After what appeared to be half a mile of walking, she spotted a small cottage shrouded by trees. Since there were no further houses, she suspected that this was Vincent's home. If it was not, then she would become increasingly concerned. Not that she believed he would lead her astray and harm her; she didn't see him as a villain; on the contrary, She doubted he was capable of such ill intent; he didn't possess the character.
When they made their way to the main entrance, she took the opportunity to study the cottage further. It was exceptionally pretty - more so than the ones they had passed only moments prior. The cottage was clad with Welsh stone and had matching slate roofing. To the right of the building, there was a small, white annexe. Evangeline thought it was a shame for such a picturesque house to be hidden almost entirely from view. Huge pine trees shielded the left side of his home and cast the rest in broken shadows. She was pleased to discover that the back of his home did not share the same concealed appearance as the front; Instead, it backed onto open fields - she could even see the river Dwynant in the distance.
Evangeline remained silent as they approached the door, she couldn't decide whether her reticence was due to quiet appreciation or restrained envy - perhaps, it was a mix of both? She wondered if others shared her admiration for his cottage. It did not possess the grandiose size or style of other homes; Instead, it appeared small and cosy.
Just as Vincent approached the front door, he paused and turned to look at her.
"I hope you have no issue with cats," he teased.
Evangeline shyly shook her head. She had grown up with several cats on the farm and enjoyed their silly antics; whether they were sleeping in the hay-stacks or terrorising the chickens, she remembered it all fondly; alas, those days were long gone now. She wondered if his cat shared the same temperament as her own?
She did not have to wonder for long.
Vincent opened the oak door to reveal a long-haired, white cat sat behind it. Evangeline smiled. It must have been waiting patiently for his return. Her cats did no such thing, they would often walk past her when she entered the house and would only be seen waiting if it was approaching tea-time. It appeared his cat did not share the same temperament at all.
He gestured towards Evangeline, beckoning her to come in. He did not enter first; Instead, he waited until she had stepped inside before following and closing the door behind them. Finally, she could see what her temporary abode looked like.
At once Evangeline's shoulders dropped. She had previously reprimanded herself for her prejudices towards Vincent and decided to no longer harbour any more unjust assumptions towards him. Despite this, she could not have predicted what his home would look like, even if she had wanted too. It was exceptionally rustic and old-fashioned; It reminded her of the farm she grew up on and found the homely atmosphere rather pleasant. She could never have guessed that he was the type of man who would take pleasure in the solitude of the countryside. In that respect, they were very much the opposite. She felt quite happy to leave her slow-paced, arduous country-life behind. They both must have desired what they never had growing up, she concluded.
Whilst Evangeline paused in thought; Vincent quickly turned his attention towards his cat, which was now weaving in-and-out between his ankles. He bent down and in one smooth motion, carefully scooped it up; cradling it in his arms. This silenced its cries immediately.
"Allow me to show you around" He requested, now looking up from the feline in his arms.
Evangeline thanked him warmly and placed her suitcase down by the settee. At present, they were both standing in the lounge. It was by far the most spacious room in the house. There were two armchairs, one settee and a coffee table - all of which circled a grand fireplace, and directly in front of her, there was a small, open kitchen.
He proceeded to guide her around his home, introducing her to his bedroom, the bathroom and finally his study - which he did not allow her to enter. Evangeline couldn't help but grow increasingly anxious as he continued to show her each room, since none of which appeared to be her bedroom. She hoped that she had a place to sleep; she did not expect Vincent to give up his bed for her whilst he slept elsewhere. She decided to be frank and question him on the matter.
"Oh, forgive me for not showing you sooner. The settee is the only place I can offer. I hope this isn't a problem?" He asked tentatively.
She shook her head.
"Not at all," Evangeline began whilst reaching for her suitcase. "I wouldn't want to burden you by being a fuss; the settee is fine."
He shook his head and smiled at her.
"You'd never be a burden. I take great pleasure in being in your company."
Hard as she tried, she couldn't help but blush at his earnest compliment. He gave them so regularly that she was sure it had become a habit. Of course, this did nothing but fan the flames of her infatuation. Previously, she never suspected that he shared her feelings, but now she was more unsure than ever. What a teasing man! Would he continue to send her mixed messages? She would ask him if she wasn't so frightened of his answer, what if he disliked her questioning and threw her out in response? If only he'd give her a sign.
By now, Vincent had wandered into the kitchen and was in the midst of making her a tea. He must have recalled a prior conversation about how she preferred it, she thought. Evangeline looked out of the window. It had grown very dark since they had left the train station, the air had become still and peaceful; even the full moon did little to chase away the darkness. She found it all quite pleasant. She had no trouble imagining how she would spend her evenings in such a house. Perhaps, she...
"Comfy?" Vincent inquired, now placing her tea on the coffee table.
Evangeline nodded, no longer absent-mindedly watching the world outside.
Vincent sat in the armchair to the left of her.
"How was work?"
Evangeline shrugged.
"Nothing out of the ordin... Well, nothing like before at least", She corrected herself and continued, "Speaking of which, did you discover anything else about the murder case?"
He shook his head.
"I never gave it much thought and did not think to investigate it further-"
"But you must have noticed how strange his wounds were and how he had no family or connections to speak of?", She paused for a moment, "I believe there is more to this than what first appears."
"Indeed, they were strange, but I can offer no explanation. We must hope, for all that it's worth, that nothing of that nature occurs again" He concluded.
Evangeline's shoulders dropped at his mention of 'no explanation'. She felt defeated; her once intense curiosity was, within an instant, reduced to nothing. She had hoped that Vincent could offer her some consolation on the matter, but that was not to be. She would have to move on, for the sake of her sanity - and Vincent's peace of mind, of course - she very much doubted that he would want to listen to her constant questioning about the subject. Maybe tomorrow could take her mind off it?