The Girl in the Steel Corset - By Kady Cross Page 0,34

strong hand gripped her arm—the one poised to strike above her ladyship’s face. “She’s not the one you want to hurt,” Griffin said in that melodic voice of his.

Finley turned her head, but she didn’t let go. “No? Because I have to tell you, this feels pretty good right now.”

He reached over and took hold of her other wrist, as well. Gently, but firmly, he pulled her hand from his aunt’s neck. Finley let him do it. She knew she was physically stronger than he was, but there was something about his voice and the way he spoke to her that took the anger out of her and made her want to do what he said. That terrified her even as the darkness eased from her soul. What else could he make her do if he wanted?

She whirled on him, but he kept his hold on one of her wrists. His other hand, instead of coming up to defend himself as she thought it would, circled her waist, pulling her against him. He hugged her. Letting go of her wrist, he cupped the back of her head, holding her so her face was in the crook of his neck. He smelled warm and spicy—like cinnamon and cloves. Safe, and comforting. As he held her, he murmured soft words. She wasn’t even sure if any of them made sense, but she listened all the same, too shocked by this display of concern—of trust. It would take little effort for her to hurt him right now. She could hurt him badly.

But Griffin King could hurt her, as well, and he hadn’t. Instead of using force or violence against her, he used patience and understanding. She had no defense against that.

When he let her go, she was shaking. Tears filled her eyes as she turned to her mother who stood staring at her in horror.

“My sweet little girl,” her mother whispered. “I didn’t know. I would never…” Her words faded into a choked sob. Finley crossed the short distance between them on quivering legs and wrapped her arms around the shorter woman. She didn’t care if Griffin or his nasty aunt saw her tears. If anything was worth crying over, the discovery that her father had made her a monster had to be one.

Chapter 7

You owe Finley an apology.” Griffin and Cordelia were alone now, having sent Finley to her room for rest—something the poor girl no doubt needed, along with time to process everything they’d learned that day.

Cordelia shot him a sharp look. “For trying to kill me? I think not.”

“For believing that she’d lied about her father,” Griff retorted, closing the study door. “She had no idea of what the man was up to.”

She picked up the chunk of teal ore he used as a paper weight and pretended to study it. “So she claims.”

“Cordelia, not even you are good enough an actress to put forth such a performance.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Finley Jayne is a victim in all of this, not our enemy. If anything, it’s my responsibility to help her.”

“For something that happened before you were born? Rubbish.”

“Why? You were content to blame her on the same criteria.”

His aunt pursed her lips and Griffin knew she couldn’t argue. “Our fathers made a mistake and now Finley’s paying for it. I think she deserves our help, don’t you?”

Cordelia shrugged somewhat sullenly. Times like this reminded Griffin that she wasn’t even ten years his senior.

Griffin sighed and pushed a button on the box atop his desk. “I’m going to have some coffee, during which I’m going to read Father’s notes on Thomas Sheppard. Then, I’m going to sit down with Finley. I can’t image how she feels knowing her father was the inspiration for Jekyll and Hyde.” That had been a tidbit that came out earlier in the afternoon—courtesy of Cordelia, of course.

His aunt set the ore on the desk once more. “Sheppard was careless. There was gossip. Of course he provoked Stevenson’s interest. Finley will do the same if she’s not careful, which she won’t be. She could call undue attention to all of us.”

And by that she meant Griffin most of all. He shook his head. “And that gives you the right to be mean to her?”

His aunt turned to stare at him, as though she could not believe he’d question her. “She pushed me out of her mind, not once but three times. Do you know the number of people who have ever been