Page 22 of The Duke and Lady Scandal
Fitz stepped forward and darted his gaze around at the various shops lining the street. “I can say I’m a new employee at one of these shops, eager to warm my cold hands around a cuppa.”
When Fitz started across the street, Ben tapped his arm to hold him back.
“Let me have a look first.” As he spoke the words, he kept his gaze locked on Miss Prince, who still arranged items and then reached out to dust a few. The lady remained in near constant motion, just as she had the morning before. He’dexpected she’d soon step back farther into the shop’s interior and there’d be less chance of her spotting him.
“What are you waiting for, Duke?”
“The right moment.” Ben wasn’t certain why tension tightened his gut at the thought of catching Miss Prince’s notice. Perhaps because the woman lingered too stubbornly in his thoughts already, and she was the sort of distraction he couldn’t afford.
He felt Fitz’s gaze on him and sensed the man’s impatience, and Miss Prince had finally retreated so far into the shop that he couldn’t see her through the glass.
This delaying to avoid her was ridiculous.
“Wait here until I return,” he told Fitz and then strode toward Hawlston’s, keeping his focus on the coffeehouse’s front door.
Inside, dense, warm coffee-scented air enveloped him and he took in the groupings of men gathered around tables. A few seemed like they might be tall in stature, though it was hard to tell when a man was hunched over a cup. None wore the dark glasses Miss Prince had mentioned. Aside from lining up the lot of them along the wall, he couldn’t get a good look at most of the men’s faces.
Ben entered the queue waiting to order items from the bakery case, and he watched as the proprietress’s expression changed when she recognized a customer and when she did not.
“Good afternoon, sir.” The lady was sharp-eyed, and he received the same inspection she’d subjected a few other customers to.
“May I speak to you a moment, madam? In private.”
There were others queueing behind him, and Ben didn’t wish to betray his position to anyone who might overhear the questions he intended to ask.
The woman’s brows arched high, and he could see her debating, but after a moment she nodded and called to another young woman to take her place at the counter.
“This way, sir.” The lady led him to a nook just inside the door of the coffeehouse’s kitchen. Ben suspected it wasthenook that Miss Prince had described and then illustrated in diorama form on his desk.
“This can’t take long. I’ve customers to see to. I’m Mrs. Cline and I manage Hawlston’s. Is there a problem, sir?”
“I have no complaints about the shop, Mrs. Cline. My name is Drake,” he told her, omitting his official position. He’d handled none of this as an official inquiry thus far and didn’t intend to until he knew a real threat existed. “I’m looking for a man who may frequent this coffeehouse.”
The proprietress reached up and fussed with the collar of her high-necked gown. “I can’t recall everyone who walks through the front door. We’re right busy most days.”
“Understood. But this man is distinctive. Quite tall and he wears dark glasses.”
She frowned and shook her head slowly. “I can’t say I know anyone with dark glasses, though we have tall patrons on occasion. Yourself included, Mr. Drake.”
“May I leave my card?” He pulled one of his personal calling cards from his pocket that listed his home address. “If you see such a man, could you send word to me?”
With a tentative expression, she reached for the card he’d extended. She examined the rectangle of paper he’d given her, and she flicked her gaze up to him with one brow raised.
She pitched her voice low. “Has this gentleman done something dreadful?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” Drake assured her, “but I’d like to speak to him if he happens to show up again.”
“Very well.”
“Thank you.”
He followed her back out into the main seating area of the coffeehouse, casting his gaze around to ensure the man hadn’t entered while they talked. But the collection of patrons looked much the same as when he’d walked in.
“Would you care for a coffee or anything from the case while you’re here, Mr. Drake?”
He was a tea man through and through and had never yearned for a cup of coffee in his life. But he’d asked the woman for a favor a moment after entering her shop. The least he could do was purchase a cup of her brew.
Fitz still lingered near the shop across the street,darting curious glances at the coffeehouse. He’d make this quick, but it was worth taking the time to build a bit of rapport with Mrs. Cline.
