by Nerys Leigh
He grinned. “Thought so. You’re not as tough as you pretend.”
She bit back a giggle at the way he was dancing around. “I am every bit as tough as I say I am.”
He beckoned her in again. “Come on then, prove it.”
Heaving an exaggerated sigh, she rose to her feet. “Just remember, you asked for this.”
He bounced to meet her. “Stop stalling.”
She knew what he expected was for her to throw a sloppy punch which he would easily deflect, and then he’d catch her and use it as proof that she needed to learn how to defend herself.
What he didn’t know was that her family lived next door to a lovely couple and that the man supplemented their meager income by bare knuckle boxing. He’d offered to teach her and her sisters, but their parents were of the opinion that fighting was not at all appropriate for a lady.
Belle, however, had sneaked out twice a week for months to take him up on his offer.
Clenching her left hand, she threw a feint that Val easily dodged by ducking to his left, straight into the path of the uppercut she drove into his diaphragm.
He doubled over with an audible oof, staggering backwards and clutching his torso.
“Are you all right?”
He raised a hand, coughed a couple of times, and straightened with a grimace. “Where on earth did you learn to punch like that?”
She couldn’t help smiling. “From a man we lived next door to. He was a prizefighter, and a great teacher.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Of course he was. Why didn’t I think of that?” Pressing a hand to his stomach, he shuffled to the wall nearby and leaned against it with a wince.
Her smile faded. “Did I hurt you?” She hadn’t thought she’d punched him that hard.
He shook his head. “I’ll be okay in a minute.”
She walked up to him, reaching to touch his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
Grabbing her outstretched hand, he spun her around and pressed her back against the wall, pinning her arms either side of her head. “Lesson one in self-defense, never trust an injured man.”
She smiled at him. “Lesson two in self-defense, never forget that a lady has knees.”
She nudged his thigh with her bent leg. If she’d been in real danger, she would have used it.
“Ha! Seems we both have something to learn.”
“Seems so.”
Holding her in place as he was brought him close. Too close. It made her heart beat faster and the room feel like it was several degrees warmer and her body want to do stupid things like leaning into him and raising her face so her lips could meet his.
He gazed into her eyes and leaned forward a little and for a moment she felt sure he would kiss her.
But then he let go of her hands and stepped back, turning his gaze away. “I, uh, that was good. You can already fight if you get the chance. I’ll teach you what to do if you don’t, if you’re trapped or you’re facing a man with a gun or a knife.
Breathing in what felt like her first oxygen in hours, she nodded. “Thank you.”
She really needed to stop fooling herself he was going to kiss her.
Chapter Twelve
Belle peered into the mirror, trying in vain to apply the black powder without looking like someone had punched her in the eye. The theatrical makeup designed to make performers’ features more visible on stage in the limelight was a nightmare to get right.
She wasn’t even meant to be in the actual show, they were supposed to have finished the case before that. But they were only a day away from opening night and they still had no proof that Mr. Curtis robbed the train depot.
The thought that she might have to actually go on stage in front of an audience made her stomach roil.
Behind her in the dressing room, the rest of the women were giggling over the men who worked in the theatre, rating each one for attractiveness. Belle wasn’t paying attention.
Until someone said, “And what about the new stagehand, Valentine?”
There was a chorus of sighs and “Ohhh”s.
“Now that is one fine figure of a man,” Violet said.
“That’s the truth,” Phyllis added.
A knot formed in Belle’s throat. She tried to ignore it.
“Have you seen his eyes?” Petunia said. “I swear, he can make me swoon just by looking at me.”
“I spoke to him for a good five minutes the other day,” Charlotte said. “It was all I could do to not throw myself into his arms the whole time.”
A bout of giggles erupted.
“Not that any of us would get a chance,” Violet said, “with Maria setting her sights on him.”
Belle’s hand slipped and a smear of black powder streaked across her cheek. She rubbed at it in annoyance with her one remaining clean finger.
“Can you imagine being kissed by him?” Phyllis said.
Violet laughed. “I’ve been imagining that very thing for days.”
“I wouldn’t want to kiss him. I prefer a man with better personal hygiene.”
The four other members of the chorus turned to look at Belle.
She hadn’t intended to say anything. It meant nothing to her if the other women thought Val attractive. Her mouth, however, seemed to be operating independently of her brain.
“What do you mean?” Charlotte asked.
She stared intently into the mirror. “It’s just, have you smelled him? I’m sure the odor could fell an elephant if one got too close.”
“And when did you get close to him?” Violet said with a smirk.
“A couple of days ago I needed something from a shelf I couldn’t reach and he happened to be there. He lifted his arm and…” She made a disgusted sound. “His breath was none too fragrant either.”
The women looked at each other.
“I do prefer someone to smell good,” Petunia said.
Charlotte nodded. “Now Timothy smells heavenly.”
There were murmurs of agreement.
“And he looks very good in costume,” Violet added, to more giggles.
Belle returned to applying her eye powder. And wondering why in the world she’d said anything.
