The Watchmaker's Daughter (Glass and Steele #1)(61)

It was a mere forty minute walk back to Park Street, but a sudden burst of rain forced me to make an unscheduled stop beneath the butcher's awning at the Circus end of Oxford Street. I waited with several shoppers who'd also been caught without umbrellas, much to the butcher's annoyance. He huffed and puffed in the doorway but fortunately didn't force anyone to move on.

"Miss Steele?" The voice behind me was familiar, yet I couldn't quite place it.

I turned, and drew in a sharp breath. "Mr. Dorchester! What a coincidence." The fellow from the gambling house looked fairer in daylight; his eyes bluer. They turned his rather ordinary face into something remarkable. I couldn't look away.

He smiled and doffed his hat. "It certainly is. I see you've been caught without an umbrella."

"I have, and the rain looks set in for the day."

"Then allow me." He handed me his folded umbrella.

"No, I couldn't possibly take it."

"Then may I walk you home and we can share it? It's large enough."

It wasn't far to Park Street. Besides, Mr. Dorchester was an amiable fellow and having some company might take my mind off the guild meeting.

"Thank you, I accept, as long as Park Street isn't out of your way."

"Not at all. I was on my way home anyway."

"Is that nearby?"

"This side of Piccadilly Street, so not far."

We stepped out of the milling crowd, and he put up his umbrella. Our arms touched as we walked so that neither of us got too wet.

"I must say, I'm glad to see you," he said as we passed shoppers hurrying to get out of the rain. "I was worried about you."

"Oh, thank you, but we were fine." Thanks largely to my aim.

"Nevertheless, I didn't like leaving you there, but Mr. Unger assured me you wouldn't come to harm. If he hadn't promised, I would have insisted on staying."

I didn't tell him that Mr. Unger and the other gamblers hadn't been any assistance at all when we'd been attacked. The incident was in the past, and I saw no reason to let Mr. Dorchester feel terrible for leaving us there.

"Did your friend win after I left?"

"She lost quite badly."

"That's a shame. It doesn't look like a game for the faint of heart. All that bluffing…I'm not sure I have the right countenance for it."

"And what countenance do you think is required of a good poker player?"

"The ability to lie with a straight face."

I laughed. "I quite agree. It's not a game for me. My father used to tell me that my thoughts were written all over my face."

"Your father is a wise fellow."

I didn't tell him my father should be mentioned in the past tense. I was still very aware that Mr. Dorchester was a man and I a single woman alone. Allowing him to think there was no man to care for me might give him ideas similar to those the horrible lords in the gambling house had. Although I couldn't imagine Mr. Dorchester being like them, it never hurt to be cautious.

We maneuvered around a large puddle as we crossed New Bond Street then fell into step once again. Our pace and stride matched, but I couldn't tell if that was a deliberate effort on his part.

"Tell me about your factory, Mr. Dorchester."

He frowned. "You cannot possibly be interested in that."

"I'm sure it's very interesting."

"Thank you, but I won't bore you with the details. Tell me about yourself."

I provided him with the briefest summary, once again avoiding mentioning my father's death. "I'm staying with Willie and her friends, newly arrived from America," I told him. "But only until they leave on Tuesday."

"How does a watchmaker's daughter make friends from so far afield?"

"We met through an acquaintance." Eddie could be considered an acquaintance of both Mr. Glass's and mine, so it wasn't a lie.

We talked the entire way back to Park Street, mostly about the sights he'd seen since arriving in London a few days before. He'd combined a sightseeing journey with a visit to his lawyer's office, but was only in the city for a few more days. I told him which coffee shops had the best coffee, and where he could find the best silks as gifts for his mother and sister back home. That steered us onto the subject of his family. Unlike me, he was quite keen to talk about them. His eyes lit up even more as he did so. By the time we reached Park Street, I was regretting parting company with him.

"This is me," I said, stopping at the steps of number sixteen. I smiled up at him. "Thank you for walking with me. It was very kind of you to offer me refuge beneath your umbrella."

He chuckled softly. "The pleasure was all mine." He glanced past me to the door. "I am glad you emerged safely from that ruckus last night, Miss Steele. I was terribly worried about you after I left, asking myself if I'd done the right thing in leaving you there."

Something he said sparked a memory, but I couldn't place what it was. Perhaps it was merely the horrid memory of the night before.

"May I be so bold as to ask you something?" he said.

"Of course." My heart skipped, but I wasn't sure why. If Mr. Dorchester asked to see me again, I wasn't sure what I'd do. Did I want to see him? Did I want to get to know him further? I supposed it couldn't hurt.