Bess stood up from her seat at the worktable and stretched, having just finished repairing the necklace that the shop girl had broken when she tried it on. She had been fired on the spot and now there was a sign on the door announcing that they were looking for help. Until a new employee was found, Bess was tending the shop alone as well as assembling new pieces in the backroom workshop. William usually took care of the store, but he was currently away overseeing the construction of his new store in London. “Clairies,’ as the upper class had dubbed their jewelry, were more in demand than ever and it was past time to expand.

Deciding to get a bit of fresh air before starting a new task, Bess left the workroom and walked through the shop. She could see herself reflected in the glass of a display case. Her rounded belly was becoming more noticeable now and she smiled softly. This pregnancy had been a surprise to both her husband and herself, but a very welcome one. She hoped that she would have a daughter this time.

The bell above the door tinkled as she stepped outside. The gentle spring breeze wafted over her and Bess stretched again, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the salty scent of the air.

Aslan had a few jewelers he rotated to – some in disguise … one, not. Bess’ was respectable – the kind of place good, upstanding citizens frequented – and so Aslan had never dared. It was just as well, considering she hired him.

She was one of the farther ones. He got out the bicycle, polished and shined the already polished and shined thing just in case Dr. Witaker paid close attention to bicycles, and off he was to Bess’. There were a few missing reports, and he had a list of their descriptions in one pocket.

He wore a proper suit and gloves that fit right, and hoped the old bowler wasn’t too out of fashion for this part of town. Dapper canes and carriages were the realm of his clients, so it always felt a bit similar to … well, breaking and entering, except he was technically allowed to be here.

Aslan opened the shop door, and found the owner absent. In no rush to fetch her and only mildly considering snooping, he took this moment to take out his list and start comparing what was on display.

Needing a bit of exercise, Bess walked around to the back of the store. Her back ached from sitting still for too long. When she was engrossed in her work, she tended to ignore her own discomfort. That discomfort would be increasing in the coming months and she would probably have to stop working eventually. William would insist on it, though she could always keep designing from home.

There would be many things to do before the birth. The nursery had already been decorated and furnished but a nurse needed to be hired, a luxury she had not enjoyed when her sons were born. There were perks to owning a prosperous business, including the ability to employ more servants. The St.Clairs now had two maids and a cook who had been with them since their marriage. Bess was thinking of hiring a part-time maid to help out as well.

The bell above the door chimed again. It looked as if she had either a customer or an applicant for the shop attendant job. Opening the back door that led into the workshop, she moved through it and into the store proper, smiling when she saw Mr. Koç perusing the merchandise with a list in his hand. One of the disadvantages of owning a popular jewelry store was theft and she had hired him to recover stolen items in the past. Their jewelry was distinctive in style and not so easy to sell on the black market. However, there were some pieces that had never been found.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Koç.” Bess walked over to him. “I hope you are doing well today.”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. St. Clair.”

He had caught a woman around Whitby whose husband had the unfortunate habit of robbing from jewelry stores in the same town they lived in. Sometimes it was nice when the case was simple.

There were a few women he wanted to investigate, but had no way of getting polite access to. He’d had a close enough call with that one’s husband, and he hadn’t even been one of the habitual thieves.

Aslan had the same impassive expression as he always did.

“Quite, thank you,” he answered.

‘My sister might murder some of those thieves,’ he didn’t. Bess paid well, though, so he hadn’t entirely written it off …

“I’m still looking into those cases, but I have some promising leads. For now, though, are you buying gold at the moment?”

Bess was a tall woman and she knew plenty of men close to her in height. However, it was rare for one to be several inches shorter than she was, and she always felt like a giant when in the company of Aslan Koç. It was a strange sensation and she had yet to become accustomed to it. What he lacked in stature, he made up for in productivity. He had found more stolen jewelry than the last detective who had worked for the St. Clairs. Aslan was also not old and set in his ways like the previous one.

Bess had hoped he had news about some of the unresolved thefts, but instead he wanted to sell some gold. Although they crafted most of their own jewelry, they did buy pieces and either resell them or use their components to create something new. William had started buying jewelry long before he met Bess, mainly because so many Whitby residents needed money but were too proud to accept donations.

