Her Heart's Desire

The girl walked briskly but gracefully through the city streets. It was only October but already a hard autumn chill was in the air. She pulled her long coat tightly around her as she hurried across a cobble-stoned street. Her glossy dark curls bounced behind her as she moved. Upon reaching the other side she glanced at herself reflected in the bookseller's window. She pulled off her wool hat, stuffed it into a pocket and smoothed her hair. The cold air had reddened her cheeks and lips but she was happy to see her nose was the same ivory as the rest of her face. She'd been out of work for weeks, and while she knew her family wouldn't let her starve or go homeless, she much preferred to live her own life in the city, away from their prying eyes. But with rent past due on her modest flat, her choices were dwindling. She was qualified for secretarial work, but without a current reference had been unable to secure a place. That had led her to the bookseller. The shop has advertised for a bookkeeper/clerk. She was sure it was really a glorified shop girl position but was in no position to be a snob about it now. Bending to straighten her stocking, she looked up once again to see a man peeing out at her from inside the chemist. Realising her position bent over fixing her stocking had likely given the man a clear glimpse at her breasts, she straightened and blew him a kiss. That usually startled men into making an embarrassed retreat. However, this man didn't retreat. Instead he stood in the shop aisle, gazing at her with a smirk that said he knew that trick and wasn't shamed into falling for it.

"Shit," she muttered to herself. Well, there was no help for it. She needed the job and she was going to have to go inside to get it.

Shoulders back, chin up, she walked over to the shop door and pushed it open. An overhead bell tinkled as she walked in and took a look about. It was a much smaller shop than she'd thought from outside, ancient from the look of things but clean and well-lit.

"What can I do for you, miss?" The girl looked to the source of the inquiry and saw the same man, wearing the same smirk. Damn. He works here, she thought. No matter. She could deal with randy colleagues – she'd loads of experience.

"Hello. I've come about the position."

"What position would that be, Miss--"

"Ophelia Waters."

"Miss Ophelia Waters. My name is Daniel Lansdowne."

"I'm glad to meet you, Mr Lansdowne. About the position?"

"What position would that be, Ophelia?" Mr Lansdowne's somewhat cheeky grin took on a decided lascivious nature as he stressed the word. Ophelia found herself flustered, an unusual state for her. She knew how to fend off bastards like this one. But as he leered at her she could feel herself blushing. He was attractive, no doubt, and the deep timbre of his voice thrilled her in a secret way, but she needed this job. No time to let sex interfere with her daily bread. That's the type of rubbish that had landed her here without a reference.

"The bookkeeper position, Mr Lansdowne. I'd like to see the owner, please."

"You're seeing the owner, Ophelia." He stretched his hand out and Ophelia shook it, still somewhat dazed by her reaction to him. He held her small hand firmly in his and pressed it with his free hand. "I'm afraid that position has been filled."

Ophelia's heart dropped. Truly this had been the last decent job in the city. Trying to keep the desperation out of her voice, she replied somewhat airily, "Oh, pity. Well Mr Lansdowne, sorry to have taken your time." She turned to leave but he did not release her hand.

"Stay." He spoke the word not as an entreaty but as a command and Ophelia felt another thrill run up her spine. She stopped moving away from him and stood still. "Excellent," he murmured. "As I said, that position has been filled. However, I have another position available that you might do for quite nicely." He let her hand drop and she pulled both hands behind her back, chest out, chin up as if awaiting military inspection. Ophelia gasped aloud as she realised she'd presented herself to this man Daniel, a stranger, as if she were a slave and he her master. Blushing furiously for the second time in less than a quarter hour, Ophelia pulled her hat from her pocket and pulled it on. Not daring to meet his eyes, she murmured a goodbye and nearly ran out the door, the little bell chiming behind her. As she strode away without a backward glance, she thought she heard the rich, deep sound of his laughter.

"What position would that be, Ophelia?" Mr Lansdowne's somewhat cheeky grin took on a decided lascivious nature as he stressed the word. Ophelia found herself flustered, an unusual state for her. She knew how to fend off bastards like this one. But as he leered at her she could feel herself blushing. He was attractive, no doubt, and the deep timbre of his voice thrilled her in a secret way, but she needed this job. No time to let sex interfere with her daily bread. That's the type of rubbish that had landed her here without a reference.

"The bookkeeper position, Mr Lansdowne. I'd like to see the owner, please."

"You're seeing the owner, Ophelia." He stretched his hand out and Ophelia shook it, still somewhat dazed by her reaction to him. He held her small hand firmly in his and pressed it with his free hand. "I'm afraid that position has been filled."

Ophelia's heart dropped. Truly this had been the last decent job in the city. Trying to keep the desperation out of her voice, she replied somewhat airily, "Oh, pity. Well Mr Lansdowne, sorry to have taken your time." She turned to leave but he did not release her hand.

"Stay." He spoke the word not as an entreaty but as a command and Ophelia felt another thrill run up her spine. She stopped moving away from him and stood still. "Excellent," he murmured. "As I said, that position has been filled. However, I have another position available that you might do for quite nicely." He let her hand drop and she pulled both hands behind her back, chest out, chin up as if awaiting military inspection. Ophelia gasped aloud as she realised she'd presented herself to this man Daniel, a stranger, as if she were a slave and he her master. Blushing furiously for the second time in less than a quarter hour, Ophelia pulled her hat from her pocket and pulled it on. Not daring to meet his eyes, she murmured a goodbye and nearly ran out the door, the little bell chiming behind her. As she strode away without a backward glance, she thought she heard the rich, deep sound of his laughter.