Having dropped Fred off at the farm, Ben turned the carriage around and pulled up outside of Beatrice’s house nearly an hour later.
“God, what a day,” Ben sighed as he secured the reins and climbed down. Now that there was no carriage in hot pursuit, it was safe to take Beatrice directly home and, he wasn’t afraid to admit, it was a relief to finally get there.
Beatrice threw him a worried look. Her head was whirling by the time she let herself into the house, and she didn’t think anything of Ben following her into the sitting room. They both slumped wearily onto the couch for a moment and stared into the cold grate.
“Are you alright?” Ben asked as he picked her hand up and kissed the back of it.
Her fingers clung to his for a moment and she stared into the fireplace without answering. Right now she didn’t know how she felt. There were so many emotions churning through her that she didn’t know where to start to put a name to them all.
However, like a beacon of light down the end of a long, dark tunnel, the one strong emotion she could recognise was the deeply abiding love she felt for the man seated beside her. The strength of emotion she felt for him frightened her a little, at the same time that she found i
t immensely reassuring. Although he had yet to declare any deep feelings for her, she knew, without any doubt, that her love for him was now an intrinsic part of who she was. She loved him, and that only made her stronger and more capable than she had ever been in her entire life.
She eyed the clock on the mantle. It was too late to cancel the Circle meeting tonight.
“What do we do if she turns up tonight?”
“I am going to be here,” Ben declared flatly. “She won’t be in a position to hurt you, Beatrice. I promise.”
“We have no proof that it was her, Ben. She could have sold that carriage to someone local.” When she sensed that Ben was about to argue with her, she turned her head to look at him. “While I am not protecting her, or trying to find excuses, we have to be logical in this. We saw someone running away from the scene of the carriage accident, we didn’t exactly see her. Well, I didn’t. There is nothing to say that the driver of that carriage was her, although I have to admit that it does look likely. What I am asking is; what do we do if she does turn up as though nothing has happened? We can hardly accuse her of trying to hurt us without proof.”
“I don’t want that woman in this house, Beatrice. She could have caused us both significant injury.” He held his hand up when he saw her take a breath to argue with him. “I think that while the finger of suspicion points in her direction, she has to stay away until she can prove her innocence. Tell her that the meeting has been cancelled; that you are not well or something.”
Beatrice kissed his jaw and leaned against him. “With the mystery over the plant to contend with as well, I don’t know how much more I can take.”
Ben sighed and drew her closer. He rested his head against hers while he tried to think of the best way to get them both through the evening ahead. Beatrice looked pale and shaken, while he was blazingly angry, and more than a little disgusted with Caroline Smethwick. He had no doubt in his mind that she was the one who had driven the carriage.
To Ben, it was evident that she hadn’t sold the damned thing at all. She had lied, kept it, and merely moved its storage location so that nobody knew she still had it. If she had nothing to hide, why would she need to be so secretive?
One thing was certain. If, for some reason only known to herself, she had decided to target Beatrice, and had taken the opportunity to make several attempts to either scare or hurt her, then it was evident that the woman knew exactly where Beatrice was going, when and who with.
They were being followed, and it wasn’t by Sigmund Hargraves.
Was Caroline Smethwick responsible for killing Brian Mottram? If so, why? Ben hadn’t seen much of Brian Mottram’s corpse to know how tall he was. Had he been murdered in a case of mistaken identity because the killer had struck thinking he was Beatrice?
Ben cursed his own foolishness. He had been so wrapped up in the wonderful woman in his arms that he hadn’t seen this new set of surprises coming. He briefly wondered whether they should call at Harriett’s and see if Mark was at home but, given that it was still the middle of the afternoon, Mark was most probably at work in Great Tipton. However, given the nature of his job, it was unlikely that he was at his desk. They could traipse all the way over to Great Tipton for nothing and, right now, he wanted Beatrice out in the open as little as possible.
“Oh God, no,” Beatrice whispered when several loud thumps on the front door rang hollowly around the house.
“I’ll go,” Ben said as he stood up. “It could be Fred.”
That was enough to get Beatrice up too, and she moved to stand in the sitting room doorway while Ben disappeared into the front parlour to look out of the window.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“It’s Mark and Isaac,” he announced when he re-appeared in the hallway seconds later.
Beatrice almost sagged beneath the enormous weight of relief that swept through her, and hurried across the hallway to let him in.
“Thank heavens you are here,” was all she managed to get out before she burst into tears.
Ben immediately drew her into his arms and cradled her while she cried into his shoulder. He shared a look with Mark and Isaac as they entered the house.
“I am sorry,” Beatrice whispered as she wiped her eyes. “A few weeks ago, I thought my life was boring. I wish it was now.”
Mark smiled and shared a rueful look with Ben as he followed everyone into the sitting room. “Look on the bright side; it will be something to tell your children.”
“What do you know?” Ben asked when Beatrice had composed herself.