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* * *
Jack Weaver sat in the barbershop chair beside Emile. Sidney checked the length of Jack’s hair, making sure it was even all around, and double checked his blade before he began shaving the man’s face. Jack was a scruffy man; there was really no other word for him. He had dark blond hair and a matching beard that seemed to grow at a rabbit’s pace.
No matter how often he came in for a shave, Jack could never seem to keep his face smooth. He’d given up shaving at home altogether because he kept nicking himself, even after Sidney had made him a gift of some very good razors.
“So, has Belle really gone mad, or is she just madly in love with you?” Jack laughed and looked at Sidney with a twinkle in his blue eyes. If he’d been just a normal customer, Sidney might have thrown him out, but Jack was a friend and prone to teasing.
Emile groaned. “Let’s not start on this again, Jack. You’ll only get my brother riled up.”
“Why should he get riled?” Jack asked. “Surely he knows that Belle is a foolish young girl.”
Sidney’s veins began to burn. “Belle is only passionate about the things that matter to her.”
The two men looked at him. “She seems awfully passionate about you, does she not?” asked Emile. “I thought you told me she did not want to marry a lowly barber such as yourself.”
“That’s right,” Sidney said.
“Well, for someone who doesn’t want to marry you, she seems to be awfully upset that you’re marrying someone else,” said Emile.
“Emile’s right,” said Jack. “I haven’t seen Belle since her return, but from what I’ve heard, her actions are loud and clear. She wants you, Sidney—and only you.”
Sidney felt a twinge of elation at hearing Jack’s words, but he shook his head. “I saw Belle this morning at the boardinghouse. She admitted to me the only reason she wanted to marry me was because she wanted to be in Elmwood, nearer her sisters, without causing them an inconvenience.”
“And you believed her?” said Jack with a laugh. “That’s her pride talking if ever I heard it.”
Sidney looked at him, razor in hand. “What makes you say that?”
“It’s far too convenient an excuse,” Jack said. “She’d clearly thought it out before she said it. She’s trying to save herself from any further embarrassment.”
“Jack’s right,” said Emile. “You said it yourself. Belle’s far too passionate a person to do anything for such practical reasons.”
Just then the door to his shop chimed and Belle came in. Her face was red and pinched, and she seemed out of breath, as if she’d been running. She paused when she saw Jack and Emile, her eyes moving from them to Sidney. “I’ve got to talk to you,” she said.
Sidney hesitated. “I’m busy at the moment. Can it wait?”
“It cannot. If we are friends, then act as one now and spare me a moment of your time.”
Sidney’s mouth clenched. He shot his brother a look as if asking his opinion. Emile shrugged. Jack only looked on with an arched eyebrow and a glint in his eye that said, I told you so. That look did nothing to better Sidney’s mood. He was only glad that Irene was not here. The wedding was only a few days away, and she was too busy preparing for it to help in his shop.
After their marriage, once she was well rested from all the events, he would properly train her as his assistant and he was certain the clumsiness she’d shown the first time here would demonstrate itself as having been a one-time event. Sidney took in a breath and let it back out again.
He turned back to Jack and Emile, irritated that no one other than himself seemed to think Belle’s presence here inappropriate.
He knew perfectly well he’d told her they ought to start over and be friends, but that was only a few hours ago and already she was calling in favors. What would she be like tomorrow? But the longer he looked at her, the brighter her blue eyes seemed to get. The color in her cheeks was up, stirred to a lovely shade of pink from whatever had caused her to burst in here and demand his attention.
Whatever she wanted to talk to him about made her appear more alive than Irene ever could. The animation of her features was not unbecoming to her, in fact, it was quite the opposite. Every lick of her soft, pink lips, every blink of her long, black lashes, called his attention to every sensuality her body offered.
He longed to kiss her lips, to touch her cheek with his hand and feel its softness. He was so certain from looking at it that it must be like a cloud. Heaven brought to Earth just for him.
“Sidney?” Belle asked.
He blinked, and he realized he’d been staring silently at her. His cheeks colored, and he caught Emile and Jack nudge each other from their chairs, a knowing wink on each of their faces.
“All right,” he finally said, looking at the men. “You two—out.” He ushered Jack and Emile toward the door as they whispered teasing jokes to him.
“She wants you,” said Jack. “Let her have you.” He snickered loudly and shot Belle a look.
“Jack’s right,” said Emile, his whisper a hair louder than Jack’s had been, which irritated Sidney even more. “Get her into a chair and show her you know how to do more than just cut hair.”
Sidney rolled his eyes; Jack just laughed. The two men exited the barbershop and Sidney turned his closed sign around before anyone else could come in with their silly jokes and preposterous presumptions.
