“But I don’t think you have much to worry about,” theprimuscontinued. “He knows I am watching him, so while he might allow some of his irritation to flare — as it did when he went in search of you at the hotel — I doubt very much that he will act on his annoyance.”
Seth wanted to believe that, and yet, knowing what he did about the way Samuel had shot Robert Rowe in the chest apparently without even blinking an eye, he wasn’t sure whether he and Devynn could quite dismiss him as a non-threat.
Probably the best thing to do would be to make sure they were in public spaces as much as possible. Like most bullies, Samuel probably wouldn’t want to do anything underhanded in front of an audience.
Seth hoped.
“I suppose we’ll have to take your word for it,” Devynn said. Her expression was almost neutral, as though she was doing her best not to reveal her true thoughts on the subject of Jeremiah’s brother Samuel.
Even if Seth could guess that Jeremiah knew well enough that she had very little use for Samuel Wilcox.
“You should,” Jeremiah said mildly. “I think the most important thing to do now — once we’ve eaten, of course — is to see what I can learn about both your gifts, and then try to determine how they became entangled and sent you here. From what you’ve told me, it doesn’t seem as if any of this would have been possible if the two of you hadn’t possessed that precise combination of talents.”
Most likely not. Seth wouldn’t pretend to be an expert on witch powers, except the ones he’d seen used by other members of his clan, but he didn’t think he’d ever heard of a situation before where two individuals somehow had their talents blend together to create an entirely unexpected outcome.
He only hoped Jeremiah would be able to get to the bottom of it.
“Just dumb luck?” Devynn said with a twist of her full lips, and Jeremiah sent her an amused glance.
“I suppose you could put it that way.”
However, he seemed to want to put the subject aside until they could approach it in depth, and instead talked about how they might want to talk to Mrs. Marshall sometime over the weekend, since she wouldn’t be in school teaching classes all day.
“It makes sense,” Jeremiah commented as he poured some more iced tea for himself. “She’s the person your mother spent the most time with, Devynn, and so I think people would wonder why you hadn’t approached her.”
“Do you think she’ll be able to give us any useful information?” Devynn asked, her tone dubious, and at once, Jeremiah shook his head.
“Of course not,” he said. “Your mother was good at keeping secrets. This is more to maintain the illusion of an investigation, nothing more. I’ll give you her address when we’re done here.”
By that time, lunch had mostly wound down, so he lifted the little bell and rang it, and just a moment later, Mrs. Barton appeared, then cleared away their dishes and inquired if they would like any dessert.
“I made an apple crumble,” she said, and Jeremiah smiled.
“Perhaps later. Right now, my guests and I have some matters we need to discuss in my office.”
“Of course, Mr. Wilcox,” she replied, and began to expertly stack the dirty dishes and cutlery.
While she was busy with that, Jeremiah rose from his chair, so Seth followed suit, then went over to Devynn to extend a hand and help her up from her chair. She shot him a grateful look — he imagined that getting up and down in such an elaborate gown couldn’t be easy — and squeezed his fingers ever so gently before she let go and followed their host down the hall.
Even that faint pressure against his flesh had been enough to awaken a flicker of desire, but Seth pushed it away, telling himself this was certainly not the time or the place. He couldn’t pretend any longer that he didn’t care for her…didn’t want her. There might have been one prickly corner of his soul that was still angered by her deception, and yet the far more rational parts of his mind knew she’d had very little option other than to misrepresent who she was.
It certainly seemed as if she was being honest with him now.
He trailed along behind her, doing his best not to step on the dragging hem of her wine-colored gown. Although the train of her wool challis dress wasn’t as elaborate as some he’d seen while they were out and about, he had to believe it was still bulky and clumsy to deal with, and he marveled a little at how quickly she’d become graceful at managing the thing.
Had her mother given her some advice on the subject?
He really had no idea, although he guessed — if the tight-fitting denim pants and gauzy sleeveless blouse she’d beenwearing when he first found her were any indication — that clothing in the twenty-first century was even less confining than the garments of his own era.
A fire flickered in the hearth as he entered the room. Devynn had paused a few feet inside the door but hadn’t made a move toward any of the chairs located there, as if unsure whether what Jeremiah planned to do next would require them to sit down.
He must have noticed, because he spread a hand toward the armless chairs placed in front of the desk and said, “You may sit if you like. We are not going to be doing any kind of physical experimentation. Not yet, at any rate.”
Seth wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. Devynn had confessed to him that she had no real control of her gift, and that was why she’d worked very hard to suppress it for most of the years after it had begun to develop.
Judging by the shadow of a frown that pulled at her smoothly arched brows, she’d been thinking about the same thing. However, she only inclined her head slightly before taking a seat in one of the chairs he’d indicated, and Seth decided he might as well do the same.
As much as he wanted to look over at her and try to gauge her reactions, he didn’t know whether letting Jeremiah Wilcox guess that he wasn’t completely thrilled with this sort of experimentation was the best idea.