Unsurprisingly, she didn’t even look at it before she slammed the door in his face.
With a sigh, he turned around, shared a look with Beatrice, and led her back to the carriage.
She had never been left speechless by anything in her life before, but this was one of those rare occasions when words just failed her. Ben appeared to feel the same because silence settled over them as he nudged the horse into a walk.
Before the house disappeared from view, she turned around to take one last look at the unwelcoming monstrosity.
“Look,” she whispered, and gave him a rough nudge.
Ben turned around in time to watch one of the lace curtains in an upstairs room lower slowly back into place.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“What do you think he is hiding?” Beatrice whispered as they disappeared into the canopy of the trees again. “God, I hate this,” she added with a shiver as she studied the thick branches of the trees that seemed to loom menacingly over the driveway.
“Either he does not wish to be seen – identified - or that wasn’t Richard Browning upstairs.”
“It’s Browning’s house,” she argued.
“Yes, but we don’t know who lives there, do we?” Ben argued. “I mean, how do we know that was not Sigmund Hargraves looking out of the window?”
“Whoever it is in there, if they want the plant, why didn’t they just talk to us? They could have taken the opportunity to argue that the plant is theirs,” Beatrice muttered thoughtfully and shook her head. “I don’t believe it was Hargraves.”
Ben sighed and struggled to withhold the curse of frustration that hovered on his lips. “I know. I think it was Browning too. We just don’t know for definite.”
“If it was Browning, why wouldn’t he speak to us? He didn’t even know who we are.”
“Oh, I think he knew alright. It may be that he has no interest in the plant, and just wants to be left alone.” He didn’t believe it for one second, but they couldn’t start to see shadows where there were none; no matter how haunting Browning’s house was in broad daylight.
“We don’t know that Browning was involved in the cultivation for definite. We only have Archie’s word, and cannot really be completely confident about that.” He sighed and looked across at her. “Browning may be afraid, darling. After all, two men on that list are dead. He may be reluctant to meet with anyone while danger lurks.”
Beatrice sighed and conceded that he had a point. As they left the house behind, she felt herself slowly begin to relax. “If I was on a list like that, I think I would be scared too,” she admitted carefully.
“All we can do is wait and see if he gets in contact,” Ben added and nudged the horse into a trot. Although it made their journey bumpier, nothing mattered more than getting Beatrice away from that house. He wished now that they hadn’t decided to drop by, and was relieved to be able to put the entire episode, and the house, behind them.
“I can only hope that the man isn’t like that house, or you can expect the grim reaper to turn up,” Beatrice retorted in disgust. She threw him an apologetic glance when she realised what she had said. “Sorry.”
“It’s alright. To be honest with you darling, I have to raise serious doubts about the reputation this man has of being wealthy. Nobody with money in their bank leaves their house to fall into such disrepair.”
“It should have been knocked down years ago,” Beatrice muttered. “Whatever he spends his money on, it certainly isn’t his home.”
Silence settled over them while Ben navigated the narrow lane, and they both sighed with relief when they turned out into the main street without incident.
“Are you ready for your surprise now?” He grinned openly as her eyes lit with somewhat youthful pleasure.
“Of course I am. I cannot wait,” Beatrice sighed and drew in a deep breath of crisp, clean air as happiness swept through her. “Lead on,” she ordered enthusiastically.
Within minutes, Ben pulled the carriage to a stop beside a small river that ran around the outskirts of the village.
“Come on,” he murmured, and lifted her down. Once her feet touched the floor, he walked to the back of the carriage and removed a wicker picnic basket and blanket before he turned to her with a mischievous smile. “Let’s go and get something to eat,” he suggested softly.
“This is beautiful, Ben,” she enthused as she studied the trickling water, and the flower laden banks that ran alongside.
“Take a seat,” Ben said as he waved toward the picnic basket. “My housekeeper suggested this spot when she found out that we were coming here,” Ben replied.
Now that he came to think about it, his housekeeper had been remarkably helpful. Not only in providing a picnic basket without notice, but in knowing exactly where best to take Beatrice.
He sat down beside her and opened the basket. Two glasses and a bottle of wine la