(eng) Kady Cross - Steampunk Chronicles 01 by The Girl in the Steel Corset

Author:The Girl in the Steel Corset [Corset, The Girl in the Steel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

By the time her vision cleared, Finley was surrounded by a sea of concerned faces—the most worried of which belonged to Jasper. Jack Dandy, she noticed, was also in the ring, but didn’t hover like the others. He stood near the ropes, looking grim.

“Are you all right?” Griffin asked, frowning down at her.

Finley nodded. “Except that I might die of embarrassment.” To be honest, however, at that moment she felt as though she was actually part of their group—as though their worry made her one of them.

His scowl turned to a smile. “I didn’t know you and Jasper were sparring. I should have waited or announced myself before barging in.”

She turned her gaze to Jasper. “I should have known better than to take my eye off you.” And then, “I’d like to get up now.”

Griffin offered her his hand as the others drew back. They stood clustered together, apart from their dark guest. It was Dandy who had Finley’s attention as she stood.

“Mr. Dandy,” she said. “Whatever are you doing here?”

“Luvly to see you again, Miss Jayne,” the dark, lanky fellow replied in his usual laconic manner. “Apologies for interruptin’ your sport, but I wanted to inquire as to your health after last night.”

All eyes turned to her, turning her cheeks hot. “I am quite well, thank you. I’m terribly sorry for making a spectacle.”

He shrugged. “I likes a bit of spectacle m’self.” He held her gaze a moment longer than was proper before turning to Griffin. “And I wanted to bring His Grace a gift.”

All attention turned from Finley to Griffin, for which Finley was greatly relieved.

“Mr. Dandy informs me that he had a delivery at his Whitechapel address late last night.” Griffin cast a brief glance at his guest. “Someone deposited the missing wax likeness of Queen Victoria on his doorstep.”

“Poor thing was in her drawers,” Dandy added. “I reckon it would have caused quite the stir this mornin’ had I not realized I’d left somefink at the property and returned to fetch it.”

“There was a note attached to the figure,” Griffin told them, opening a folded piece of expensive-looking parchment. “It says: ‘A thank you for ingeniously solving our mutual “problem.” Yours, F.J.’”

Now everyone stared at Finley. She would have done the same were it possible. Her jaw dropped. “You think I stole the queen from Madame Tussaud’s and left her half-naked on Mr. Dandy’s step?” It was ludicrous—and just plausible enough that it made her fearful.

Griffin handed her the note. “It’s written on my personal stationery. See the watermark?”

Finley held the paper up to the light where she saw the image of the Greythorne crest engrained in the weave. “That’s not my writing,” she told him. It wasn’t, either.

“Maybe it’s the writing of your friend,” Sam suggested through clenched teeth.

Of course he would think the worst of her, Finley realized bleakly. He thought the worst of everyone.

“My handwriting stays the same regardless of who I am,” she defended, realizing how preposterous this must all seem to Jack Dandy—and ashamed that she cared what he thought of her.

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