Jesamiah lifted the lantern higher, caught sight of his woman a few yards ahead. “What the fok are you doing in the dark by the river? What if you’d fallen, hurt yourself?”“That is not likely, luvver, I can see perfectly where I set my feet.”“Without a lantern?” He was standing before her now, perversely cross because he had been concerned and had no need to be. And because he had unjustly shouted at Joe Meadows a few moments ago for letting her come along here on her own. It had not helped that Meadows had shouted back, or that Jesamiah knew full well he had not been in the right.“I need no lantern, Jesamiah. I appreciate your anxiety but it is unwarranted.”“You were with someone. Who was it?”“I have been about business this night.”Belligerently he studied her face in the flickering, yellow light, remembered belatedly what night it was and what she had probably meant. He looked sharply around, could see no phantom ghosts prowling in the darkness.Her witchcraft worried him, not because he was afraid of it, although there was an element of that this particular night.
