A Defiant Liaison

VI

"The world will not be destroyed by those who do evil, but by those who watch them without doing anything." Albert Einstein

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VI.

Belle had come to conclusion that Peter Denham was safe alarmingly quickly. Most alarmingly. It was frightening to think of any man as safe, let alone a man of whom she had barely begun to know. But in listening to him talk, Belle could hear the innocence in his voice.

It was odd to consider a man innocent, but she did. The innocence in Peter's voice told Belle that he had never hurt anyone. Peter had never harmed or used anyone. Peter had never taken advantage or exploited anyone. He had certainly never abused anyone. There was decency in innocence, and Belle admired it remarkably. Remarkably enough to declare this man as safe.

He was simply a young man, a baby-faced young man, who seemed to want to talk to her, with no ulterior motive, and certainly no evil intentions. Belle had known evil. She had experienced evil. She had an intimate knowledge of evil. She had a talent for seeing it in the eyes of men, and it was talent she was disgusted by. But it was a talent that protected her, nonetheless.

But there was no evil in the blue depths of Peter Denham's eyes. His eyes were like oceans, so mixed with they with the hues of sky and cerulean. And innocent. Belle thought that 'innocent' ought to be a shade of blue, too.

But then begged the question. Why would a good, decent young man, like Peter Denham, have any desire to speak with her at all? Did he not know who she was? Did he not know what she had been? Perhaps he did not. Perhaps he was blissfully ignorant.

What he certainly was not, however, was blind, and he clearly could see the differences between them. But, like his family, Peter Denham did not possess the common prejudice that she had known too many white men to possess.

And such knowledge only increased the safety that Belle saw in Peter.

"What does that mean?" Peter asked curiously. "I am afraid my French is ... well, I never received any French instruction."

Belle frowned a little. He seemed conscious, self-conscious of this fact. Was French language tuition common? A quick glance around the table and only Susanna and the duchess, Cecily, had been able to communicate in French with Belle. The others all could not. "My English is equally diluted."

Peter smiled, and then his grinned. He had a terrifically broad smile that took up nearly half his face. Even the skin beside his eyes crinkled, and Belle enjoyed that. His smile was just another innocent characteristic. Only innocent people could smile as happily as Peter could.

Belle did not know if she was capable of a smile like that. Her smiles, her real smiles, had been stolen from her a long time ago.

"Was that a joke, Miss Desjardins?" Peter's brows rose.

Belle nonchalantly speared a sprout with her fork and popped it into her mouth. She enjoyed English food. She enjoyed any food. Food was precious. But she did wish sometimes that the cook would choose another method of preparing vegetables than boiling them. The sprouts were a little grey.

"You have a sense of humour, I think," Peter observed.

Belle could not help but smile coyly. Perhaps she did.

Before Peter could speak to her again, his attention was commanded by the duke, who proceeded to ask both he and Jack Beresford curious questions about their upcoming publication.

The duchess, and Peter's, younger brother, Jem Denham, was smiling at Belle. A knowing, almost teasing smile, as she began to attempt to understand the next topic of conversation.