Blushing, Finley made a face at her. “You know what I mean. So does he have any idea what the thing is?” She shouldn’t have to ask Emily for this information, but Griffin hadn’t volunteered it when she’d asked back at the hotel. He probably had some absurd notion that he was protecting her by not telling her. Maybe he thought she’d worry. Of course she was going to worry about him, the lunatic.
“Not really, but the prevailing theory is that it might be an angry ghost tethered to Tesla’s rooms or the hotel in general. Provided Tesla doesn’t go into the Aether again, everything should be fine—including Griff.”
A sigh broke free from Finley’s lips. That was the best news she’d heard in a while.
Emily held up a golden-colored gown. “What do you think of this one?”
“Perfect,” Finley replied. “You’ll look gorgeous. Sam will slip in his own drool.”
The smaller girl’s nose wrinkled. “That’s an attractive picture to put in a girl’s head.”
Laughing, Finley found a gown for herself—it was a rich purple-colored silk. “I think this is one of the most beautiful dresses I’ve ever seen.”
“Perfect choice,” Emily agreed. “What else do you need to get?”
Their gowns chosen, they then went about finding a few items for Finley, to do her until she could get the clothes she had at the hotel laundered. Right now, she was wearing more of Griffin’s things but with one of her own corsets to add a feminine touch. No doubt he would be glad when she stopped wearing his clothes, given that he had lost some of his, as well.
They didn’t talk about Dalton or any of their plans as they shopped. Both of them were too paranoid to talk in public— plus they knew better. One never knew who might be listening. So instead they talked a little about Sam and Griffin and a little about poor Jasper, for whom both of their hearts ached.
Finally their shopping done, they stood patiently while seamstresses pinned them in each garment for alterations. The shop was equipped with sewing automatons, and many of their selections would be ready the next morning, if not this evening.
“Please, send the bill to the Duke of Greythorne care of the Waldorf-Astoria,” Finley instructed the shopgirl.
“Don’t you dare,” Miss Astor-Prynn interjected before Finley could tell her that she could also have the clothing delivered to the same address. “This girl is a scam artist.”
The skin of Finley’s neck and cheeks warmed with embarrassment. Everyone was looking at her, perhaps finding this nasty baggage’s words easy to believe. “You don’t know me at all,” she said in a calm, even voice. “You don’t know Griffin, either.”
The other girl bristled. “You brazen slattern, calling him by his Christian name! Of all the arrogance. I don’t know how you managed to escape arrest, but you won’t be so fortunate next time.”
Finley turned to Emily, whose face was beet-red, and whispered, “If I punched her in the mouth, do you think she’d shut up?”
Emily smiled, but it was obvious she was furious on Finley’s behalf.
“I’m sorry,” the shopgirl said sincerely, “but I’m afraid given Miss Astor-Prynn’s accusations, I’m going to need proof that you are in the duke’s traveling party.”
Finley’s narrow gaze went back to the righteous slag responsible for this. To think that she had thought this was the kind of girl Griffin would prefer to her. No one could prefer this nasty bag of bones.
The door opened behind her, the little bell tinkling, but Finley ignored it. She took a step closer to the girl who, at the moment, was making her life difficult. “What do you think he’s going to do? Propose? Take you back to England? He’s eighteen. No gentleman ever gets married so young.”
“Lengthy engagements aren’t unheard of,” Miss AstorPrynn argued. A cruel smile twisted her lips. “What do you think will happen when he tires of you and your—” she raked Finley with a blatantly insulting gaze “— talents?”
“I cannot imagine that ever happening” came a voice from behind them.
Finley’s fingers uncurled, releasing the fist she’d been about to drive into the witch’s face. She noted how the blood drained from that once smug face before turning her own toward her savior.
“Your Grace,” she said happily. “I’m so glad you’re here. Miss Astor-Prynn has doubts as to whether or not Emily and I are part of your entourage. Would you kindly disabuse her of such thoughts so that we can return to the hotel with our purchases?”
Griffin’s teeth flashed as he grinned. Obviously he found her overly sweet and proper tone amusing. “I would be delighted, Miss Jayne.” He shot a particularly cold glance at Miss Astor-Prynn before addressing the girl at the counter. “Please have the ladies’ items delivered to the Waldorf.” He handed her a crisp bill for her “trouble.”
The girl scurried to do just as he asked, stammering apologies as she moved.
Griffin’s smile faded as he regarded Finley’s nemesis once more. “Miss Astor-Prynn, I wish you every happiness in your life. I believe you do not have many of them. But I can honestly and without regret inform you that, even if I were inclined to marry at my age, you would be the absolute
If she were a better person, Finley would have kept her gaze fixed on the exit ahead of them. Instead, she gave in to temptation and craned her neck to peer back over her shoulder at Miss Astor-Prynn, whose face was as hard as marble and just as white, save for two angry red splotches on her cheeks.
Finley smiled and waved.
“Stop that,” Griffin commanded under his breath as they reached the door, but there was no anger in his words, only a sparkle in his gray-blue eyes.
Finley’s smile softened into a more sincere expression. “Thank you. I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t arrived.”
“I do,” Emily volunteered. “We would have been asked to leave, and you would have knocked that cow’s teeth down her throat. I rather like to think she would have choked on them.”
Griffin and Finley laughed. “The two of you are the most bloodthirsty wenches I’ve ever met.”
“Do you like it?” Finley asked, squeezing his arm before releasing it.
He turned to her, his eyes bright. Was it just the reflection of the sun that gave them such warmth or something from within?
“I love it,” he said. The sudden deepening of his voice caused a wild fluttering in her stomach. It wasn’t so much what he said that thrilled her, but how he said it—and what was left unsaid, as well.
She couldn’t think of a bloody thing to say in reply.
Still smiling, Griffin held open the door of the hired cab for Emily and her to climb inside. Finley had just gotten herself situated when he plopped down beside her. His leg rested against hers, warm and solid.
When he took her hand in his and gave it a light squeeze, she didn’t try to pull away. For a moment, as she and Griffin stared into each other’s eyes, smiling, it seemed as though everything was right and perfect with the world.
But Finley had the sinking sensation that the feeling wasn’t going to last.
Chapter 17
Wildcat was absolutely the last person Jasper expected to see that evening. Not just because he thought their business concluded, but because his room was several stories up and she was smiling at him from the other side of his window.
Cat’s smile had frightened more than one man senseless— girls with fangs tended to be somewhat intimidating. Jasper wasn’t quite certain what she was, but his time with her had convinced him she was more than merely human. She wasn’t called Wildcat just because of her attitude.
More curious than afraid, Jasper crossed the carpet of the room Griffin had secured for him and opened the window. He wasn’t the least bit surprised to see Cat hanging off the side of the building without the aid of rope. Her claws could dig into the brick, and she was strong enough to support her weight with her fingers and toes.
They had enjoyed quite a bit of adventure during his brief time in New York City, given his speed and her talents.
