The Girl in the Steel Corset - By Kady Cross Page 0,60
Jasper Renn looked at Emily.
Griffin arched a brow. “You’re always starving.” There was no maliciousness in his tone, only the easy teasing Finley had come to expect of him. She wondered if Griffin King, Duke of Greythorne, ever lost his temper.
She’d wager it was spectacular when he did.
Yes, she had changed already. Yesterday the idea of a man’s temper would have unsettled her. But then again, she’d changed a lot since coming to this house. The fragments of her were coming together, like a puzzle long left unfinished.
Griffin led her to the table. As duke, his place was at the head. Lady Marsden was at the foot. Sam sat to the right of Griffin, which put him beside Emily, who looked vastly uncomfortable sitting next to the boy she obviously adored. The big oaf didn’t seem to notice, or perhaps, given the tightness of his jaw, he noticed too much. Finley sat in the empty chair to Griffin’s left, next to Jasper. The boys had stood at her arrival and now they all sat once more. The American smiled at her. He was very handsome with his sandy hair, strong jaw and quick grin. “You look right fine today, Miss Finley.”
She smiled at the compliment, embarrassed that he had seen the other side of her the night before. “Thank you.”
“You’ll have to excuse Jasper,” Griffin said to her. “Flirting’s like breathing to him.”
Jasper grinned, not at all insulted by the darker boy’s barb. His green eyes sparkled. “Yes, it is. And, Miss Finley, might I say that you are a breath of fresh air.”
They all laughed at that, even Sam, though Finley thought there was little humor in his dark eyes.
“There was a burglary at Madame Tussaud’s last night,” Lady Marsden said a few moments later as she nibbled on a piece of cheese.
“What did they take?” Emily asked.
“Who did they take?” Jasper echoed, causing a few chuckles, Finley included.
Lady Marsden shot him a droll look. “How very perceptive of you, Mr. Renn. Scotland Yard believes it to be nothing more than a jubilee-inspired prank, but the thieves absconded with the likeness of Victoria.”
“Queen Victoria?” Finley asked, jaw dropping.
The lady nodded, not quite meeting her gaze. The older woman hadn’t been quite so confrontational with her since forcing her way into her mind. “The one and same.”
“It must be a prank,” Sam commented, stuffing cheese and meat between two slices of bread. “Why would anyone want to steal a wax doll of an old woman?” He shook his head.
Griffin watched his friend for a moment, a smile curving one side of his mouth. Then, he turned to his aunt. “It can’t be a coincidence that her likeness would be stolen during celebrations of her diamond jubilee.”
“Indeed,” Lady Marsden agreed. “Less so when you consider that it was Her Majesty’s hairbrush amongst the items stolen from the museum.”
Jasper frowned. “A hairbrush?” He made a scoffing noise as he leaned back in his chair, an apple in his hand. “Why would anyone steal that? Was it gold?”
The lady looked down her nose at him, obviously dismayed at his lack of “Britishness.” “It was a gift from Prince Albert.” When Jasper stared at her, she added, “The queen’s late husband. He died thirty-six years ago and she mourns him still.”
Jasper’s eyebrows rose. “That’s an old hairbrush.”
Lady Marsden rolled her eyes and Finley hid a smile behind a grape.
Griffin picked up a ripe, red strawberry and seemed to study it before taking a bite. “Does the Yard believe the theft to be the work of The Machinist?”
Cordelia shrugged. “They are uncertain at this time, but it seems probable.”
He swallowed and licked juice from his lips. “What does he want? I can’t hypothesize the method to this madness.”
“What else was taken from the museum?” Emily inquired. “Perhaps if we put together what has been taken, we’ll know better what his goal is.” Finley understood what the other girl left unsaid—that they might also better understand why The Machinist toyed with the automaton that attacked Sam.
“I don’t know,” Griffin replied. “The room was left in shambles. The curator was to send me a list once an inventory was able to be completed. I’m sure he’s very busy with the collection Franks left the museum upon his death.” Finley didn’t know much about Sir Augustus Wollaston Franks, but she’d heard that he bequeathed to the museum a collection that included, amongst other things, more than a thousand antique finger rings from various cultures.