It came with something else. One small light. Just enough illumination for Gideon to peer through the doorway and see the woman standing at the opposite end.
She wasn’t young. Disappointing. But she was soft in all the right places, and with the perfume was the scent of a kitchen, of sugar and flour and spices that always reminded him of a baker he’d eaten in Boston. In her short fingers, she held a candlestick, which cast dancing orange shadows across her lined face.
“You found light.” He held his hands up in surrender when the sound of his voice made her jerk, smiling as he ventured a step inside. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Gideon. You scared me.”
She knew him. He didn’t let the fact that he didn’t recognize her register on his face as he took another step closer. It wasn’t really a surprise that his reputation preceded him, though the fact that she just stood there as he approached was interesting.
“Did you get separated from the others?”