The Girl in the Steel Corset - By Kady Cross Page 0,24
creature on that bloodred velvet. He reclined as though he hadn’t a care in the world, long legs splayed. His boots were as perfectly polished as Rich Boy’s. “We don’t get many girls like you in these parts.”
She snorted. “No, I bet you don’t.” There weren’t any other girls like her, were there?
Dandy just sat there, watching her as he took a swallow from his glass. Waiting.
“I’ve got a message for Felix August-Raynes,” she told him, finally getting down to business. “He’s one of yours, is he not?”
“One of my what?”
She waved a dismissive hand and took another sip of lovely absinthe. “Followers, lackeys. Disciples.”
Both dark brows went up as teeth flashed again. “Disciples. I likes that one, luv, ’onest to God I do.” The smile gave way to a vaguely mocking frown. “But I fink you’re a tad misguided in your information. I don’t have that kind of power over no one. I has associates and that’s it.”
Obviously it was a familiar spiel he gave to disengage himself from criminal activity committed by his cohorts. Finley rolled her eyes. “Do you know Lord Felix or not?”
He regarded her for a moment and made her wait while he decided to answer. He even went so far as to take another swallow from his glass. She enjoyed watching him as he did so. “I know ’im.”
Finley inched forward on the cushions until she was perched on the edge of her seat. She forced herself to meet his gaze and not look away, not even to blink. “Then perhaps you’d tell him that if he ever tries to force himself upon another girl, I’ll kill him.”
She’d wager Dandy didn’t often look as surprised as he did right at that moment. But it wasn’t for the reason she thought. Her threat of violence bounced right off him. “Did he try to force himself upon you?” His voice was oddly calm—the Cockney he affected absent.
“Yes.”
Watching his expression change was like watching thunderclouds suddenly blot out the entire sky. In that moment, she saw the truly dangerous side of Jack Dandy and it was as glorious as it was terrifying. This was why entitled brats like Lord Felix followed him; because they wanted a little bit of that danger for their own. Only, Dandy didn’t give his power away to anyone.
And then, as suddenly as it appeared, it was gone again. She might have thought she’d imagined it were it not so emblazed upon her memory.
“I’ll pass on the message if I see his lordship, rest assured.”
“Thank you.” She took another sip of absinthe. She liked it, but it wasn’t something she’d want to drink vast quantities of. “I’ll take my leave of you now.”
He didn’t try to talk her out of it. He simply raised his lanky frame from the cushions and followed her to the door.
“Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Dandy.” She wished she could be there the next time Lord Felix came ’round and heard her message. He’d probably suffer an apoplexy.
“My door is always open,” he replied, but his tone was lacking its previous joviality. “You know how to find it.”
Finley arched a brow at him, not liking at all this new seriousness. She had just gotten accustomed to his flippancy, and his tone was just a little too sincere for her to discredit. “That sounds an awful lot like an offer of friendship, sir.”
Jack Dandy reached out the long fingers of his right hand and gently touched her cheek. “Don’t mistake me, Treasure. I can offer you many things, but friendship ain’t one of them. Now, for once in your life, be a sensible girl and run away.”
And surprisingly, Finley did.
By the time his aunt Cordelia arrived, Griff had already had the morning from hell. First, he awoke a few hours before dawn to the sound of a velocycle pulling into the drive. It was Finley. He hadn’t known she was gone. And a note from Emily told him that before Finley left last night she’d been very much unlike the timid sweet girl she’d been earlier that day. She’d seemed almost like a completely different person.
Awake and irritable, he took a shower, wishing he were on his estate in Devon where he might have gone for a swim in the pond instead. Once dressed, he went downstairs for an early breakfast and found a letter waiting for him from Sam’s father, steward of that Devon estate. It was brief, but annoying. It seemed the new groundskeeper had left