them and the caller outside, and could be overheard.
She suddenly gasped and stared at Ben with wide eyes. “You don’t think he was the carriage driver who tried to run me down, do you?” Her eyes grew even wider. “Do you think he was the person I saw outside the study window? Was he looking for the plant, do you think?”
Ben would like to assure her that he couldn’t possibly be but, in all conscience, couldn’t. If he was honest, he rather suspected that the visitor was certainly rude enough to think nothing of peering through a person’s windows.
“I don’t know, darling,” he drawled ruefully. “I think that while he is around and, until we can solve the mystery of who sent you the plant and why, you need to keep your doors locked and be extra vigilant.”
Although he didn’t say as much to her, he rather wished that her house was considerably closer to the village than it was. At least then she would have someone to call upon if anything happened. He hated the thought of her being all alone in the house with that man stalking around.
He turned to study her and opened his mouth to speak, only to close it again with a snap. The confusion and doubt on her face made her look a little lost and he inevitably felt drawn toward her. He didn’t say a word as he drew her into his arms and pressed a gentle kiss on the top of her head. To his relief, she immediately sighed and settled against him as though she was destined for his arms.
“Thank you again,” she whispered a little ruefully when, minutes later, she reluctantly eased back from the warmth of his embrace.
He smiled at her. “You are welcome – again. Now that the visitor has gone, let’s get back to those books and see if we can find our plant, shall we?” He reluctantly released her and followed her into the sitting room.
“Do you
really think the plant might be his?” Beatrice asked. “Did he give you his name?”
“I don’t really know if the plant is his, Beatrice. Your name is most certainly on that packaging paper. It may have been for someone whose name begins with a ‘B’ but, for some reason, I doubt that it is him. I didn’t bother to ask for his name because it didn’t seem relevant at the time. I didn’t like the way he kept trying to look into the house.” Ben now wished that he had asked the man for his name, but hadn’t wanted to encourage him to stay any longer than absolutely necessary. Besides, he wasn’t altogether sure that he would have gotten the truth.
“There is one thing for certain,” he added quietly.
“What’s that?”
Ben looked directly at her. “He isn’t from around these parts. He didn’t know my name, and assumed that this is my house.”
“He didn’t ask for me, or my uncle?”
Ben shook his head. “I don’t want to alarm you Beatrice, but there is something odd going on here,” he declared quietly after several moments of thoughtful silence. “I cannot help but feel that the quicker we find the identity of the plant you have, the faster we will know why that man wants to get his hands on it.”
“Do you think he saw it through the study window?”
Ben shook his head. “I put it on the floor, if you remember?”
Beatrice nodded and anticipated Ben’s next question.
“Did he look like the person you saw?”
Beatrice was about to nod but then stopped. Did he? Now that she came to think about it, she couldn’t be entirely sure who it was outside the window, only she knew it hadn’t been either her or Ben’s reflection.
“I can’t honestly say,” she replied apologetically.
When he didn’t seem inclined to say anything else, she sighed and turned her attention to the books at her feet.
Hours later, Ben yawned and glanced over at Beatrice, who was trying to ease the kinks out of her neck. He had seen so many plants and flowers now that he would be lucky if he could identify a daffodil, let alone any rare species.