quickly.”
The cowboy gave a curt nod. “Understood. I’ll do what I can. I’ll come by the day after tomorrow and I’ll give you all the information I can find.”
Griffin almost sagged in relief. “Thank you.” Renn wasn’t noble-born, but he had honor. His more “common” status, however, allowed him to travel within circles of moral ambiguity that Griffin could not. Griffin could never pass himself off as anything other than what he was, but a genuine American cowboy was an instant celebrity in London—exotic and strange, and not bound by the same rules.
He was just about to say goodbye and head home again when two identically clad ladies approached them. He recognized the amazing cherry-red of their chin-length hair immediately. They were the Cardinal Twins—trapeze performers with the circus. Tonight they wore porcelain-like masks painted with features almost exactly like their own—oddly disconcerting to look upon—and matching crystal-adorned corsets and bloomers with long, white ostrich-feather trains.
“Hello, gents,” they chorused in perfect unison. “Care to accompany us inside? It’s much more entertaining than out here.”
Griffin could hardly refuse when one of them held out her hand. He had been raised to be a gentleman, and gentlemen did not give ladies the cut. He offered her his arm, which she took in a supple yet strong hold. Her mask was smiling, but if the real lips beneath mirrored her painted ones, he had no idea.
He led the way with his escort, parting the heavy red drapes that served as door to the inner sanctum. In here there was lively music and people dancing as performers moved through the crowd. There would be a grand spectacle later—one that no doubt featured the Cardinal Sisters.
As soon as they were inside, Griffin was struck by how warm it was, crowded and humid with perspiration. Still, the music stirred him and the excitement of the crowd filled the air—and the Aether—with a buoyant energy even he could not discount.
Something drew his gaze. A young woman in a splendid feathered costume that made her look like the most exotic bird. His heart gave one tight thump against his ribs as he recognized her. His senses had found her even when he hadn’t been looking.
Finley. And she was holding on to Jack Dandy like a woman in love.
Chapter 11
What was she doing there? Finley asked herself as she glanced around the crowded circus.
Oh, her escort was charming enough. He was handsome in a sinister kind of way and had such a beguiling way of both murdering and evoking the English language that she found herself fascinated by every word that came out of his mouth. What she couldn’t fathom is why he wanted to bring her, of all people, to such a place.
Of course, it wasn’t really her he wanted, was it? It was her darker self that had piqued Jack Dandy’s interest, and that side was steadily growing stronger the more time she spent under this roof. She felt it clawing at the walls of the imaginary cage she’d built for it deep inside herself. It would love this place—and the company—but she couldn’t let it out. Not completely. She couldn’t remember what happened the last time it took over, and she wasn’t about to risk that again.
“You all right, Treasure?”
She glanced up at the concerned eyes watching her from behind the devil mask and smiled slightly. “A little overwhelmed.”
He nodded. “I understand. Crowds put me in a bit of a right old mess sometimes m’self. Dance then?”
Before she could answer, he had whisked her out onto the dance floor, caught her up in his arms and guided her into a waltz. They were entirely too close for propriety, though not quite close enough to be scandalous. Mr. Dandy obviously knew how to skirt the fringes of polite behavior.
“Might I say how deliciously lovely you look tonight?” he said, close to her ear, voice low enough that she could hear.
Finley shivered. “Thank you. It’s a beautiful costume. You oughtn’t have spent so much. Your generosity humbles me.”
He squeezed her hand. “Don’t you ever be ’umble. You deserve to be treated like a queen. Certainly by better than the likes of me, but I can’t seem to ’elp myself.”
She swallowed hard. “Good lord, you certainly know what to say to a girl, don’t you?”
He laughed at that—a loud, joyous sound that drowned out the music as he tossed his head back. Finley glanced about to see if anyone was staring. Everyone within a mile had to have heard