A is For Arson: A Langley & Porter Mystery (FIRST FIVE CHAPTERS)

3 An Offering

"Work for you," I repeated slowly, feeling the words on my tongue as if they'd settled there, utterly dumbstruck by the suggestion. I watched his lips curl into a charming smile and had to confess that I might have understood Miss Calvert's abject fascination with him more than I cared to admit. He was, indeed, quite handsome. Even I, a lowly born merchant class girl, must admit that. Though he had the air about him of one who knew of his own attraction and I had been drawn in and destroyed by such an attitude before.

"Is that so absurd?" he asked innocently. Then he sighed, having correctly understood my expression to mean that I did, in fact, find it quite absurd. So he offered an explanation. "I have been in need of a partner for some time now. Your capacity for observation is astounding. You noticed, from across the room, that book on the shelf was hollowed out."

"I am somewhat of a book expert, having worked with them my whole life," I explained, waving off my observation as a mere trick of my trade. But he was not so easily swayed.

"You made the connection that he must have hidden something of importance there."

"Why else hollow out a book?"

"You surmised who I was and what I was after mere moments after meeting me."

"You were not subtle."

He smiled at that. "I rather thought I was."

"Then your clandestine efforts need work."

"You are an intelligent woman," He praised and I felt my cheeks heating at his words. No man in all my life had ever spoken such a sentence to me and, though my brain was warning me against falling for the flattery, my ego could not help but soar at it. "You are perceptive to the extreme, whether or not you choose to acknowledge it, and you have one other quality that I would value highly in a potential partner."

Curiosity getting the best of me, I asked. "What is it?"

"When you suspected that man may be hiding something and that I was there to figure it out, you effortlessly chose the side of good. You chose to disclose what you thought you knew to the authorities."

I stared at him. He was right. I hadn't thought of it that way at the time, of course, but I had decided to tell him what I suspected. In truth, I hadn't even considered keeping the information to myself. It had been clear that something was going on with Mr. Welford and that this gentleman was here to discover what that was. So, I had wasted no time in assisting the man whom I had presumed, correctly, was on the side of the law. He was watching me now, a look of amused curiosity plain in his expression. I regarded him with suspicion and, admittedly, with an abundance of curiosity of my own. After a moment, he held an arm out to me.

"Come with me to my office," he offered. "We can discuss the terms of your employment there."

I stared out at the offered arm. He had been correct to presume that I was a law-abiding citizen. He seemed to believe that I possessed some sort of perceptive quality and investigative capability. I eyed him carefully. He was well dressed and spoke as an educated man would. He had just assisted the police in an investigation of theft. I had witnessed it. He did not seem the sort of man to fear. Though I had recently had far too many run ins with that sort. Remembering the thugs that had threatened my father and burned down his shop brought fresh clarity to the situation. This man was offering employment. I had been out all morning seeking such an opportunity. No matter my reservations, it occurred to me that I was not in a position to turn down any job offer. No matter what it was or how unseemly it may be for a woman to practice in such a field.

So I took his arm, slipping my own through the crook in it, and he led me, smiling, to the curb where a carriage, vastly lovelier than the rented one which had brought me into town, was waiting. He opened the door and I climbed inside, seating myself on one side while he sat on the opposite. Once he had settled in, he knocked on the top of the box and the driver hurtled off down the busy London streets. I gripped the seat beneath me for a moment before making a conscious effort to relax and folding my white knuckles in my lap as I sat back against the seat. I noticed that he was watching my every movement carefully but making none of his own as if he were afraid that any abrupt undertaking might alarm me and I would dive from the coach like a startled housecat.