Was Aslan desperate for money, she wondered? “Always,” she replied. “Did you bring it with you?”

Why did he always feel so short around Bess? There were women who literally patted him on the head, but something about the way her gaze landed. It made him feel like her gaze had to staircase all the way down her plus-one, down the desk, down past the subterranean level of the earth, and then stutter back up like she’d gone a flight too far in finding him – even when she looked him right in the eye.

He bet she didn’t even realize he was shorter. Silly him.

“I did,” he said, reaching into his pocket.

On the counter he set down four large, golden rings.

“I was clearing out the closet. How are you and yours doing? Have there been any other thefts since we last spoke?”

Bess looked at the rings, one dark eyebrow arching in surprise.  Even without examining them closely, she could tell that they were of superior quality.  She knew that Aslan wasn’t rich so where had he gotten them?  As a reward for solving a case, perhaps?  Maybe they were heirlooms from a family member he had not been fond of.  Or, as she had earlier surmised, he needed money.  She didn’t know a lot about him.  For all she knew, he had an addiction to gambling or was overly fond of loose women.

She picked up one and placed it in the palm of her other hand, watching it glitter in the sun streaming through the glass window.  “We’re doing well.  We just moved into a larger house by the sea.  Our family keeps growing.  Our niece came to live with us and there's a new baby on the way.  The business is expanding as well.  William is in London to open a new branch there.”

Bess sat the ring back on the counter and picked up another.  “Luckily, there have been no more thefts.  We’ve been thinking of hiring a guard to watch the store at night.  The second floor of the shop can be turned into living quarters.  Would you know of a trustworthy man who might be interested in the position?”

He caught the arch of her brow, giving the slightest of nods in acknowledgment. He was well-aware that they bent by this point, which most likely meant either copper coated in gold, or …

Or their money problems were solved for a time, for the measly cost of crossing lines that ought never be crossed. For laying to bed the Aslan that was, and waking up the Nisa-like mirror that thrived, writhed and cajoled each time he was faced with even the mildest of trying decisions.

Fortunately for Bess, the house of cards that was Aslan’s self-respect tumbling down anew made no sight nor sound – just a vague disturbance in the air, like a smell that could have been a fart but may just as likely have been a breeze over the gutters drifting in.

“Congratulations,” Aslan said. “I’m glad your family is doing well. My sister has been showing more interest in courting, speaking of families. If you know any gentlemen who would be--…”

There was the slightest of tenseness at the corners of his mouth, and a brief pause.

“-- Gentlemen, in every sense of the word, toward a beautiful young woman, she is twenty-two, incredibly tidy, and excelled in finishing school.”

Someone to live in her shop to guard it alone. A bachelor, he assumed.

“I know a few who fit the description. Do you have a preference for Christian men?”

“Thank you, Mr. Koç.”  Bess knew very little about Aslan’s own family and was surprised when he mentioned that his sister was interested in courting.  She’d had no idea he even had a sister.  She wondered if the young woman had ever visited the shop.  Unless they were buying something and she needed the information for her records, she never asked for her customers’ names.

“I’m afraid I don’t,” she said with an apologetic smile.  “Most of the men who come in here buy jewelry for their sweethearts.  My husband might know a few young gentlemen.  If you would like, I’ll ask him when he returns from London.”

Bess felt a bit guilty that she didn’t know any single gentlemen, while Aslan seemed to know several men who could guard her shop.  “As long as he’s trustworthy and won’t fall asleep at the job, I don’t really care about his religion.”

“Certainly,” he answered. “Truth be told, I doubt she is in any hurry. Better to choose right than choose quickly.”

Easier said than done, and frankly he would rather think less about any of her future husbands rather than more. Much as he had disliked their former in-laws, at least he didn’t grieve her last husband after how dismissive he had been.

Thank Allah she didn’t care about religion; that spared him trying to keep one lie straight.

“Ah, good. There’s a Jewish fellow I’d trust with my life. Very quiet, very humble, and a giant of a man to boot.”

Well, from what he knew anyway. Menachem had never given him trouble.

He glanced to the ring in her hand. Leaned against the counter.

“Had to be careful not bending them on the way here.”