She let out a sheepish laugh. “I forgot I’m supposed to be a man.”
“I did too. I nearly offered you my arm.” He was disappointed they had no reason to touch. “Be sure and stay close to me. It will be crowded.”
At her nod, they walked to Paternoster Row. “My goodness, this is very busy!” Her gaze scanned the throng of people and the vehicles clogging the street.
They moved much more slowly than their last visit, stopping to peruse magazines and navigating the crowd. As they reached the front of a bookseller’s shop, a child darted from the establishment followed by the shopkeeper, who yelled, “Stop! Thief!”
Rafe moved without thinking, slipping between people and heading the child off before he could get away through the thick crowd. He grabbed the child by the coat. His hat fell off, and dark strands of hair tumbled free past his shoulders. He tried to pull himself out of the coat in order to escape, but Rafe knew that trick well. Sweeping his arm around the child, Rafe scooped him—her?—up and carried him back toward the bookshop.
Hell, Anne. Rafe looked over the heads of those around him and sighted her immediately. She’d made her way toward him but hadn’t quite gotten there. Her eyes widened as she saw he carried the child.
Rafe inclined his head toward the bookshop, and Anne nodded in response. Damn. He didn’t really want her to witness this, but he couldn’t leave her alone outside, even if she was disguised as a man.
“Put me down!” Definitely a girl. She kicked at Rafe’s legs and hit him in the back.
“Don’t run. And don’t steal from me.” He set her down but didn’t release her. “Agreed?”
She wasn’t as much of a child as he’d thought, just small. He estimated she was maybe fifteen.
She glared at him, her dark eyes spitting fire, and dropped the book she was clutching to the floor. “I didn’t really want it anyway.”
“Yes, you did, and I’m going to let you take it, but only after you tell me why you want it and what you plan to do with it.”
The fire in her eyes sputtered, and her lips parted. She snapped them closed and turned her head toward the shopkeeper. John, a tall, thin man in his late fifties with an austere face, stood to Rafe’s left and just behind him. Despite his forbidding appearance, he was one of the kindest people Rafe knew.
The girl looked back to Rafe. “I like to read.”
“Good. Don’t stop. Where do you live?”
She raised her chin and glowered at him. That was the only answer he was going to get, and he understood why. If someone knew where she lived, they could attack her. It was the same reason she dressed herself to look like a boy. This is how Selina would have been forced to live if Rafe hadn’t sent her away to school.
“Do you have work?” Rafe asked.
She hesitated but shook her head. He also understood what that meant—she stole to survive.
“But the book was for you, not to sell for money?”
She nodded, then shot a glance toward Anne, who’d entered the shop and stood a few feet away, effectively blocking the door.
Rafe let go of the girl. “You’re going to come here every morning except Sunday and sweep the shop. You’ll also do whatever tasks Mr. Entwhistle directs you to do.” He looked at John, who didn’t reflect even a glimmer of surprise. Rafe then fixed an expectant stare on her. “Agreed?”
“What’s wrong with your eye?” she asked, staring at the orange spot.
“It’s how I find children like you. You need to stop stealing. You’re going to get caught.”
She looked away, pressing her lips together. She knew he was right. He could smell the fear beneath her bravado.
Rafe knew how to win her over completely. “If you need a room, you can have one upstairs.” John lived over the shop, but on the uppermost floor, there were a handful of rooms where other young people—mostly boys—had stayed for a time. Rafe had helped all of them find employment.
Rafe picked up the book she’d taken. It was a collection of Greek mythology stories. “Do you like Greek history and culture?”
She shrugged.
“After you read it, tell Mr. Entwhistle what you think.” He handed her the book. “Do we have a deal?”
“You’re just giving me the book?” She stared at him dubiously.
“I trust you’ll be back—for the job, if not the room. I hope you’ll take both.”
She clutched the book to her chest and stared at him a moment longer before turning and nearly colliding with Anne. “You’re a woman.”
Anne’s gaze met Rafe’s briefly before she smiled at the girl. “Yes. What’s your name? Seems like your future employer should know it.”
“I haven’t decided if I’m taking the job.”
“Oh, you must. I can highly recommend his character,” Anne said, flicking a glance toward Rafe that made his breath catch. “You won’t regret it, I promise. I’m Anne, by the way.”
“I’m Annie,” she said shyly. While Rafe couldn’t see her face, he could hear her tone, and he detected the slight curl of her shoulders.
Anne laughed softly. “Then we were destined to meet. You must take this offer of employment and lodging.”
“Are you his wife?” she asked, prompting Rafe to freeze.
“Er, no.” Anne’s gaze found his again, but only briefly. “Just a friend.”
“All right, I’ll take the job. Will you come back to visit?” Annie asked.
“Definitely. I’ll bring you something cheerful for your room upstairs. If you don’t mind.”
Annie shook her head. “I don’t.”
“It’s settled, then.” Anne looked toward the book in Annie’s arms. “I will also read that book so we may discuss it. Would you like that?”
“I would. Thank you.” Annie turned her head to look at Rafe. “Thank you too.”
“See you in the morning,” John called with a wave. “Unless you come back later. I’ll have the room ready if you do.”
Annie nodded before departing the shop far more sedately than when she’d run out the first time.
Anne came toward Rafe, her eyes softening and her lips curling into a lovely smile. “You are much more than a bodyguard. You are a hero, despite what you think. You own this shop?”
“I do. You were wonderful with her.”
“She needs kindness as much as anyone. I was merely taking your lead.” She looked past him at John. “Is he always like this?”
Rafe pivoted so he could see them both.
John gave her a small smile. “Yes.”
“How wonderful,” she murmured. “I should have realized you owned a shop here, given how much you like the street. And books. How long have you owned this shop?”
Once again, they were venturing too close to things he didn’t want to share. Except, he almost wanted to. “Several years.”
“Earls don’t typically own shops.” She clapped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up.”
Rafe shot a look toward John, whose brow creased with confusion. He’d have to explain everything to the shopkeeper. There were so many people he needed to explain this to.