I’m still not certain when Lord MacAlasdair will conclude his business. I do have every hope that it will be resolved soon. I look forward to seeing you again, and to—
To what?
Resuming her old life was the obvious answer. Over the last few weeks, she’d become certain that Professor Carterwouldtake her back, no matter how tarnished her reputation grew, and Mina thought she’d even been careful enough to avoid much scandal. She would go back to typing his notes, living in her boardinghouse and going home for Sunday dinners, walking in the park on fair days and visiting museums when it rained. Now she’d have at least a hundred pounds more in her pocket, and that would let her sleep very soundly indeed, shield that it was against illness or mishap.
It should have been plenty. She’d had a piece of extraordinary luck. It would give her a good foundation to go forward, and Minadidfeel happy when she thought of it—or at least mostly happy.
The problem was that she knew more now. Through chance, she’d found out about aspects of the world that most people would never have guessed, or even believed if they’d heard. Going back to being a secretary now, having seen dragons and cast spells, would probably be as unsatisfying as staying home and marrying had seemed when she’d been fifteen and reading about expeditions to the Nile.
Perhaps Professor Carter would let her take more of a hand with his research. Or maybe she’d join one of the occult societies like the Emerald Star. Stephen could probably sponsor her, if she asked. Those were brighter prospects, but even thinking of them didn’t go all the way toward lightening Mina’s spirits.
When the library door opened, she looked up, glad of the interruption.
“I didn’t mean to intrude,” said Stephen, with an awkward smile. “I was looking for Baldwin or one of the maids.”
“There are bells, aren’t there?”
“It wasn’t important enough to summon anyone, not with the house so short-handed. I’d wanted to find out if Colin was awake yet, is all.”
Mina laughed. “I’m afraid you wouldn’t like the answer. I’ve got no way of knowing for sure, of course,” she added, “but given the last day or two, if I were a betting woman—”
“Aye, I’d thought as much myself,” Stephen said. “And I’ve several centuries behind my guess.”
“I guess he’s a little old for you to have someone go in with a sponge.”
“A sponge?”
“You soak it in cold water, and then you wring it out over the vic—sleeping person,” Mina explained and then giggled at Stephen’s grimace. “I’m surprised you hadn’t heard of it. It’s a handy trick when you’ve got brothers.”
“For waking them up, do you mean, or for some sort of sisterly vengeance?”
“Well, either,” Mina said as a few memories came back to her. “Though I was never much for pranks myself. That was Alice, and George, when he was younger.”
“You don’t seem like the sort to take that meekly,” Stephen said.
“I wasn’t. I had a good memory, and I was better at saving my pocket money. So I’d buy sweets and eat them in front of the other two when they made me angry. I was,” Mina added, on further reflection, “a horribly smug sort of little girl. Probably deserved at least some of what I got, although I still think cutting off my braids was going too far, and so did Mum.”
“I cut Judith’s hair off once,” Stephen admitted. “But then, she’d asked me to. It was too hot in summer, she said. That didn’t save me from my mother, though.” He winced.
“Strict sort of woman, was she?”
“Fierce, I’d say. But she had to be, I’d think, to live among the rest of us and have begun as a mortal.”
“Begun?” Mina asked, pretending that her heart hadn’t speeded up.
Stephen hesitated a moment, standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. Then he shrugged, stepped in, and closed the door behind him. “It changes wi’ the first child,” he said and looked toward the window. “It’s to do with shared blood, perhaps. A mortal either gains longer life or…well, or doesna’ survive, generally. The child does sometimes, even if she dies. A cousin of mine did.”
“Brave women,” Mina said, after swallowing past a sudden thickness in her throat. She wasn’t sure what else to think. She wasn’t sure it was her business to think anything about that particular subject. She dropped her gaze from Stephen’s face, down to the letter she’d been writing, and when she looked up again, she couldn’t meet his eyes. “Though life was more dangerous back then for everyone, I’d think.”
“In many ways, aye,” he said. “I think back sometimes—even to what I can remember, which isn’t nearly so far—and I wonder at how we ever managed.” A quick smile lightened his face. “But then, perhaps every man thinks so about his youth.”
Mina laughed, taking the chance to change topics away from birth and death. “I tend to wonder how I survived, but that’s mostly because of Alice and George. And me,” she admitted, thinking back. “Especially when I was old enough to get intorealtrouble.”
“You? I can’t imagine it,” said Stephen.
“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, my lord,” Mina said and sniffed, hiding a smile.
“It wasn’t all sarcasm,” he said. “I consider myself a fair man, after all, and so I’m bound to admit that I’ve only seen you get yourself in trouble the once. And,” he added, taking one hand out of his pocket and stroking his chin slowly, “that was on someone else’s behalf. Rather admirable, in fact.”
