Perhaps the thought of safety made her a bit more cautious because her gaze fell on a man at the corner near The Greedy Vicar. He was white and well-dressed, and he seemed to be watching her. Raeni’s entire body went rigid with fear. How long had he been watching her? Had he followed her? Had he been following her? She risked glancing at him again, and now his attention seemed directed at Bond Street Coffee & Tobacco.
She had the overwhelming urge to run and keep running. She’d let her guard down and now one of her father’s slavers had found her. He’d grab her, stuff her on a ship, and take her back.
And she would die before going back.
She took a step back and then another. She had to find somewhere else to hide. London had seemed so large and crowded. She’d thought it would be impossible for anyone to find her, even if she wanted to be found. But somehow he’d managed it. She took another step back. Her carelessness had led him right to her place of employment and—
She stepped into a hard, unyielding shape she thought was the stone of the building behind her until she realized stone would not have been so warm or smelled so lovely. Raeni spun around and looked into the expressive eyes of Mr. Gaines. With a shocked gasp, she jumped back and almost toppled over. Mr. Gaines caught her arm and countered her backward momentum by pulling her toward him. She landed right where she had moments ago longed to be—in his arms.
Her gaze met his for a long moment, their mouths inches apart. She felt the hand on the small of her back tighten just a fraction and watched as Mr. Gaines’s attention drifted down to her lips. He licked his own lips before taking a breath and stepping back from her. “Miss Sawyer, I apologize for startling you.” His voice was deep and steady, while her own throat had closed up and she could barely take a breath.
“It’s my fault, sir,” she said breathlessly. “I did not see you there.”
“What were you backing away from?” he asked, his gaze sweeping the street. Her own gaze flew to the man she’d seen outside The Greedy Vicar, but to her relief he was no longer there.
“I...” She tried to think of some plausible explanation. She could not tell him the truth—that he was harboring a fugitive. He had already overlooked so many of her failings. She shuddered, thinking what would happen if her father’s man really had found her. But now that the man in question was no longer in sight, she realized she had probably overreacted. She had only been in London a fortnight. Even if her father had sent men after her the day he realized she was gone, it would have taken time to secure passage on a ship, to cross the ocean, and to determine she’d stayed in London when her brothers had gone to the countryside to study at the school where places had been secured for them. The man she’d seen could not have been her father’s.
“You’re cold,” Mr. Gaines said, misinterpreting her shudder. “Come inside and have some coffee to warm up.”
“I don’t want to be any trouble.” Raeni couldn’t help but think Mrs. Price would be none too pleased to see her in the coffee room again.
“I think it’s too late for that, Miss Sawyer,” he said. But he said it with a smile, and she could not help but smile in return. He held out an arm and she took it, allowing him to escort her across the street. Bond Street Coffee & Tobacco had two doors leading inside. One was to the shop, which sold coffee beans and tobacco from all over the world. The other was the door where she had stood the day before, welcoming patrons into the coffee room. The two sections of the establishment were divided by a low wall that did not run the length of the ground floor but gave each section some semblance of separateness.
Mr. Gaines withdrew a key from his pocket and put it in the lock for the coffee room door. When he had the door open, he held it for her, allowing her to step inside first. The room was still shadowed as the sconces hadn’t yet been lit, and the dark scent of roasting coffee wrapped around her, drawing her in. She drew in a breath, inhaling the rich aroma and feeling the last of her sleepiness fade away.
“It’s an intoxicating scent, is it not?”
She turned to see Mr. Gaines smiling at her.
“I would have thought you had tired of it by now.”
“I don’t think any man can ever tire of the scent of newly roasted coffee. Why don’t I fetch us two cups?”
Appalled, Raeni shook her head. “I should go upstairs and begin filing. I made some progress yesterday.”
“I saw that, and I was pleased. But there is still almost an hour before the other workers arrive. Cook always brews a pot of coffee for me to enjoy when I arrive, and there’s plenty to share.”
“But sir—"
“I insist, Miss Sawyer. Now sit down. I will return in a moment.”
She looked at the table and chairs he’d indicated. “Surely I should be the one to fetch the tray and serve,” she said.
“I have seen your skills at serving, Miss Sawyer. Forgive me if I prefer to do it myself.”
She might have felt chastised if he hadn’t smiled and winked when he said it. And so she sat on the edge of one of the chairs and looked out the front window. Every few minutes a servant from one of the wealthy houses in Mayfair would pass by, basket full of bread or fruit or whatever they’d been sent to collect. Their steps would slow as they passed the shop and she could all but hear them inhale deeply.
Mr. Gaines returned, balancing a tray easily on one arm, and deposited an array of cups and plates and saucers before her. He did it with an easy grace, and she gave him a questioning look. “Surely you didn’t think I started out as the master of a shop,” he said. “I began as a server and worked my way up, saving and scraping until, with a little luck, I was able to rent my own space.”
“I doubt very much it had anything to do with luck,” she said, her eyes widening at the assortment of dishes placed before her. He’d brought a sampling of most of the offerings from the kitchen. She would try not to salivate while he ate his breakfast.
She lifted the cup set before her, grateful for the coffee to fortify her this morning and ignoring the gnawing in her belly.
“Have you tried the cinnamon cake?” Mr. Gaines asked, lifting his own cup of coffee and breathing the scent in before sipping it.
“No, sir, but I would not dream of eating your morning meal.”
“Oh, I’ve already dined, Miss Sawyer. This is for you.”
Her gaze snapped to his, and he held out a hand in a gesture for her to go ahead. When she hesitated, he said, “And do not tell me you have already supped. I will not believe it.”
“But, sir, you cannot keep feeding me.”
“Someone must, and it appears that privilege falls to me. Besides, I cannot have my new clerk fainting in the middle of filing.”
Raeni felt her cheeks heat. “I do apologize for that, Mr. Gaines. I think I moved too quickly.”
“No need to apologize—unless you do not intend to eat any of this food. Then I will be most put out.”
Too hungry to argue further, Raeni ate until her belly ached. Mr. Gaines was quiet, seeming content to merely sip his coffee in silence and watch her dine. He also watched the passersby and after one group paused to peer inside before moving on, he set his cup on the table. “I must confess I was rather unprepared for the number of patrons to the coffee room since we’ve opened. I instructed Mr. Miller to hire more servers and brought two of my waiters from Wapping until we can hire Londoners.”