Chapter 6

The cold bit into Beatrice’s skin as she hurried across the path toward the side entrance of the estate. The house’s warm lights glowed ahead of her, but they felt a world away. She had spent twice as long as she normally did in the barn with the mother cat and her little kittens—she’d been feeding the mama personally every night before bed since she’d found the poor little mama half-starved behind the barn.

Beatrice had somehow just expected that man to be waiting when she headed back in. And he was. Right there where she could just make out his broad shoulders in the lamps surrounding the back veranda. She slipped behind the smaller shed and took the side path.

Avoiding Dr. Collins was her newest goal. She was going to succeed at it, too.

Why would he not just leave her alone? She had not asked for this acquaintance with him. And she could not do what Agnes told her she should. She just could not. The idea of flirting with him, even for fun—no. She could not. Would not.

Beatrice went over and over it in her head—the words they had said. Used. She had spoken her feelings aloud— You upset me —and he had thrown it back at her with a precision that left her feeling exposed. She just did not know what to think about that man.

Beatrice was so focused on her thoughts that she did not notice the figure standing in the shadows until she nearly walked into him.

“Whoa, easy there,” a voice said, deep and faintly slurred. “Well, hello, little lady. I don’t believe we’ve met before. I’d have remembered. Maybe. Tonight must be my lucky night.”

She yelped. Beatrice stumbled back a step. A rather tall man she had never seen before stood in front of her, his wide-brimmed hat pushed low over his brow. He tipped it slightly as he smiled, though there was a sloppiness to the gesture that made her uneasy. She clutched her lamp closer, resisting looking over her shoulder to where Dr. Collins was coming up behind her.

She had never felt unsafe with Dr. Collins, she realized. Angry, unsure, yes; but not unsafe. But now…she did not feel safe at all.

“What’s the rush? You look like you’ve been up to no good, out here all alone,” the stranger said. He stepped closer. Too close. “With a young man, perhaps? Well, who could it be?”

His fingers wrapped around her wrist. Without her permission.

Beatrice straightened. He had no right to be putting his hands on her at all. Did all American men think they could touch a girl without asking first? Unlike Dr. Collins’s touch that burned, this man’s hand felt damp and…slimy. And very unwelcome. “I did not see you there. Excuse me, sir. I am on my way inside to speak with Elspeth and her husband now. They are waiting for me.”

She stepped to the side, intending to slip past him, but he moved with her. He’d cut her off neatly. Expertly. Like the man had done so to women before.

“Don’t be in such a hurry, darlin’,” he said, his smile widening. “A pretty woman like you shouldn’t be running off alone at night. What if you fall? Or worse? All kinds of monsters out here loose in Texas, you know. Just waiting to gobble you right up.”

Beatrice stiffened, her fingers tightening on her shawl. What was it with Texas men telling her what she should or should not be doing? “I’m perfectly capable of walking on my own, thank you.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and unsettling. “Oh, I don’t doubt that. You’re a spirited one—I suspect. But that doesn’t mean a man can’t offer his arm, does it?”

He stepped closer, his gaze sweeping over her in a way that made her stomach twist. She took a step back as she looked toward the house. It felt so far away.

“Really, sir, I must go. And I do not ken ye at all,” she said firmly, trying again to step around him.

But his hand shot out, catching her by the elbow. “Now, now. No need to be so skittish. I’m just trying to be friendly. I met your little friends inside—but I suspect you are this little Beatrice they assured me I could meet in the morning. Maybe I do not want to wait until morning? Maybe I want to meet little Beatrice tonight?”

Beatrice pulled her arm back, but his grip did not loosen. “Let go of me!”

He did not. “Now, don’t be ungrateful. I’m being kind. Willing to escort you back inside where you are safe. Before the monsters gobble you right up.”

Beatrice’s breath caught, her hand pressing against his chest to push him away. His grip tightened. “I said let go!”

If he did not let her go, she was going to scream. As loudly as she could.

“Duvall!”

The voice was cold, commanding. And came from behind her.

Dr. Collins was there.

She had suspected he would catch up to her soon. She stood there, shaking. But Dr. Collins was there—she was not alone with this stranger. This…monster.

Dr. Collins looked big and strong and terrifying in the scant light from the single lamp she carried and the one the servants lit by the door each night.

“Take your hand off of her,” Dr. Collins said. “Now.”

“Collins, I heard you were here, too. You somehow always seem to appear at the most inconvenient times. Surprise, surprise.”

“Now.”

She shivered. Dr. Collins’s voice sounded so cold and menacing. Frightening.

The man released Beatrice’s arm with exaggerated care. She stumbled back a step, her knees shaking, but before she could fall, Dr. Collins’s hand was on her shoulder, steadying her. The warm scent of mint and clean man surrounded her. Overriding that of the spirits and sweat she smelled on the other man. Beatrice almost pressed to Dr. Collins’s side, not even thinking of what was proper now.

“Are you all right?” Dr. Collins asked. “Beatrice?”

Beatrice nodded. He pulled her closer, away from the other man. Beatrice wanted to just stay close to him. He did not scare her. Not Dr. Collins. Made her angry, yes. But she was not afraid of him.

“He just startled me, is all. Coming out of nowhere like he did.”

“You see?” the other man said, spreading his arms in mock surrender. “No harm done. Just a little misunderstanding.”

“If I ever see you put so much as a single finger on her again,” Dr. Collins said in the meanest voice she had ever heard from a man. “I will rip that finger off and shove it down your throat. The other nine right after. Never touch her again.”

His hand spread over her back. Scorching her.

“Staking a claim already? Heard you’ve only been here two days. Can’t say I blame you. Been playing around behind the barn with the girl already, Collins? How…dishonorable of you.”

“I’m damned more honorable than you ever will be.” Dr. Collins’s hand was around her elbow, holding her close. Almost possessively. “Stay away from her. Or I will simply kill you.”

Beatrice did not know what to make of such a comment. She just wanted to get away from both of them. This was about something more than just her now.

“She’s a choice one, isn’t she? Young and…ripe. Very ripe, just ready for a man to…pick her. You been with her in the barn already? Shame on you, Collins. Thought you had more honor than that. Then again, maybe she’s the kind who likes it. We both know women like that?—”

“Are you implying what I think you are?” Dr. Collins sounded so angry. It scared her. They both did now. There were so many emotions running between them that she just did not understand. Beatrice fought the urge to break down completely.

And that made her want to run away. To Elspeth and Agnes and where she would be safe again. As safe as a girl could be, that was.

The other man turned, and headed toward the door. The one at the end opposite of them. Beatrice just stood there and shook.

“Did he hurt you?” Dr. Collins asked. “Tell me.”

She shook her head, though her hands trembled. “Not, he just…startled me. Coming out of the dark like he did. That’s all. And he would not let me go when I asked.”

“You shouldn’t have been out here alone. I told you that earlier.”

Was he saying she’d caused the man to be so rude? “Don’t you dare blame me for that man’s behavior.”

“I’m not blaming you. But you should’ve stayed inside. Darkness brings danger, Beatrice. You’d best remember that.”

Beatrice glared at him. “I did not ask for your help.”

“No,” he said evenly. “But you needed it.”

Neither of them could deny that truth. “Thank you. For making him go away, I mean.”

“Come on,” he said quietly. “Let’s get you inside. And promise me something—stay away from him. That man’s a rat of the worst kind. I’ve seen Dr. Duvall in action with beautiful women before. No scruples at all, either.”

Beatrice just nodded. She believed him—the last thing she ever wanted to do was talk to that Dr. Duvall ever again.

Dr. Collins, either.

Why did men have to be so confusing?