Beatrice (The Tipton Hollow 2)

“How many ruthless killers are there in this village?” Constance gasped in horror.

Tuppence leaned forward in her seat. “What is going to happen to her?”

“Now that the ladies are here, Beatrice, we are going to take her off to the station,” Mark announced from the doorway. He winked at Harriett, and smiled reassuringly at Beatrice. “Lock the door behind us and tell Isaac where we have gone when he gets back, would you? We will come straight back here when we are done and will escort you ladies home.”

Maud followed them to the front door, and slid the bolt closed when they had gone. She turned to look across the width of the hallway at Beatrice, and they both heaved a sigh of relief. The whole atmosphere within the house seemed to become lighter now that the sinister threat had been removed.

One problem solved, Beatrice though on a sigh as she shared a sad smile with Maud, and returned to the sitting room to her friends.

“Now that we are able to talk more fully, I want the news Beatrice,” Harriett declared firmly as she plonked her knitting in her lap and pinned Beatrice with a stare that warned her friend that she wasn’t going to work on anything, or go anywhere, until Beatrice had told them everything. “I know there is more,” she added with emphasis when Beatrice hesitated. She knew because Mark had told her, but Beatrice didn’t need to know that.

Right now, Beatrice was so pale, and had such a tormented look in her eye, that Harriett was deeply worried. She knew from her own trauma last year that it helped considerably to talk to someone about her problems, and knew just what to do to help her friend.

“Where is it?” Harriett demanded crisply.

“What?”

Harriett rolled her eyes. “The plant.”

“Oh, Ben has it,” Beatrice replied.

“What plant?” Tuppence demanded with a frown.

Harriett sat back with a satisfied smile, and listened to Beatrice’s story. Everyone sat in stunned silence when she finally lapsed into silence. However, this being the ladies’ Circle, nobody was quiet for long.

“What do you plan to do about the plant now then?” Eloisa demanded.

“Right now?” Beatrice sighed. “To be honest with you, I haven’t really had much time to think about it. I find it a little creepy that we were sitting so close to Richard Browning, and didn’t know it.”

“Do you think that is why he refused to see you when you called by his house? Because he had already seen you and wasn’t really able to talk to you again without giving the game away?”

Beatrice nodded. It was all starting to make sense now. “I think you are right. There can be no other reason. But, why didn’t he tell us he was Richard Browning? Why claim to be a dead man? Surely he must have realised that we would find out?”

Beatrice sat back and studied her friends. It was good to be able to talk to them and knew from the thoughtful look on their faces, and the fact that none of them had picked up the projects they were working on, that they were doing their very best to offer whatever help they could. She was suddenly very glad that in spite of her mental weariness, she had decided to host the Circle anyway.

“He has got something to hide,” Harriett declared flatly. She selected a biscuit from the tray before her and began to nibble on it while she frowned blankly at the floor beneath her boots. She tried to think like Mark, she really did, but her husband was the one who was used to lies and subterfuge through his work and, not for the first time, she didn’t envy him his job.

Constance took a biscuit too, and waved it in the air once she had taken a bite. “He could be the killer.”

Everyone groaned.

“Not another one,” Tuppence sighed with a frown. “How many killers can one village contain?”

“Richard Browning doesn’t live in the village, he lives in Brampton Marches,” Beatrice replied, but made no attempt to deny Constance’s theory about the identity of the killer because she knew her friend was most probably right.

“It is very good of Ben to be such wonderful support,” Hetty remarked as she gave Beatrice a pointed look.

“I know. I don’t know what I would have done without him. He has been truly wonderful throughout all of this.”

“Do you know, I thought that there was something going on between you two,” Constance sighed dreamily. “The way that he looks at you across the church is so divine, pardon the pun. He can barely take his eyes off you. He is a lovely man. You cannot wish for better.”

Beatrice felt her cheeks heat beneath the interested gaze of the ladies, and studied her teacup and saucer far too carefully while she waited for their attention to shift onto something else. Unfortunately, it didn’t.

“I take it that things are serious between you two? Are you officially courting now?” Mrs Dalrymple asked encouragingly.

Beatrice thought about Ben’s declaration at the picnic and couldn’t deny it. “Yes, I rather think that we are,” she declared softly, and felt rather proud at the prospect of being connected to him in such a way.

She had once considered that Harriett had captured the only eligible bachelor in the area, apart from Isaac Brown, who appeared to be wholeheartedly dedicated to his job. Now though, she knew matters were considerably different. The most eligible bachelor in the area was Ben.