Free Legend Of The Highland Dragon by Isabel Cooper Page B

and those were either servants or had different loyalties as well. Miss Seymour wasn’t a real partner , of course, he reminded himself, but he’d take what moments he could.
    “Any news?” she asked.
    “A little. The Americans had a gentleman resembling Ward in custody a few years ago. In Boston, it was. There was a young man bringing accusations. Breaking and entering, he said, but it never came to anything, and they released the man. It might not have been Ward. Though it did take place in…esoteric circles. Spiritualism and that. Rather a troublesome sect, too, from what little I could find.”
    “What happened to him then?”
    “We’ll be trying to find that out. Among other things. If he’s in London now and still interested in magic, I’ve a few places I can go with that.”
    Miss Seymour nodded slowly. At her side, her long, graceful fingers played with the plain material of her dress. “This might take a while, then,” she said.
    “That it might,” said Stephen. Was the girl that impatient to be gone? Not that he wanted her as a visitor, but God knew he’d treated her well enough. “I told you as much.”
    “You did,” she said almost absently, and then went on in a much firmer voice. “When do you go see Professor Carter?”
    “Tomorrow, most likely.” The professor had probably been right about his danger, or lack thereof, now that he had the bracelet. All the same, Stephen wanted to keep checking since Carter wouldn’t be able to sense something like the mist.
    “All right,” said Miss Seymour. “I’ll go with you.”
    “You’ll be doing no such thing,” Stephen said immediately.
    “And why not? I’ll be with you. Then I’ll be with the professor and you. Then I’ll be with you again.” Miss Seymour snapped her hands outward, illustrating a void between them. “There’s no time when I can say anything to anyone, is there? Besides, I’ll have to give him letters to send to my family, won’t I? Unless you want me receiving my mail here.”
    “You want to send letters ,” said Stephen. He remembered and cursed the existence of the penny post.
    “Of course I do. I can’t go home on Sundays now, can I? And I’m not likely to let my family think I’ve died or—been kidnapped.” Miss Seymour gave an ironic little chuckle. “Truth aside.”
    “I didn’t kidnap you.” Stephen almost growled the words, though he hadn’t intended to. He could feel his control slipping: not of his shape, not precisely, but of this shape’s reactions and of the situation as a whole. “If you hadn’t noticed, we’re in a bit of danger—”
    “And writing to my family, or seeing the professor, isn’t going to make Ward any more of a threat to you than he already is. People already know I’m here. What are you worried will happen?”
    “I don’t know. I can’t know. And if you keep springing your own plans on me—”
    “Oh, yes.” Miss Seymour tossed her head back, and Stephen followed the slim, proud arch of her neck with his eyes even as he heard her sneering at him. “God forbid your captive have plans. Or ties to other people. Or anything that doesn’t go your exact way.”
    A few steps forward let Stephen glare down at her, a look that had gotten him through many a conversation in the past. “I’ve been very generous wi’ you so far, Miss Seymour. I’m prepared to continue that course of action, up to a point, but I’m a man of limited patience. Must you always be arguing with me?”
    Her eyes flashed cobalt fire. “When you’re being unreasonable, yes!”
    “Unreasonable, is it?” The words came from deep within his chest, as deep as the impulses he stopped trying to resist. Reaching out, he wrapped an arm around Miss Seymour’s waist, then pulled her forward. Now her slender form was a hair’s breadth away from him, and the anger on her face was rapidly changing to surprise. “Lass, you don’t know what unreasonable is.”
    Miss Seymour’s mouth opened again.