Beatrice (The Tipton Hollow 2)

Ben nodded and waited.

“You have helped me out so much since we left the church on Sunday that I don’t know how to repay you. I am really extremely grateful to you, but cannot help but think that I have put upon you far too much. I mean, up until Sunday, I didn’t know you at all. Although we saw each other in church on Sunday, the only time we have actually met before was when you picked me up off the floor.” She winced when Ben suddenly grinned.

That fateful afternoon, three years ago, when she had first set eyes on him, seemed like only yesterday. She had suffered the indignity of stumbling over a loose cobble on the main street in Tipton Hollow, and had landed in an unceremonious heap on the floor. Ben, being the only gentleman nearby, had helped her to stand and made sure that she was alright before he had hurried off. He had been completely unperturbed by the entire event, however was in such a hurry to get away that he hadn’t even bothered to wait for her to thank him. Beatrice meanwhile, had been left to stare after him with her mouth open and her senses awhirl. It was something she had never been able to forget; not least because the memory of it was so stark, so fresh, and so intriguing.

“I was a heap on the floor,” she muttered glumly.

“You were a very beautiful heap on the floor,” Ben mused teasingly.

Beatrice smiled at him. “As I recall, you looked at me as though I was going to lunge for your throat, or drag you down onto the floor with me. You hurried off a fast as your feet would carry you.” Although her words were light and jovial, there was a small tinge of hurt hidden in her voice that Ben couldn’t ignore.

“I was too stunned for words, Beatrice. You were – are, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life.”

Beatrice’s cheeks flooded with colour. She wasn’t sure quite what to say to that. A wild thrill of delight coursed through her and she stared nonplussed at her plate while she tried to get her wildly swinging emotions under control.

Ben smiled at her and leaned toward her so he could capture her chin with gentle fingers. He eased her around to face him and looked deeply into her eyes.

“I have not been able to forget that day; I have to be honest with you. The first time I looked into your face, something changed within me and I haven’t been the same since. Each time I have closed my eyes since, I have seen you. You are there throughout each waking moment. Right now, there is nowhere else I would rather be. I need to be here for me as much as you. Because of the way I feel about you, I cannot sit back and allow anyone to hurt you. Not you, Beatrice.”

“Ben, I don’t know what to say. You have always seemed so aloof; so unapproachable, that I had no idea you felt this way,” she replied quietly. A part of her was thrilled, but another part of her was incredibly wary. “Each week, at Sunday service, all you seemed to do was glare at me, and I never really knew what I was doing that I offended you so much.”

Ben scowled “I wasn’t offended. You could never offend me, Beatrice. You are by far the most wonderfully kind, considerate and thoughtful person in the village. Everybody says so and, if I was scowling at you at church on Sunday and it made you feel uncomfortable, then I apologise because it certainly was not intended.” He sighed and studied his plate for a moment while he thought about his determination to go to service just to see her. “I have to be honest with you Beatrice, that while most of the county go to church, I am not an overly religious man. My parents always went to church, and forced me to go, but it was always a burden of mine that I have endeavoured to break myself out of as an adult. However, since I moved here and met you, I have found myself going again, but only because your pew was directly opposite mine.”

He looked up at her gauge her reaction; she looked more than a little puzzled.

“You go to church because I am there?” she asked with a small frown. “But you never made any attempt to speak to me.”

“I know,” he sighed. “That’s always because you hurry out of church after each service as though you just realised that you have left a pot of water on to boil. You don’t even stop to speak to Harriett, or any of your friends. Unless I decided to chase you across the churchyard, I have had little opportunity to speak with you, so had to make do with at least being able to see you.”

“I always meet with my friends at Harriett’s tea shop on a Monday,” she replied quietly. “I am shocked; I had no idea that you wanted to talk to me too,” she added and meant every word.

“You wanted to talk to me too?” Ben asked incredulously. He was relieved, yet strangely sad at the thought of all of the time they had wasted when they could have been together.

She nodded. “After we met on Main Street, I heard that you were new to the area. You were so incredibly handsome; I wanted to know more about you. I asked Harriett about you. She told me that you had just moved in to the Old Bakery on Church Street, but nobody knew all that much else about you.”

“What do you want to know?” Ben asked, and carefully picked up her hand and held it.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty nine. You?”

Beatrice smiled. “Twenty four.”

“What do you do for a job? Do you work?”

“I work,” Ben replied. “I am an artist. I sell my work through an agent in London, and mainly work on commission. My parents are deceased and I inherited their wealth, although have invested it because I earn more than enough to live a relatively comfortable life.”

“I didn’t mean to pry,” Beatrice assured him, and hoped that he didn’t think she was nosing into his private affairs.

“It is important information, Beatrice. I told you; you didn’t ask. I like fruit cake – a lot, and Eccles cakes, but my favourite food is strawberries. I don’t like going to church; enjoy being out in the countryside, and mainly draw and paint landscapes and still life. I don’t do portraits because I don’t have the patience to coax someone to sit still for as long as it takes to draw anyone, although I would like to do at least one to see how it turns out.”

Beatrice’s smile dimmed when he looked at her meaningfully for several long moments. “Oh no. Not me.” She shook her head frantically. “You are most definitely not putting my face down on paper.”

Ben smiled at the mulish tilt of her chin and decided to set the issue aside for now. He had no doubt that at some point during their lifetime together he would coax her to sit for him but, right now, he wasn’t going to push for anything she wasn’t happy with.

“One thing I want you to understand about all of this, Beatrice, is that while I would prefer it if you were not in danger, and didn’t have all of this mystery to contend with, I am not going to let you deal with it by yourself. I will be with you every step of the way while we solve this. While I do have work to do at home, there is nothing that cannot wait for a few weeks, and cannot fit around my need to help you.” He looked at her a little sheepishly. “One thing I meant to add to my list of ‘likes’, is that I love a good mystery.”

Beatrice groaned and shook her head. “Oh, so that’s why you are helping me,” she t