Chapter 11
Finley didn’t get much of a chance to poke around in Dalton’s business. She managed to sneak into his bedroom but found nothing of any interest—not even a safe—except a book filled with stories and pictures that made her face hot and the rest of her feel twitchy. After looking at it, she had a pretty deep suspicion that this was exactly the sort of book her stepfather, Silas, kept in the locked cupboard at the back of his shop.
Once she was done with his room, she moved on to the parlor but didn’t expect to find anything. Anything important—that wasn’t hidden in his bedroom—would be in his study, and that’s where Dalton was at the moment.
Jasper and the others weren’t back yet, so there was nothing for her to do and no one for her to talk to— unless she went to Dalton. She was pretty certain he had Mei with him, and she’d rather swallow live leeches than spend any more time than she had to with that girl.
There was something of a training room set up in what normally would have been a drawing room, on what some of the people around here referred to as the first floor. This was confusing because she was used to calling it the ground floor, which was followed by the first, second and so on. There was a sparring square and a sandbag for punching, along with other equipment to improve physical health and strength. Dalton shared the modern belief that exertion was good not only for the human body but the mind, as well. It was the perfect place for her to go to burn off some of this nervous energy dancing through her veins.
She was already dressed in loose knee-length trousers with lace trim on the hems and a comfortable shirt with a supple leather corset over the top, so she didn’t need to change. She jogged downstairs, her thick-soled boots quiet, and headed straight for the training room.
She began with some stretches to limber up her muscles, then moved on to climbing the rope suspended from the ceiling. When she reached the top, she turned and went back down the rope headfirst, coiling the rope around one of her legs to keep steady. She reached the bottom and was just about to turn around and go back up again when she heard footsteps. She looked up to see Jasper walking toward her. He didn’t have his Stetson on, and the ends of his hair stuck out a bit from where the hat had set.
“Ain’t you just like a monkey,” he remarked with a grin. Finley smiled back. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” “You do that. Want me to hold that for you?” She had moved on to the sandbag, and the extra weight
would make it more difficult for her to move. “Thanks.”
Jasper put himself flush against the leather bag and anchored himself by wrapping his arms partially around it, using his elbows as added security.
A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed that they were alone in the room. “Where did you go?” she asked, keeping her voice low just in case.
“Forger,” he replied. “Dalton paid him for three copies of an invitation to the Museum of Science and Invention.”
Finley swung at the bag with her left fist and connected with a solid
“Don’t know. Little Hank grabbed them from me before I could read the whole thing. But I did see something about it being a gala event. There can’t be too many of those going on, can there?”
“Your reckon is as good as mine,” she allowed, taking another swing. “During the Season, the upper class can get dozens of invitations to similar affairs. However, they’re normally at different places, so no, I don’t think there could be too many galas going on at that museum. I’ll send a message to Griffin later.”
Jasper grunted when she hit the bag so hard it actually moved him back a couple of inches. “You need to tell him we’re going to the Olympia tomorrow night, too.”
“How did you manage to hide a piece of the device in a theater?”
“They were still building it at the time. I got a job on the construction crew.” He leaned into the bag, and this time it didn’t move as much when she hit it. She could send a full-grown man flying with a good punch, but there was no point doing that to the bag—it would only break, and then she’d have hundreds of pounds of sand to clean up.
“Clever.” Another punch. “I’ll let Griffin know. He should be recovered enough by then. Bloody fool’s likely to go even if he isn’t.”
“You never did tell me what happened.”
She’d forgotten that. They hadn’t been alone since she’d returned that morning. Lord, had it only been yesterday that Griffin almost died? “He was attacked at Mr. Tesla’s home.”
Jasper looked startled, but he maintained his hold on the sandbag. “Did Tesla attack him?”
“No,” she replied with a chuckle, despite the seriousness of the situation. “Apparently Griffin saw a shadowlike creature in the Aether, and it was attached to this machine that came ‘alive’ on its own. That’s what attacked him. Sam’s convinced it was a ghost—a mean one.”
“What does Griffin think?”
She threw a left uppercut. “He can’t think of any other explanation, though he’s never seen anything like it before. It hurt him bad, Jas.” She lowered her fists.
Jasper eased his hold on the sandbag and leaned his cheek against the side of it as he looked at her. “You all right?”
Finley shrugged. “Yeah. It was scary seeing him like that.”
“He does come across as somewhat invulnerable, don’t he?” Jasper smiled. “The two of you are like a twister colliding with a mountain.”
There was no need to ask which one of the two she was, Finley thought with a smile.
“I bet His Grace doesn’t like you being around Dalton very much.”
She leaned against the bag, as well. “You mean because Dalton’s so pretty? Maybe. He’d never admit it, though.”
Jasper arched a brow. “I meant because you seem to have a liking for fellas of dubious character. You like being on the wrong side of the law.”
A frown pinched between her eyebrows. “I do not like fellows of ‘dubious character.’ And I’m not certain I like being accused of enjoying a life of crime.”
He tilted his head. “Tell me you don’t enjoy it.”
Now, that really would be a lie. “It’s exciting, of course. But so far, being a friend of Griffin’s has been far from dull.”
Jasper watched her with an expression that was either amusement or pity. “You like the adventure and the danger of it, just like I did when I first joined up. It’s fun to do things and not get caught—so long as no one gets hurt. But people do get hurt, Miss Finley. Especially when Dalton’s around.”
“Is that the voice of experience I hear?” she asked with forced levity.
He nodded. “It is. I’ve seen him kill a man just to make a point. I’d hate to ever know that you had become like that.”
“Me, too,” she agreed.
A moment of silence followed. She watched as Jasper frowned, as though contemplating something important in his head. “Miss Finley, there’s something I need to ask you.”
He usually only called her Miss Finley when trying to be charming, so to hear it in this grave tone was just wrong. “You talked to Mei,” she guessed. It was the only explanation for the way he couldn’t quite look at her.
“Did you threaten to throw her out the window?”
Only biting the inside of her mouth kept her from laughing. It sounded so absurd, especially in that slow, melodic accent of his. “Yes. I did.”
Now he looked at her, his green eyes full of hurt and anger. “Why would you do that to someone smaller and weaker than you?”
Instantly defensive, Finley braced her hands on her hips. “She might be small, but there’s nothing weak about her. She’s like a little wild animal that might look cute and sweet but will try to eat your face if you get too close.”
Jasper scowled. “She is not.”
