A Defiant Liaison

VIII

"If I can see pain in your eyes then share with me your tears. If I can see joy in your eyes then share with me your smile." Santosh Kalwar

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VIII.

"Was he making you uneasy?" Alex asked Belle as soon as he caught up with her. "He told me that he had come to the grocer today to help you but –"

"Mr Denham did help me," Belle said, interrupting him. Looking up at Alex, Belle could see the concern in his dark eyes, and the deep line of worry across his forehead. "He is kind." Safe, she thought.

Alex's brow softened a little. "Kind he may be, but that does not mean that you need him coming near you. I know you prefer distance. You need only say the word and I will ensure that he gives you a wide berth."

Belle understood Alex's need to protect her. Perhaps it was intense. Perhaps it was a little over the top. But it would only seem that way to an outsider. Alex had looked upon, and looked after, Belle this way ever since they had been sold together in the British Virgin Islands. She could see in his eyes that he still had not forgiven himself for allowing that wretched, vile man to lay his hands on Belle, to attempt to violate her as only an entitled villain could. Alex had saved Belle that day, but not before she had prayed to God to kill her to spare her from such a fate. Alex would rather die than given another man, any man, the opportunity to harm Belle again, even if he was perfectly harmless. 

It would be easy, Belle thought, to give Alex her permission to make Peter Denham stay away from her. She had begun to tip-toe into a sort of life that could make her happy here in Ashwood. She was safe with the Beresfords. She had a way to earn her own income. She had food, shelter, freedom. What more could she want? What else was there to a fulfilled life? She had wanted nothing more than these things for years.

Never had she even considered the thought of a suitor, if that was even what a man like Mr Denham could be. Perhaps she was entirely wrong, but Alex seemed to think there was reason to believe it. Belle had never considered anything of the sort because she had never known a man to be capable of loving anything, let alone a woman. She had never seen love before.

That was, of course, until she had seen it with her own eyes. First with Alex and Susanna, and then the duke and duchess. And then, most recently, between the duke's brother and his wife. It certainly existed, and there seemed to be men who were indeed capable of holding onto a woman without harming her.

But to even imagine herself in such a situation was impossible. It was impossible. It would never happen. Could never happen. If there weren't so many obvious reasons as to why it could not happen, there was the sudden fear that had bubbled up into her throat as she imagined herself in the position of one those women.

Beholden to a man. Belonging to a man. To be at a man's mercy.

The very notion was terrifying and unimaginable. Belle envisioned pain, violence, and fear. She could feel the pain, as though bruises had already covered her body. Instinctively, Belle wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to calm herself.

Belle thought of Peter Denham. She forced her thoughts away from her fears, and she thought solely of him, of the man who had fought a battle for her today and won. The man who was the reason why she was carrying her own income home. The man who was safe. She had felt that he was safe. She knew in her bones that he was safe.

Belle was no fool. She knew exactly why he had sat behind her in the shop all day. He had sensed her fear, but he had not pressed her about it, nor had he expected anything in return from her. He had sat there, all day, just because Belle did not want to be alone with Mr Andrews. And she had been too much of a coward to even thank him, let alone to talk to him while he was there. She was glad, at least, that she had found her tongue outside before she had parted from him.