Beatrice (The Tipton Hollow 2)

The following morning Beatrice rolled over in bed and sighed contentedly. The morning sunshine bathed her in gentle warmth that soothed her right down to her soul. It helped to eradicate the lingering worries from yesterday, and she smiled gently up at the ceiling as she remembered the rather unusual events of yesterday.

Now that she was safely tucked up in bed, she felt a little foolish for her nervousness.

If she was honest, she was a little shocked at just how much could change in a short period of time. She had once considered Ben to be cold and aloof, but knew now that he was anything but. He was tender, compassionate, caring and incredibly gentle, as well as strong, determined, logical and considerate. He was everything she had ever considered she wanted in a mate, and more besides, and she was more than a little thrilled that he appeared to be as interested in her as she was in him.

Wait a minute, when have you ever started to consider him a prospective mate? That thought was enough to make her sit up in bed and frown into the dressing table mirror at the end of the bed.

She wasn’t quite sure what to make of that particular thought. While she was thrilled that someone as strikingly handsome as Ben was interested in her; she was a little nonplussed at the prospect of sharing her life with any man. She had been orphaned at a relatively young age, and her world had careered wildly out of control for a very long period of time. Now, as an adult, she liked to control the world around her as much as possible. The thought of having to hand over any amount of control to a husband who would expect to be head of the household, was something that didn’t sit too well with her.

Although they hadn’t been all that close, life with her uncle had suited her perfectly. He had lived in his study and only ventured out for church on Sunday, or mealtimes. She had spent her days doing what she liked, under the watchful gaze of Maud. It had worked well for all of them because she had been left to make the important decisions about the way the house was run without interference, her uncle had been able to focus on his beloved work, and Maud had been left to carry out her job as she saw fit. As long as the house was clean and there was food on the table at mealtimes, her uncle had been happy, and Beatrice had been relatively content; if a little bored.

When the hallway clock began to chime, Beatrice lay still and counted the bongs.

“Oh Lord, he is going to be here any minute,” she whispered in horror as she threw the covers back and jumped out of bed. Luckily, her ankle was now just a little stiff and sore, and no longer painful. She could now put her weight on it, and was at least able to hurry to the wash-st

and to carry out her ablutions without having to stumble and hop.

While she washed she thought about the meal she had shared with Ben last night. It had been rather intimate and, although they had been in the formal dining room, the soft glow of the candlelight and gentle flicker of the flames from the fire had embraced them both in an ambience that had been utterly charming.

A soft smile curved her lips as she remembered the way his hand had captured hers while they had sipped their wine. His eyes had seemed to darken over the solitary candle that had sat on the table between them, but it was the shimmer of promise in his eyes that had held her spellbound. The gentle kiss he had given her when he had reluctantly taken his leave more than an hour later had sealed that sensual promise, and held her captivated long after he had turned out of the driveway with one final wave through the darkness.

It had been a wonderful evening, she mused dreamily as she stepped into a clean dress.

She made a mental note to thank Maud for the meal, and only then realised that the house was unusually quiet. There was no clattering of the grate as Maud swept out the fires, or chinking of pots and pans in the kitchen as she prepared breakfast. What on earth was going on? As far as she knew Maud wasn’t due to go to market until tomorrow, so where could she be?

A worried frown marred her brow as she made her way around the bed to the window. She drew back the curtains and looked out into the garden in case Maud was pegging the washing out. To her consternation the garden was empty.

“What on earth?” Her frown darkened as she studied a strange bundle of something at the far end of the garden, right at the edge of the trees. She studied what looked like a large bundle of rags, but it didn’t look like a pile of washing. Why would someone leave a pile of rags at the end of her garden?

Her thoughts turned to the strange figure she had seen in the window yesterday, followed by the visit from the even stranger man. Had he got anything to do with the object?

“It isn’t a man. That’s something somebody has dropped, that’s all,” she assured nobody in particular as she made her way to the door. “Maud? Maud, are you at home?” She called as she hurried out into the hallway.

Silence greeted her and she made her way down the stairs.

“Maud?”

Maud usually ran a meticulous household, and kept to a strict timetable which had not changed since the very first day Beatrice had moved in. Maud got up at five o’clock, lit the fires, did the first set of her chores and started to make breakfast at seven. It was now nearly ten o’clock in the morning, so where was she?

As she walked through the house, Beatrice checked each room as she passed and was concerned to note that the curtains were still drawn and the fires unlit in all of the downstairs rooms. The kitchen, although neat and tidy, had not been used to make breakfast.

“Maud?”

“In here dear,” came the muffled reply.

Beatrice almost wept with relief at the sound of Maud’s voice and hurried to the bedroom in the housekeeper’s quarters.

“Are you alright? What is it? What’s wrong?” She studied the flushed cheeks and over-bright eyes and knew that Maud had caught a chill. “You were out in the rain yesterday, weren’t you?” She shook her head when Maud glared balefully at her without replying. “I am going to get you some tea. You stay in bed where it is warm.” She paused long enough to light the fire and hurried out of the room.

“I should be doing that for you,” Maud grumbled.

“This is the first time in nearly fifteen years that you have missed a day. Now it is my turn to look after you, and I will have no argument about it,” Beatrice huffed as she gathered the tea things and stoked the stove up before she put a kettle of water on to boil.

Once the water was heating, she moved to the window and drew the curtains back. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the bundle of rags on the floor beside the woods. Although something warned her not to go out there, curiosity urged her to find out what they were, and where they were likely to come from. She was fairly certain that it wasn’t the carcass of a badger or a fox because it was too big and the colours were all wrong.

She eyed the pot of water. It was going to take a little while to boil so she gathered her shawl and quietly let herself out of the back door.

The day was going to be a warm one. It was only mid-morning and the sun was already high in the sky, and brought with it a certain mugginess that brought out a fine sheen of sweat on her forehead within minutes of being outside. In spite of that, it was wonderful to be outside, and Beatrice sighed in delight as she was immediately encased in summer sunshine. She hurried down the path toward the gap in the low rockery that ran along the top of the garden, intent on finding out what the bundle was so she could get back to the kitchen to make Maud’s tea.