Beatrice (The Tipton Hollow 2)

“Why, Caroline?” Beatrice demanded as she stepped out of the sitting room. In spite of the dangers, she couldn’t continue to cower and hide. She wanted answers. “What have I ever done to you?”

She gasped when Caroline turned a look of such vile hatred upon her that she physically recoiled, and all of her bravado suddenly vanished. She had never, in all of her life, experienced such raw contempt before, and was as confused as she was hurt by it.

“I hate you, you sanctimonious witch,” Caroline snarled. Her lip actually curled as she spoke, and her eye spat shards of molten fire at the woman she had made her enemy.

“I thought we were friends. You came to the Circle, and sat with us night after night while we made things. You have eaten in our houses, drank our wines, laughed and joked with us as you worked on your projects with us. We have been friends to you, yet you have done this against me. Why?”

The more Beatrice spoke, the more her shock and horror wore off and was replaced with fury. She was so cross that she physically trembled with the need to strike out and she had to clench her fists against the urge to stalk up to the woman, yank open the door and physically throw her out of the house.

“You had to have it all, didn’t you?” Caroline snapped. Her narrowed gaze slid insultingly over Beatrice, from the top of her head, to the tips of her toes.

“All of what?” Beatrice demanded.

“You had to have it all. All of the friends; all of your uncle’s house and money; all of the man I wanted.” Caroline turned her contemptuous gaze toward Ben. Something in her face changed and, for one brief moment, she looked sad, lonely and confused. Unfortunately, those hidden emotions were swiftly replaced with arrogant hatred that made Beatrice shiver.

“She is a whore,” Caroline snarled as her eyes met Ben’s. “She pretends to be so pious, so perfect in every way. She has the house. She has money. She has friends. She has you. She has everything. She doesn’t even have to do anything around this bloody house because she has that old bat to do everything for her.”

“Excuse me, I am not an old bat,” Maud retorted crisply from her position still inside the sitting room.

“Maud!” Beatrice snapped and shook her head at the housekeeper’s loud huff.

“Jealousy is no reason to kill someone,” Ben replied quietly.

“She sits in church each Sunday, batting her eyelashes at you; pretending to be innocent. We all see it. The whole congregation in church see everything. You, Ben, sitting there, staring at her as though she was Sunday roast; it’s disgusting. I don’t know how you can have the audacity to sit in such a religious shrine as a church without getting struck by lightning while you behave as you do.”

“Since when have you been God?” Beatrice snapped. “Who are you to pass judgement on anyone? Who are you to put any kind of inference on anything Ben or I do?”

“Oh, so it is Ben, now is it?” Caroline retorted snidely. “Not Mr Addison, like the rest of us.” She snorted and raked Beatrice with another scornful look. “You, a single woman living all alone, is sufficiently familiar with the village’s only eligible man that you call him by his first name.”

“That’s because we are engaged,” Ben lied carefully. “We began courting ages ago, but have kept it quiet because her uncle was poorly. When he passed away, we decided to postpone announcing the wedding out of respect, but have been engaged for a while.”

“Hurrah!” Maud piped up.

In spite of the dangerous situation, Beatrice had to smile at the housekeeper’s sentiment.

“It’s a lie,” Caroline cried. Her horrified gaze flew from Ben, to Beatrice, then back to Ben. “You are marrying her?”

Ben nodded and frowned, but couldn’t see why his declaration would affect Caroline so badly. Was she jealous of him and Beatrice’s relationship? He shied away from the thought that she was attracted to him, and stared a little nonplussed at her for a moment.

She stared at the floor as though trying to decide what to do in light of this new turn of events. It gave Ben the opportunity to share a look with Mark, who nodded to the space on the opposite side of Caroline. Ben pushed Beatrice toward the sitting room door before he began to sidle toward the bottom of the stairs.

Sensing something was about to happen, Beatrice did as she was told and began to back-step toward the sitting room. Unfortunately, her movement snapped Caroline out of her thoughts, and she pierced Beatrice with a baleful stare that was nothing short of evil. Her distraction gave Mark and Ben the opportunity to both lunge at her.

Caroline immediately began to swear and struggle. Her strength was surprising and, for a moment, Ben could fully appreciate just how she managed to handle the huge horse and carriage by herself. However, in spite of the madness that seemed to add to her strength, she was still no match for the considerably larger and much stronger men, who overpowered her within minutes.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Caroline cursed and swore fluidly while she was restrained, and had irons placed securely around her wrists. Both men were breathi

ng heavily by the time they hauled her to her feet. However, before Mark could march her out of the house, Ben stopped him.

“One thing I want to know is; why? What is this all about, Miss Smethwick?”

His eyes met and held Caroline Smethwick’s for several long moments. What he saw in the depths of her dark gaze unnerved him, and he began to wonder if she was insane. It was then that he began to realise just how lucky he and Beatrice were to survive.

“Why her?” Caroline whispered tearfully. “Why her? Everyone sees you every Sunday in church. You stare across the aisle at her as though she is the only woman there. It’s a scandal the way that she struts around the village, pretending to be friends with everyone. She is no better than the rest of us.”

“Beatrice is just someone who is going about her life, that’s all, Miss Smethwick,” Ben assured her somewhat officiously. “In the grand scheme of things, it is not really down to you to judge somebody and decide whether or not they should live or die.”