The Girl in the Steel Corset

him—hard. He flashed a glance at her, she did not look impressed.

Jasper shrugged. “Just thought y’all might like to know that Griffin’s awake.” Then he turned on his heel and left.

“You’re so mean to him,” Emily scolded lightly.

Sam made a face, but he didn’t say anything. He especially did not apologize. “You want to go see Griff?”

She nodded and he stood and helped her out of bed. She had all her clothes on so she didn’t need to stop for anything. They walked down the hall to the other bedroom where Finley and Jasper sat on the side of the bed and Griffin lay against the pillows, pale but awake.

“It’s good to see you all,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I thought I might not ever have that pleasure again. Even your ugly mug looks pretty to me, Sam.”

Sam grinned. “Who do you think lugged you out of there, Your Grace?”

“Thank you.” Griffin was serious this time. “All of you. Thank you for helping me fight, and thank you for saving my life.”

“It’s what you’d do for us,” Jasper reminded him.

“It’s enough that you’re alive,” Finley told him. Sam noticed that the girl was holding Griffin’s hand in her own and his friend didn’t seem to mind.

“Yes,” Griff agreed. “I hear I have Mr. Dandy to thank for that. Is he here?”

Finley told him that Dandy had left some time ago, but that he’d told them to stay for as long as they needed. Griffin seemed oddly relieved that their host was missing, Sam thought. Kind of like how he felt whenever Jasper Renn wasn’t around. Jealousy, that’s what it was. He never would have thought Griffin capable of such emotion, not when he was born to a position in life that meant he could pretty much have whatever he wanted.

Although, the human heart didn’t come with a price on it.

Two days later, a fully recovered Griffin came down to breakfast to find his friends and aunt gathering. Cordelia poured him a cup of coffee, fluttering over him like a mother hen. She even tried to fix him a plate of food, but he convinced her he could get his own. When he found out whomever it was who told her how badly he’d been hurt, he’d string them up by their toes.

“I just received a note from the Director,” Cordelia told them all once they settled down to eat. “They’ve searched the warehouse. Twenty automatons were accounted for, but Garibaldi and the remains of the Victoria automaton were missing.”

Griffin froze, a knot of dread forming in his chest. “You mean, Garibaldi may still be alive?” He hadn’t wanted to kill him because that would give him better access to the Aether, but hearing the villain might still be alive chilled him.

“It’s unlikely,” Cordelia replied in one of her more soothing tones. “The Director believes Garibaldi had an accomplice, who went into the wreckage shortly after the collapse and got both man and machine out of there. I suspect one of his automatons was still operational and pulled Garibaldi’s body from the building. There’s no way he could have survived what you did to the building, Griffin.”

Griffin shook his head. “Without a body, no one can say for certain The Machinist is dead.” He might come back.

Obviously Cordelia sensed his unease because he soon heard her voice in his head, “Garibaldi is gone, Griffin. He could never have survived what you did to that place You must believe me.”

He smiled at her to show that he did. Of course he believed her. It was just that he’d feel so much better if they had proof. If he could go to the funeral and see Garibaldi in the casket with his own two eyes.

He’d gotten justice for his parents, but it didn’t feel as satisfying as he thought it would, and not just because Garibaldi was missing, but because no matter what he did, he couldn’t bring his parents back. As wealthy and powerful as he was, he was still as helpless as any man.

“And,” Cordelia began, smiling around the table at them as she interrupted his maudlin thoughts, “Her Majesty would like for you all to come to tea at the palace next Wednesday so she can personally thank each and every one of you for sabotaging The Machinist’s plot to replace and possibly kill her.”

“Are we certain that’s what he wanted to do?” Griffin asked. He wasn’t as flabbergasted by the queen’s invitation as the others. “Kill her?”

His aunt nodded. “My friend found bits of notes amongst the papers and blueprints in the warehouse—all of which are on your desk, by the way—that seem to indicate Garibaldi’s plan was to kill the real Victoria and replace her with his metal doppelganger. With his machine in place, he would effectively rule the country, and his revenge for what he considered his monarch’s betrayal would be complete. He had plans to take away the Devonshire mines from Greythorne and make them his own.”

“All of this for the Organites,” Griffin muttered. “So many dead for those strange little creatures.” He would have liked to see Garibaldi just try to take his home away.

“Her Majesty was right to want them kept secret.” Finley turned to him. “Look what they did to Garibaldi.”

“Well, he’s gone now,” Sam said, slathering a thick slice of toast with jam. “And I say good riddance.”

Griffin raised his coffee cup. “Hear, hear.” When everyone went back to talking amongst themselves, he directed his attention at Finley. “Would you care to take a walk with me later? I thought we might go to Hyde Park.” Where they had first met, though he didn’t say that aloud. He also pretended not to notice that everyone at the table was listening with interest, waiting to hear Finley’s reply.

She smiled. “I’d like that. Jasper’s going to teach me more kung fu later, and Emily and I have plans to discuss Da Vinci, but I’m free around two.”

He grinned. Most girls he knew would cancel those other things to conform to his whim, not tell him to wait. He liked it. “Two it is.” He then glanced at Jasper, who had become something of a regular fixture around his house as of late. In fact, they hadn’t continued that conversation Jasper began in his study before Finley interrupted.

They were just finishing up breakfast when a knock sounded upon the front door. A few moments later, Mrs. Dodsworth bustled in, four rough-looking men behind her.

“I told them to wait, Your Grace, but they refused!”

Griffin calmly rose to his feet. “Who are you and what are you doing in my house?”

One of the men stepped forward and tipped his hat. “Morning, Your Grace. Sorry to barge in on you like this, but my associates and I are here to arrest Jasper Renn and take him New York City.”

A collective gasp of surprise rose from those around the table.

“What?” Griffin scowled at the man. “On what charges?”

“Murder,” the man replied, his gaze darting from Griffin to Jasper and back again. He offered Griffin a folded and tattered piece of brownish paper. “We don’t want no trouble.”

Griffin opened the paper. It was a Wanted poster, and on it was a good likeness of Jasper, along with the promise of a $5000 reward for whoever brought him in. It looked official.

“America’s laws aren’t law here,” he told the man, thrusting the poster into his hand. “Please leave.”

The man hitched up his gun belt. “I don’t think you understand. We’re not leaving without Renn.”

“Oh, yes, you are,” Finley said, rising to her feet. Sam and Emily stood, as well.

The man laughed and pulled a gun from the holster around his hips. “I got six bullets right here that say we’re taking the boy with us and you’re gonna let us.”

Since the night at the warehouse, the Aether came readily to Griffin—almost too readily. It didn’t overwhelm him as it had when he was younger, but it always seemed to be there, just waiting for his call. Right now he was going to call it to knock this yokel on his dirty arse.

“I’ll go.”

All heads turned. Jasper stood and faced the men with an expression Griffin could only term resigned. It was that expression that told him that this was what Jasper had wanted to talk about. He was in trouble and Griffin had been too caught up in his own affairs to see that.

“Griff, don’t do anything.” Jasper moved toward the Americans, eyeing them with an unflinching gaze. “I’ll go