~ ~ ~
Belle was in a quiet corner backstage that afternoon, about to take her first bite of her sandwich during her break, when Val found her.
He was carrying two lamps.
“I’ve been thinking and you’re right, the safe has got to be here somewhere. We must have missed something.”
She smiled at him sweetly. “Was there ever any doubt?”
He snorted a laugh. “I’m going back down to the basement. Want to come?”
“Dress rehearsal starts in half an hour, but I have until then.” She put aside the napkin her sandwich had been wrapped in and stood, taking a large bite. She still needed to eat.
“Again, you won’t have to perform in the actual play. You don’t have to be perfect.”
She walked with him into the corridor where the basement entrance was. “The play opens tomorrow night. Are we really going to have solved this by then?”
“The way I figure it, Curtis has been trying to stop the show from opening, so something about that must affect his plans. It stands to reason that this has got to end before that. We’ll find the safe or he’ll do something to reveal it and we’ll catch him. Either way, you won’t have to go on stage.”
She hoped he was right, but she wasn’t convinced.
“So where was Curtis when you saw him?” Val said once they were down the stairs in the basement.
She pointed across the room. “He was over there, but I didn’t get close enough to see what he was doing.”
“We’ll concentrate there then.” They walked to the area she’d indicated and he set the lamps to illuminate the area. “Maybe there’s a hidden cupboard or something.”
They began yet another search. Belle didn’t know how it would help, seeing as they’d searched this very place the day
before with no luck, but she was pleased he was taking her ideas seriously. She was desperate to find something to vindicate her theories.
“Have you heard any of the chorus girls talking about me?” Val said as they worked.
Her gut contracted. Surely he couldn’t know about the women’s earlier discussion? “Why do you ask?”
“The strangest thing has been happening since this morning. Several times one or another of them has come up to me, and I swear they were trying to sniff me.”
She couldn’t help it. She burst into laughter.
He turned to stare at her. “What?”
She wrapped one arm around herself and grasped the back of a nearby chair for support, gasping for air.
He narrowed his eyes. “What did you tell them?”
“Nothing,” she managed, when she finally got her giggles under control. “Well, maybe not nothing. They were discussing you and the other men and I didn’t think it would be beneficial to the case if they paid you excessive attention. It would make it harder for you to investigate.” Oh, that was impressive. She’d never before come up with such a good excuse so quickly. Maybe it was a result of her new training. “So I may possibly have mentioned that you have questionable personal hygiene and bad breath.”
He gaped at her. “You told them what?”
Her laughter threatened to erupt again. “It was just to protect you and the investigation.”
“So now I not only snore like a bear, but I also smell and have terrible halitosis. What next? I kiss like a wet haddock?”
She affected a serious look. “Do you? I could tell them that too.”
He planted his hands on his hips. “No, I do not kiss like a wet haddock!”
“I only have your word for that. I think I can bring it into conversation somewhere...”
Before she could go on, he strode over to her, grasped her face in his hands, and pressed his mouth to hers.
Her lips exploded in a whirlwind of sensation that rapidly turned to a tidal wave of heat as his mouth played over hers. Against her will, her eyes fluttered closed. She didn’t intend to press closer to him, and yet she did, her hands rising of their own volition to grip his waist. A sound she felt rather than heard rumbled through his chest and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his fingers pushing into her hair to cradle the back of her head. Somewhere in the back of her mind was the thought that she should push him away, but it failed to make any impression.
When he finally pulled back, she was slightly afraid her legs might buckle. How long had the kiss lasted? The logical part of her mind, which was rolling its eyes, said no longer than fifteen seconds. The emotional part of her mind had no idea, dreamily grinning like a loon as it was.
His hands slipped from her hair and he pushed them into his pockets. “So, did that feel like being kissed by a wet haddock?”
For a moment she had no idea what he was talking about. Or where they were. Or what her name was.
She scrambled desperately for a coherent thought “Um... I, uh, I don’t know. I’ve never been kissed by a haddock, wet or otherwise.”
The corners of his mouth turned up a little and he gazed at her until she was afraid he’d be able to see how affected she’d been by the kiss.
Then abruptly he turned away and walked back to where he’d been inspecting some kind of contraption made of gears that was set into the floor. “We’d better keep searching. We don’t have much time.”
Away from his scrutiny, she licked her lips and wiped one hand down her face.
It was just a kiss, that was all. She’d been kissed before. Valentine’s kiss was no different from any other man’s.
All right, that was a lie, but it was neither here nor there how spectacular the kiss had been.
Resuming her search for the safe, she silently ordered the emotional part of her mind to stop humming.
Chapter Thirteen
“This is all your fault.”
Val looked down at the finger poking into his chest. “Good morning to you too. What’s my fault?”
Belle spun away from the door and marched to the bed where her shawl lay. “You promised we’d be done by today and I wouldn’t have to perform in front of an audience. You promised we’d have the case wrapped up by now. You promised.”