Whatever Belle was here for, it probably had nothing to do with himself or Irene. He looked closer at her face and realized her eyes were not just bright, they were alarmed. The corners of her mouth had tiny, tight lines at the ends of them as she pressed her lips together. She was worried about something, and he suddenly felt like a cad for taking as long as he had to attend to her.
“Belle, what’s wrong?” he asked.
“I found this,” she said and handed him a black leather purse. He looked down at it, blinking, knowing that he was missing something but not sure what it was.
“What is this?” he asked.
“It’s Irene’s purse,” she said, her voice strained.
Sidney looked at it again and saw she was right. He had not immediately recognized it as hers, as women’s purses tended to look the same to him. “Why do you have Irene’s purse?” he asked, a sinking feeling growing in his chest and moving to the bowels of his stomach.
“I just told you—I found it.” Her eyes darted quickly to the floor.
“Where did you find it?” he asked.
“A dress shop. She forgot it there when she left the place.”
“And how did you happen to be in the same dress shop as Irene?” He paused, tilting his head to the side. His breath caught in his throat. “Oh, my Lord, was this the same dress shop I left her in but an hour ago?”
Belle’s blush was answer enough for him. He took the purse with a violent pull. “You were spying on her. You had no right to betray her privacy in such a manner. She’s done nothing to you.”
“The shop is open to anyone,” Belle said haughtily. “And anyway, you’re missing the point entirely. It’s not the purse that’s upset me, it’s what’s inside it.”
He looked at her again before turning back to the purse. “And what’s inside it?”
“Just open it,” she said.
“I will not. This is Irene’s property and I would never betray—”
Belle yanked the purse back from him and opened the top clasp. She tipped it upside down and a pile of money fell onto the floor. He racked his brain, trying to remember the last time he had seen so much money in one place. He was not sure he ever had outside of a bank.
“Where did this money come from?” he asked her automatically, bending over to pick it up. His brain to pointed out to him that if she were telling the truth, she would most likely have no idea where this money had come from.
“I haven’t any idea,” Belle told him, confirming what his brain had already said. “But don’t you find it suspicious? Why is Irene traveling with so much money? Where did it come from?”
Sidney pursed his lips. “It’s unusual, I’ll give you that, but suspicious?” He shook his head. Belle gaped at him as if he were speaking a foreign language utterly indecipherable to her. “I’m sure that Irene has a perfectly reasonable explanation for it. I’ll simply ask her about it when I see her next.”
If possible, Belle’s mouth dropped open even further. “Can you be so blind? Is her beauty truly so remarkable that you cannot see past it?”
“Her beauty is fine, but it is in no way a factor in my consideration of her money. If she has all this, it must have come from somewhere. Perhaps an uncle died and left it to her, or perhaps she’s been saving it since girlhood, or perhaps—”
“Perhaps she stole it,” Belle said.
Sidney groaned.
“Irene is not a thief,” he said, anger bubbling up in him, though his mind failed to be satisfied with his own explanations as to the origin of such a large stockpile of cash, and even less satisfied as to the reason she would carry it with her and not put it somewhere safe.
“There was another train robbery not long ago,” Belle said. “The Beauty Bandits escaped justice yet again.
Sidney laughed. “And you think Irene is one of them? A Beauty Bandit?” Now he knew Belle had truly gone mad. He set Irene’s purse aside and pressed one hand against the small of Belle’s back, ignoring the tingle of warmth he felt when he did so.
“You must leave,” he said, ushering her toward the door.
“Sidney, you must listen to me. Irene is no good for you. She’s hiding something. You can’t trust her.”
They were almost to the door. He paused and looked at her. “How did you happen to look in her purse, to begin with?” When she said nothing, he tilted his head to the side. “You say Irene left it in a dress shop, but why did the owner not bring it by? Why you?”
She looked at her feet, and Sidney’s eyes widened. “Oh, my Lord. There is only one thief in my acquaintance, and it most certainly is not Irene.”
Belle glared at him. “I did not steal it, I found it.”
His temper, however, was rising to the point that he could hear no more on the subject. “I want you to leave,” he said through gritted teeth.
“And I want you to listen to me,” she shouted.
“I shall never believe another word you say. I was wrong to think we might be friends. Go now before I turn you over to the authorities.”
Belle’s mouth dropped open. “Sidney,” she said, her hurt obvious. “I’m only trying to protect you.”
“Then stay away from me,” he said coldly. “For the only one I need protection from is you.”
Her shoulders drooped then, and she closed her mouth, leaving silently as tears filled her eyes. When she was gone, Sidney turned back to the purse. Where had Irene gotten so much money from?
He pondered the question a long while before finally realizing a line of customers had formed outside his door. He took the purse into his back room and shut it away before turning his closed sign back to open and getting back to business, which suited him just fine. He’d had enough irritation for one day, and it was only early afternoon.
* * *
