The Girl in the Steel Corset - By Kady Cross Page 0,28
by that shadow of herself—at needing to be protected, “but isn’t it a little rude to crawl about in someone’s mind without permission?”
Griffin’s expression was all surprise and censure as he glanced at his companion. “Aunt Delia, you didn’t.”
The woman rubbed two fingers against her temple. “I did, but I was promptly shut out.” She looked at Finley in a manner that was both distrusting and respectful. “Well done.”
Finley didn’t know what to say to that, and since there was no way to explain it, she kept silent. Griffin spoke instead, introducing her to the woman, who was his aunt Cordelia, Lady Marsden, recently returned to London.
“Cordelia is a telepath,” Griff explained. “And telekinetic. That is to say—”
“She has a very powerful mind,” Finley interrupted. “I’ve noticed.” Not only because the woman had tried to intrude upon her thoughts, but because she’d held out her arm toward one of the bookcases and a leather-bound journal had flown off the shelf into her hand.
“That must make you very entertaining at parties,” Finley said to the woman, a tad snidely.
“And at court,” Lady Marsden replied with equal bite. She passed the book to Griffin. “Tell me, Miss Jayne, is your mother’s name Mary by any chance?”
“It is,” Finley replied, trying not to look too shocked. “What else did you see inside my mind?”
“The only thing I saw in your head, my girl, was my nephew’s visage next to that of Jack Dandy. Might I say what interesting company you keep.”
Finley flushed as Griff stared at her, but she held the older woman’s gaze. It was obvious that Griff’s aunt neither liked nor trusted her. “Who I see is none of your concern, ma’am.”
The woman stiffened. “While you’re in this house—”
“She’s my concern,” Griffin interjected. “Not yours, Aunt, and this conversation is getting way off track. Why don’t you enlighten both Miss Jayne and me as to how you knew her mother’s name?”
Lady Marsden looked both mollified and embarrassed. She no doubt was not accustomed to her nephew speaking to her in such a manner in front of others. “It’s in the book,” she said with a lift of her chin. The book in Griff’s hands opened, the pages seeming to flip on their own, though Finley knew it was the power of his aunt’s mind that moved them. Finally, they lay still, open to a page of photographs.
Finley moved closer, drawn by her own curiosity. She stood beside Griff and peered at one of the tea-colored images adhered to the page. It depicted a small group of people standing next to a strange vehicle that looked like a metal carriage with a large drill on the front of it. The man standing closest to it with his hand on the vehicle looked so much like Griff he could only be his father, the late duke. Next to him was a beautiful woman she took to be the duchess. There were other people, as well, but Finley gave them little notice as her gaze fell upon the man and the woman farthest away. The man she didn’t recognize, but the woman she did. Though this photograph had to have been taken almost twenty years ago, she knew her mother’s face.
Astonished, she looked up and saw Griff’s aunt watching her warily. “This is my mother,” she said unnecessarily.
Lady Marsden inclined her head. “Yes.”
“Who’s the man with her?” Griffin asked.
His aunt smiled tightly. “That would be Thomas Sheppard. He was a great scientist.” Her gaze cut to Finley. “And Mary’s husband.”
The bottom of Finley’s stomach felt as though it had dropped to the floor. “But that would mean…”
Lady Marsden nodded. “Your father, yes.”
Finley had always despised those girls who fainted anytime something fantastic or surprising happened, but at that moment she felt as though her knees might give way. Her head spun and she clutched at Griff’s arm for support.
She had never seen a photo of her father before this day. He mother said she hadn’t any.
“My father’s name was Thomas Jayne, not Thomas Sheppard.” Even if she said the words, they tasted like a lie. There was enough of her own looks in Thomas Sheppard’s face to prove his indentity.
“Then perhaps we should call upon your mother,” Lady Marsden suggested, a note of challenge in her voice. “I had heard that Thomas and Mary had a daughter they named Finley Jane Sheppard. What a coincidence you made your way here after all these years, your parents having been so closely tied to my brother