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Lyssa's attitude to 19th century London had changed. It had to really when you got stuck in a place for a while. It helped the miserable old git she'd been introduced to had been so easily swayed. Most of them were. Didn't take a lot for her to start getting the control she wanted without them even realising it. So she liked it. She even liked the little part of London that seemed like hell they called Jacob's Island. Even if that idiot writer was trying to get rid of it. That was her's. Well, not so much openly, couldn't be done having a woman in charge of things. But it was her's.

She settled into the corner of the cripples and wrapped a hand around a bottle of gin protectively.

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She'd never expect a smile from him. The fact she'd made the scowl go away for a little while was an achievment in inself she could be proud of.

"Good." She nodded. Then looked a little closer trying to working out what he was thinking and if what he was expecting her to say.

"I'll settle for pestering you, unless you got something better you could suggest?" How she's tempted to say she wants the dog. But even she knows not to bother going there.