listening for a moment so I don’t have to resort to violence? I’ve been told I’m very good at it.”
He regarded her as though she was some kind of wild animal, which was all right with Finley, because she was getting rather used to being looked at that way. “What do you want?”
“You know I’m a friend of the Duke of Greythorne, right?”
He nodded, his expression hard. “Though, now that I’ve made your acquaintance, I’m afraid I don’t understand how.”
That stung a little bit, but she had threatened to break his arm. “I wonder the same thing myself at times, but you don’t have to understand, sir. What you need to do is stay here with me long enough for Jasper to get back to Dalton, because if you don’t, Dalton won’t get his machine, and he won’t do whatever it is that’s going to get him arrested. You do want him to be arrested, right?”
It was obvious from the look on his face that the older man didn’t like what she had to say. However, it was also obvious that he realized she spoke the truth. He swore—very colorfully. Finley’s eyebrows rose in appreciation.
“Was your mother a fishwife by any chance?” she inquired. “Because you certainly sound like one.”
He flashed her a disgusted glance. “You realize that there’s a very good chance Renn will be arrested along with Dalton? You, too?”
Actually, Finley hadn’t realized that. She assumed she’d be back with Griffin and the others by then—Jasper, too. But there was a very good chance she and Jasper would be forced to participate in whatever Dalton had planned, if it was going to happen in New York.
She had gotten in plenty of trouble in the past, but she’d never been arrested. She wasn’t keen on it now.
“There’s a very good chance the duke won’t be able to help you, either. This ain’t England. As much as some folks seem to like his title and fancy ways, most folks in this country hate the English, and you’ll be the one who suffers for it.”
Finley swallowed—hard. It could be that he was just trying to scare her—and it was working—or he could mean every word. Suddenly, these past few days running with Reno Dalton didn’t seem half so exciting as they had earlier this evening.
But she had to get out of there quickly. If she and Jasper didn’t return, Dalton would send someone out looking for them, and if she was seen talking to Kirby there would be even more trouble—for Jasper.
She glanced around the foyer for any sign of the criminal and saw none. What she did see, however, made her heart freeze in her chest.
Lydia Astor-Prynn—the girl she had run into after she’d knocked out Griffin—stood on the stairs talking to several men in black suits. With her was an older woman, who looked so much like her she had to be her mother. They were all staring at Finley. Lydia pointed at her, and when the men moved away to start toward Finley, the blonde girl shot her a smug glance.
Finley swore. This time, Whip Kirby was the one who was surprised. “What was that about a fishwife?”
She ignored the remark. “Mr. Kirby, I have to get out of here. Now.”
His amusement turned to a frown as he looked at her. No doubt she looked a fright. She could fight these men—probably—but could she do it before the police arrived? What if they had guns?
Kirby glanced over his shoulder and saw the men approach. Finley barely had time to react when he wrenched his arm free of her grip and whipped her around so that her back was to him. He had handcuffs on her before she could even think to fight.
“I’m going to get you out of here,” he murmured close to her ear. Then loudly, “You’re coming with me, you dirty thief.” He flashed his badge at the men and introduced himself as a federal marshal. They immediately backed off, and Kirby marched her across the foyer to the exit.
Finley’s cheeks burned in embarrassment, and her knees trembled. She was scared, and she was angry at herself for it. Griffin trusted this man, and she should, as well, but it was hard to trust someone when they had you in irons.
She glanced up to see Sam at the top of the stairs. Her eyes burned at the sight of his scowling face. Of all the people to witness her being treated like a common criminal, she was glad it was him and not Emily or Griffin.
Finley reached into her bag and groped blindly until she found the piece of paper Jasper had given her. It was a big risk she was about to take, but she quickly—as quickly as the restraints would allow—folded it into a small square and dropped it on the floor behind her. Sam’s dark gaze followed the paper as she nudged it toward the wall, where it was less likely to be seen by someone passing by. Then his gaze lifted to hers.
He gave her a tiny nod—silently promising that everything would be all right.
As she was shoved out into the warm night, she wished she could believe him.
When he’d slipped into the seat beside Dalton, his old friend had looked at him with an expression of annoyance. The lighting in the box—in all the audience—was dim so that the stage was the center of attention, but Jasper could see good enough. He could also tell that Griffin and the others were watching from their side of the theater.
“Why are you sitting there?” Dalton asked softly.
Jasper glanced at him. “Whip Kirby just took Finley.” He knew this because he had hidden around a corner and watched the entire scenario play out. Finley had told him to run, but he couldn’t bring himself to completely abandon her—not until he had to.
Dalton’s face paled at the man’s name. The reaction intrigued Jasper. So Dalton was afraid of something— someone. “This is unfortunate,” he murmured. “Did you get the piece?”
Was that all the consideration Finley got? Jasper wanted to punch Dalton in the face. Instead, he patted his jacket. “Right here.”
“Good.” Dalton shot a glance over his shoulder at Little Hank. “Let’s go. It seems we’ll have another way to test our device. The Duke of Greythorne can wait. We have a much more important agenda now.” He took Mei by the arm and hauled her to her feet as he stood.
Jasper rose behind him. He cast one last glance across the theater before he departed and saw Griffin watching them. He shook his head, hoping his friend saw how sorry he was. Maybe someday, Griffin would forgive him, but as he turned to leave the box he figured it was highly unlikely—especially now that Finley was in Whip Kirby’s custody.
Dalton waited for him outside. Mei was with Little Hank now, and the two of them were already a considerable distance down the corridor, poor little Mei rushing to keep up with the giant’s long strides.
The criminal glanced at him as they began to walk. “Don’t mope, Jas. It doesn’t become you.”
“Bugger off,” Jasper growled, borrowing an appropriate phrase he’d picked up in London.
“Now, don’t be like that.” Dalton nudged him with his elbow. “Cheer up. We have work to do.”
“You mean putting together your precious machine?”
Dalton grinned. “Of course, and you know what we’re going to use it for?”
“What?” Jasper asked warily.
He smiled, lips curving sharply. “A jailbreak. We’re going to bust Miss Finley out.”
Where was Finley?
Griffin’s heart seemed to be struck in his throat as he watched Jasper return alone to Dalton’s box in the theater. Jasper looked worried—Dalton, too. That couldn’t be good.
He gripped the arms of his chair as he waited for Sam to return. He’d sent his friend to spy on Finley and Jasper, and he should have returned by now.
Unless something had happened to Sam, as well.
He turned to Emily. “If he’s not back soon, I’m going looking for him.”
Emily nodded, ropes of hair swinging around her face. “I’m coming with you.” She nodded across the way. “Where do you suppose they got off to?”
“No idea.”
Silence fell between them for a couple of heartbeats— which he felt in the back of his mouth.
A small hand settled on top of his. “She’s all right, lad. You know she’s tougher than most men.”
He nodded. Physically, Finley was one of the strongest people he knew next to Sam. She was strong in other
