Free Named of the Dragon by Susanna Kearsley Page B

too." Turning sharply on my heel, I set my back to him and carried on the way that I'd been heading, up the path. Bloody writers, I cursed silently. And I'd thought Bridget was difficult...
    I felt his gaze burning a hole in my shoulder blades, and his voice followed after me, clipped and unfriendly. "You're a fool to go that way. The coast path's no place for a woman alone."
    He whistled for the dog again, and I heard the crackle of bramble and twigs as he started away, and unable to help it I stopped and spun round.
    "As an exit line, that lacks a certain logic, don't you think?"
    He paused. "What?"
    "Well, you can't say I shouldn't be out here alone and then leave me alone. That just doesn't make sense," I told him, drawing satisfaction from his tightly exhaled breath. "I'd have expected better dialogue from someone with your talent."
    He slowly turned to study me, and I saw his eyes harden; grow wary. "And what the devil would you know of my talent?"
    "Quite a lot, as it happens. I was looking forward to meeting you, but—"
    "Christ," he broke in, ill-tempered, "what rag is it this time? You won't bloody listen, the lot of you, will you? You're wasting my time and your own, coming here. I don't give interviews."
    "Very wise of you," I said. "One reads enough unpleasant things, these days."
    And then, because I always liked to have the last word in an argument, I wheeled again and walked away along the muddy path, hoping that my rigid back looked properly disdainful.
    *-*-*-*-*
    "Well, of course you didn't like him." Bridget buttered her toast with the superior air of a fictional detective who'd outwitted Scotland Yard. "It's the name thing, you know."
    I lowered my coffee cup, frowning. "What name thing?"
    "Well, think now. What's your name?"
    "Lyn."
    "Your full name."
    "Lynette."
    "And he's Gareth." She reached for the marmalade, smugly. "Arthurian legend, remember? Lynette went to Camelot to find a brave knight who could rescue her sister, only instead of getting Launcelot she ended up with Gareth."
    "Oh right," I said, as memory stirred. "She gave him proper hell, as I recall."
    ' 'Mm. They hated each other. So you see, you can hardly expect to get on with my Gareth."
    "Because of the name thing."
    "Exactly."
    "And was there anyone who did get on with Gareth, in the legend?"
    "Lynette's sister," said Bridget. "The one he went to rescue. They fell madly in love with each other."
    "Ah, well, there you are, then. I don't have a sister."
    "Neither do I, which means that you and I are sort of sisters by default, doesn't it? So Gareth has to fall in love with me."
    I knew better than to try to sort that one through before I'd had my second cup of coffee. "I suppose that there's some planet, somewhere," I told her, "where all of your theories make sense." Yawning, I stretched and looked around the sunlit kitchen. ' 'Are we the only ones up?''
    "Well, I haven't a clue about Christopher, but James was still snoring when I came downstairs. He's a night owl, is James. I don't know that I've ever seen him mobile before noon."
    "That does sound appealing."
    "What?"
    "Sleeping till noon."
    Bridget smiled. "Don't get any ideas. You're coming with me, on a top secret mission." Lifting the lid of the teapot, she checked the colour of its contents before pouring her first cup. "I've already talked to Owen, and he said he'd be happy to help us."
    Owen, I remembered, was the man taking care of the sheep and the cows and the farm. I looked at her, faintly suspicious. "To help us do what?"
    "You'll see."
    "Bridget—"
    "It's nothing illegal," she promised. "You needn't look so disapproving. Owen's much too honest to commit to something truly underhand."
    "Mm," I said, reserving judgement.
    "You'll like Owen. He drives a van," she added, as though that were somehow relevant.
    I'd known Bridget long enough to learn her thoughts were rarely random. "And do we need a van," I asked, "for this secret mission of yours?"
    "You'll see." Checking her