He had, and he’d failed. “I’m sorry.”
She picked up the shawl and put it down again, not looking at him. “I’m scared.”
He walked over to her and, taking her gently by the shoulders, turned her to face him. Sad eyes rose to meet his and it was all he could do to not draw her into his arms.
“We still have a few hours.” He was grasping at straws, but seeing her afraid tore at his heart. He wanted to give her hope, however small.
She dropped her gaze to his chest. “I know being afraid doesn’t make me a good Pinkerton agent.”
“Wherever did you get that idea?” She raised her eyes again and he smiled. “I’m frequently afraid. Every agent is. Sometimes fear keeps us alive.”
“But I’m not afraid of actual danger. I’m afraid of going on that stage and making a fool of myself. It’s not the same.”
If only she could see herself as he did. “Belle, don’t you know how incredible you are?”
Her eyes widened. “I…I’m what?”
His hand rose to cup her cheek. “Nothing on earth could make you look a fool on that stage. You are a shining star. You’re strong and graceful and beautiful and, no matter what you do, every last man in that audience will fall in love with you.”
It was only when he’d finished that he realized what he’d said. First the kiss the previous afternoon, which had just about done him in and taken all his willpower to stop, and now he was saying things like this to her. He needed to get a hold of himself.
He dropped his hand to his side and stepped back. “How about we go get breakfast? You’ll feel better after you’ve eaten.”
Her neck bobbed and she turned back to the bed. “Yes, you’re right. I, um, I’ll be right with you.”
That was his cue to leave her room and, for once, he was glad of it. “Just knock when you’re ready.”
Back inside his room, with the door closed, he slumped against the wall and pressed both hands to his face. If only for his own sanity, they needed to find that safe and stop Curtis today.
Except then he might never see Belle again, and try as he might, he couldn’t find a single thing to like in that prospect.
~ ~ ~
It being the opening night of the show, Maria allowed everyone to have the afternoon off and they didn’t have to arrive at the theatre until later in the day. Belle and Val spent the time on the case.
Belle tried to focus on her job, her real job as a Pinkerton agent, but her impending stage debut lurked in the back of her mind the whole day, despite Val’s assurances they still had time.
They paid a visit to Sheriff Carr and updated him on everything they’d discovered, in case he had any information that might help them. He didn’t, but he was very interested in the theory that Mr. Curtis and his friend had been behind the train depot robbery. Apparently he’d been under a lot of pressure from the owners of the railroad to find their lost payroll.
The sheriff wanted to go to the theatre and question Mr. Curtis immediately, but Val convinced him to hold off. He still thought things would come to a head with the opening of the show and he didn’t want to scare the suspects away. Belle was impressed with how highly the sheriff seemed to value Val’s opinion. She knew he was an outstanding agent, but it filled her with a deep sense of pride that others shared her impression of him.
She wondered if, once she was working on her own assignments, people would value her judgment as highly. Probably not, being a woman, even though Val seemed to. No, not seemed to, he truly did value her opinion. It was just one of the reasons she was grateful he was the one she’d been paired with. And one of the reasons she’d miss him so badly when they were no longer together.
&n
bsp; From the sheriff’s office they went to the theatre, but Curtis wasn’t there and another, final search of the basement and the rest of the building again produced nothing. Disheartened, Belle ate a late lunch with Val at the restaurant then retreated to her hotel room to rehearse her parts in the show once again.
When they returned to the theatre that evening, it was to a far calmer scene than Belle was expecting. After more than a week of what often appeared to be chaos, the area backstage was remarkably peaceful.
Until Augustus rushed past them, muttering loudly. “Today, of all days! He couldn’t choose any other day to not show up, it had to be today, when replacing him will be all but imp…” He stopped abruptly, backed up, and looked Val up and down. He waggled a finger at his chest. “Undo your shirt.”
Val stared at him. “Excuse me?”
Augustus flashed him a look of irritation. “Unbutton your shirt or don’t get paid.”
Val glanced at Belle. “Uh… okay.”
He unfastened his buttons and pulled his shirttails free so he could open the front, angling away from her so she couldn’t see his bare chest.
Augustus nodded. “You’ll do. Timothy hasn’t shown up and we need a replacement.”
Timothy was one of only three males in the cast of Infamy & Cleopatra. None of them had any lines and all of them were tall, good looking and well muscled, more set dressing than anything else. Belle had to admit she liked how the tables were turned in burlesque.
Val wrapped his shirt back around himself, holding it closed defensively. “I… can’t. I don’t know what to do. That isn’t my job.”
“Stand onstage, wave a palm leaf, feed Maria grapes. You’re just there for decoration. Come with me, I need to get you into costume.” Waving at him to follow, Augustus headed for the corridor that led to the back rooms.
Val looked at Belle, eyes wide with panic.
She patted his arm. “You’ll be just fine. Like you said, everyone will be looking at me anyway.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Why do I get the feeling you’re enjoying this?”
“Because you’re a good detective.”