The Girl in the Steel Corset - By Kady Cross Page 0,59
the carpet and crouched in front of her to take hold of her hand. His fingers were warmer than hers. “How do you feel?”
Gazing into the faded blue of his eyes, she felt a little light-headed, like when she used to twirl in circles as a child, only to fall in a dizzy heap. “Fine,” she replied hoarsely. Lord, she hoped she didn’t make a cake of herself in front of him. The last thing he needed was her mooning over him like some infatuated idiot. He had rescued her last night, and for that she would be forever grateful—and sorry for whatever shame or scandal she brought down upon him.
“Excellent.” He stood, still holding her hand. “May I escort you to the garden? It’s a beautiful day, it would be a shame to miss it.”
Slowly, Finley rose from the sofa. Her brain seemed to swing slightly to the right, then to the left before righting itself. Griffin released her hand once she was steady and offered her his arm instead. She took it.
“What happened?” she asked as they crossed the great hall, then down another corridor. She tried to ignore how solid his arm was, how tall he was. How peculiar, but it was as though she was seeing him for the first time, or through different eyes.
He grinned. “Do you want the simple answer, or the long, drawn-out scholarly answer?”
“Let’s start simply. My head’s still a bit foggy from that awful stuff you made me drink.”
“First, I feel I should tell you that I didn’t take advantage of you as per your wishes.” He chuckled when she blushed. “I gave you a weak relaxant that opens the mind up to mesmerism. While you were in this tranquil state, I was able to bring out your other self without creating the kind of stress that normally precipitates a change. By doing this, and allowing both halves to coexist without opposition, we were able to overlap the personas, easing them onto the path of becoming one rather than two.”
Finley didn’t say anything. It took a few moments for her to understand what he’d just said through the fog in her brain. “So, is that it?”
“No. We still have work to do, but it went much easier than I expected. I thought I’d walk out of there with a bruised jaw at least, but you didn’t hit me, not even once.”
What a relief that was! She’d feel terrible if that other part of her had struck him while he was trying to help her. Yet…well, he seemed to accept that it could happen.
“Do you feel any different?” he asked.
“A little,” she replied, certain the direction of her thoughts seemed unusual. She was more aware of him as the opposite sex, and didn’t feel quite so guilty for her “other” nature. She felt calm, but stronger, pleasant, but not timid. It was odd. “I’m still me, but different somehow.”
He nodded. “That feeling will intensify as the two personas merge, but once it’s done you’ll feel more comfortable with it, and you won’t have to worry about one side taking over the other anymore.”
And that was what made this strange unease in her skin worthwhile. “Good. Griffin…” She stopped, trying to think of the right words to describe all the things she felt. There weren’t any. “Thank you. I know I’ve been a trial for you, and you’ve been so very good to me despite it all.”
His lips curved into a lopsided grin. “I reckon you’re worth it.”
Finley warmed and tried to conceal her pleased smile as she fell into step beside him once more.
They walked out into the garden via the main exit rather than the newly repaired door in Griffin’s study. There, on the back lawn, close to the house, was a canvas shelter on posts. It cast shade on the pristine cloth beneath it, the table loaded down with cold meats, breads, cheeses and fruit. At the sight of the banquet, Finley’s stomach growled once again. She placed her hand over it in mortification.
Griffin only chuckled. “I’m starving, as well,” he whispered near her ear, sparing her the embarrassment of anyone else overhearing. And anyone could have—Emily, Sam, Cordelia and even Jasper, the cowboy from last night, were all in attendance, the lot of them already gathered around the table.
“It’s about time,” Sam admonished with a frown. “I’m bloody starving out here.” Sam seemed a little moodier than usual. Finley wondered if that had anything to do with the way