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* * *
Sidney’s shop really was busy throughout the day, and Belle was glad of the opportunity to help him. Irene was all but useless to him—Belle saw that right away. No wonder the poor man was desperate for an assistant.
She could still not understand how they had made up so quickly but chalked it up to Irene’s pretty face. Her manners, however, were far removed from beauty, as was her ability to handle any bottle without breaking it.
Belle was certain that if she only stayed long enough in Sidney’s shop, he would come to appreciate her help far more than Irene’s. Belle would certainly do everything in her power to highlight her skills, which were far above anything Irene had to offer him.
The customers had trickled in slowly for the first half-hour or so, then they had seemed to come all at once, a rush of men looking to get their hair cut and their faces shaved. Belle swept the floors easily, wiped down the counters without breaking anything, and greeted every customer who entered the store with a warm smile that made their day a little brighter.
Irene, on the other hand, looked dour the whole time. Her face was tight, and she continued to glare at Belle every few minutes. Belle ignored her and relaxed her face, and she thought that between the two of them, her own face far exceeded Irene’s in beauty.
When, after only an hour or so of being open, Irene had walked up to Belle and asked that she help her in the back room, alone, Sidney’s face had gone stark white. He’d asked Irene to handle the register and Belle the back room, as he needed at least one of them out on the floor with him.
“But that register hates me,” said Irene. “It is always trying to close on my fingers. Do you wish for me to lose a finger?”
Sidney had groaned and asked Belle to handle the register instead, while Irene took care of the back room. They had both obliged Sidney’s request, but Irene had given Belle a warning look that said they would speak later.
Another half hour passed with the sounds of bottles crashing in the back room and other items falling off the shelf or being moved around. Sidney’s customers looked nervously toward the back, and Belle began to wonder if Irene wasn’t breaking some of those bottles on purpose. Even for someone as seemingly clumsy as she was, the crashes that sounded forth were far too frequent and far too loud to have been an accident.
Finally, Sidney asked Belle to go and trade places with Irene. Belle went into the back room, and a moment later, Sidney was behind her, smiling and chuckling nervously. He must’ve realized that sending Belle to the back placed her and Irene alone together, and he did not want that to happen, even for a minute.
“Irene, Belle is going to take over for you back here. I need your help on the register. Belle... um... her fingers are aching.” He looked at Belle with pleading eyes and she said nothing to contradict his lie, scoring a point in her favor, she thought.
Irene smiled sweetly at him. “Whatever you need.”
Belle looked around the room, at the broken glass and the stinking mixtures lying in puddles on the floor, and let out a low groan. It was going to take her the rest of the afternoon just to clean this mess up. She wondered if that had been Irene’s plan all along.
Toward closing, Belle came out of the back room and saw that the customers had died away. Irene and Sidney were standing huddled together talking in low voices, looking at each other as though no one else mattered.
Belle’s heart fluttered, and her stomach turned sour. If this was how things were going to be for her while working here, then she would not return tomorrow. She knew it was giving Irene what she wanted, but she could not stand to see Sidney so enraptured with so vile a creature.
“If that’s all,” Belle said, “then I suppose I’ll go.” She moved toward the front door and realized how dark it was outside. The clock on the wall read seven, and Belle started at the time. “Is it seven already? The clock in the back room said it was only half past five.”
Sidney’s smile faltered. “I’m afraid that clock’s been wrong for months now. I keep saying that I’ll fix it, but I forget almost immediately.”
Irene took hold of his arm and drew him back toward her.
“Silly Sidney. He ought to have told you that you could go home before now. I suppose he was so busy with me he forgot you were even here.”
From the embarrassed look on Sidney’s face, Belle was tempted to agree with Irene for once. Sidney had forgotten her, and the sting in her heart ran deep.
She bit her bottom lip, her eyes beginning to ache. The need to cry strong inside her. “I’ll just go then.” Her voice cracked, and she hated herself for letting on just how upset she was. It must make Irene feel so good to know that Belle was suffering.
“Belle, wait,” Sidney said, stopping her with her hand on the door. “I didn’t forget about you.” His voice was low, and she saw Irene move closer to them, straining to hear. “I just... you were so helpful to me today, I was reluctant to let you go. I was afraid you might not return tomorrow, and a better assistant I’ve never had.”
Irene looked astonished. Sidney must have caught it from the corner of his eye because he quickly added, “Except for you, of course, Irene.”
But the damage had already been done. All at once, Belle’s sadness turned to elation, and Irene’s gloating behavior turned flat and sour.
“Of course, I’ll return tomorrow,” said Belle. “You may count on me.”
Sidney looked out the window. “It’s dark out. I do not think you should walk home alone.”
Irene laughed. “Darling, I’m sure Belle is more than capable of caring for herself.”
Sidney looked at her. “I would not have you walk home alone in the darkness either. Even though I’m equally certain you’re capable of caring for yourself.” He frowned. “You would not really have her walk alone in the darkness, would you?”
Irene’s eyes flashed irritation before resuming their sickly-sweet appearance. “No. Of course not.”
“Good. Then allow me to lock up and we’ll all leave together. We’ll walk with Belle first, and then I’ll go with you.”
Belle’s heart pinged with annoyance that Irene should get to walk alone with him, but if she put up a fight about it, she felt certain she would lose some of the favor she’d gained in Sidney’s eyes, so she said nothing and merely smiled.
Walking along, the women automatically separated to either side of Sidney. Each took his offered arm, and they moved in a straight line toward Summer’s home. “Thank you very much for the help,” said Sidney to Belle. “I’ll pay you at the end of next week, if that suits you all right.”
“It does,” she said.
“The end of next week shall be our wedding,” said Irene smartly. “I can hardly wait for you to see my gown, Sidney. I promise you it’s worth the wait. And Mrs. Dunford has agreed to take off ten percent because of her error.”
Belle let out a sarcastic laugh. “I shouldn’t think you wouldn’t have to concern yourself with money when you have so much of it.”
Irene paused and looked at her. “What do you mean?” Uncertainty laced her voice.
“When I first found your purse,” said Belle, “I wasn’t sure who it belonged to, so I looked inside for identification and saw a large amount of cash.”
Irene stopped walking. Sidney and Belle went a step further, Sidney stumbling a bit, his face turning a bright red before his eyes turned to Irene.
Belle did not think she’d ever seen Irene look so angry as she did at this moment. “You did not tell me Belle is the one who returned my purse.”
Sidney cleared his throat. “Didn’t I?”
“No,” Irene said coldly, shaking her head.
“Oh, well... I suppose I thought it unimportant,” Sidney said.
Belle reveled in this news. She’d had no idea Sidney had kept this bit of information from Irene and was happy to be the one to unfold it to her.
Irene looked at Belle. “I suppose I ought to thank you, then,” she said, her lips and voice tight. “A lesser person would have taken my money instead of returning it to me. There was not one cent missing.”
Belle smiled politely. “It was my pleasure.” She paused. “Might I ask where you acquired such a large sum?”
Irene hesitated and looked at Sidney before answering. “A relative of mine passed away recently. I was their only living heir.”
Sidney looked relieved at her words. “I knew there was a perfectly sound reason for it,” he said, more to himself, but Irene gave him an agitated look.
“If you wanted to know,” she scolded him, “then you should have asked me. I have no secrets from you.”
“Of course,” he said. “Forgive me. I did not wish to intrude on your private affairs.”
Irene stared coldly at Belle now, who had not fallen for Irene’s response so easily as Sidney had. “What relative?” Belle asked.
“My uncle,” said Irene.
“When did he die?”
“A few months ago.”
“Why not put the money in a bank?”
“I don’t trust banks. They’re always getting robbed.”
“These days,” said Belle, “so are trains. Yet you carried the money with you on your way out here. Almost as if you knew it would be safe. As if you had information about the recent train robberies others are not privy to.”
Irene’s eyes widened. “What are you implying?”
Belle opened her mouth to reply, but Sidney cut her off. “Nothing,” he said. “Belle is just speaking what can only be her very foolish mind.” He glared at her, and Belle quickly shut her mouth. Sidney was clearly not ready to accept the possibility that Irene was a thief, whether it was trains she was robbing or anyone or anything else. She would only make things worse if she continued in this fashion.
“It was a joke,” said Belle. “Of course, I don’t think you to be a train robber.”
“Your sense of humor continues to astound me,” said Irene, beginning to walk again. She looked at Sidney and gently squeezed his forearm. “I’m tired. And I’m sure Belle is as well. Let’s finish getting her home, shall we?”
Sidney nodded, and Belle pressed her lips together. Whatever hold Irene had over him would not be easily broken, but that did not mean it would be impossible. Belle had already gained another week to set things right thanks to Irene’s dress mishap. She would not squander that time. She would use it to get what she wanted—Sidney.
* * *
