I want to be worthy of yours, but … neither of us seems to be very good at offering it.”
He nodded. “You’re right. I suppose we both have some work to do. For my part, I am sorry. I’m afraid I haven’t been myself lately.”
When it was obvious that was all he was going to say on the subject, she asked, “Is it the Aether?”
“Something feels odd.” He shrugged—or maybe it was a shudder. “Never mind that. I want you to be careful tonight. If it doesn’t feel right, get out of there immediately.”
She nodded. “I will.” But she had no intention of leaving without Jasper.
As if reading her mind, Griffin arched a brow. “We don’t know if you’ll be able to count on Jasper for help.”
Finley met his gaze. “You don’t really think he’s a murderer, do you?”
He scratched his head with a sigh. “No, I don’t, but I’ve been wrong before. That doesn’t mean I’m going to leave him with Dalton, though.” At that moment, he looked so tired. She wanted to take all of his worries away, but she had no idea how to do that.
She reached over and touched his hand. “We’ll get him.”
A slow smile curved his lips, and she suddenly wanted to lean in and kiss him—just press her lips to his until everything else went away.
His fingers closed around hers. “I know.”
They sat there for a moment, holding hands until the tension between them grew. One would think this bit of atonement would have made things easier, but this awareness was so thick she could almost taste it.
Something had changed between them. She wasn’t certain what it meant, but she was fairly certain that, whatever it was, it was good. And if she survived dinner with Dalton, she just might get to enjoy it.
Chapter 6
After discussing it further with the others—she was trying to prove she could be a team player—Finley decided she would let Dalton see that her bruises had healed, rather than trying to re-create them with cosmetics. Her ability to heal quickly could only be seen as an advantage, especially to someone who might want to use her for violence.
She dressed in one of her sleeveless Oriental-style gowns in violet satin, embroidered with tiny red-and-gold flowers. It was flashy, but nothing a girl who lived a life of crime couldn’t afford. Over it, she hooked a flexible black satin corset that matched her square-toed boots. She put her hair up with chopsticks, darkened her eyelashes and painted a light rose color on her cheeks and lips—nothing too garish. She wanted to look like someone with aspirations of finer things, not a trollop.
Finally she dabbed a little sandalwood perfume behind her ears and on her wrists and strapped a blade around her thigh—just above the slit in her skirt. She hoped she wouldn’t need it, but even she wasn’t stupid enough to go into a lion’s den without some sort of protection other than her own fists and feet. And her head. She had an incredibly hard skull.
It was a cool evening so she took a shawl with her, though she doubted she’d need it. She tended to run a little warmer than most people. When she left her room she locked the door and slipped the key into a small pocket inside her corset—no chance of Dalton or anyone else finding it there. A key from the Waldorf-Astoria would cause suspicion. The last thing she wanted was to alert the criminal to her association with Griffin—and therefore Jasper.
Jasper. Would he be glad to see her, or had he already told Dalton who she really was? Would she be walking straight into a trap? No, she wouldn’t think that of him. Jasper was her friend, and she would do everything she could for him.
She called for the lift and took it all the way down to the main foyer, which was lit in such a manner as to flatter all the ladies—and their glittering jewels. She hadn’t fully realized when they first arrived just how fancy the hotel was. Having been a lady’s maid in two fine houses had made it easy for her to move into
He nodded. “You’re right. I suppose we both have some work to do. For my part, I am sorry. I’m afraid I haven’t been myself lately.”
When it was obvious that was all he was going to say on the subject, she asked, “Is it the Aether?”
“Something feels odd.” He shrugged—or maybe it was a shudder. “Never mind that. I want you to be careful tonight. If it doesn’t feel right, get out of there immediately.”
She nodded. “I will.” But she had no intention of leaving without Jasper.
As if reading her mind, Griffin arched a brow. “We don’t know if you’ll be able to count on Jasper for help.”
Finley met his gaze. “You don’t really think he’s a murderer, do you?”
He scratched his head with a sigh. “No, I don’t, but I’ve been wrong before. That doesn’t mean I’m going to leave him with Dalton, though.” At that moment, he looked so tired. She wanted to take all of his worries away, but she had no idea how to do that.
She reached over and touched his hand. “We’ll get him.”
A slow smile curved his lips, and she suddenly wanted to lean in and kiss him—just press her lips to his until everything else went away.
His fingers closed around hers. “I know.”
They sat there for a moment, holding hands until the tension between them grew. One would think this bit of atonement would have made things easier, but this awareness was so thick she could almost taste it.
Something had changed between them. She wasn’t certain what it meant, but she was fairly certain that, whatever it was, it was good. And if she survived dinner with Dalton, she just might get to enjoy it.
Chapter 6
After discussing it further with the others—she was trying to prove she could be a team player—Finley decided she would let Dalton see that her bruises had healed, rather than trying to re-create them with cosmetics. Her ability to heal quickly could only be seen as an advantage, especially to someone who might want to use her for violence.
She dressed in one of her sleeveless Oriental-style gowns in violet satin, embroidered with tiny red-and-gold flowers. It was flashy, but nothing a girl who lived a life of crime couldn’t afford. Over it, she hooked a flexible black satin corset that matched her square-toed boots. She put her hair up with chopsticks, darkened her eyelashes and painted a light rose color on her cheeks and lips—nothing too garish. She wanted to look like someone with aspirations of finer things, not a trollop.
Finally she dabbed a little sandalwood perfume behind her ears and on her wrists and strapped a blade around her thigh—just above the slit in her skirt. She hoped she wouldn’t need it, but even she wasn’t stupid enough to go into a lion’s den without some sort of protection other than her own fists and feet. And her head. She had an incredibly hard skull.
It was a cool evening so she took a shawl with her, though she doubted she’d need it. She tended to run a little warmer than most people. When she left her room she locked the door and slipped the key into a small pocket inside her corset—no chance of Dalton or anyone else finding it there. A key from the Waldorf-Astoria would cause suspicion. The last thing she wanted was to alert the criminal to her association with Griffin—and therefore Jasper.
Jasper. Would he be glad to see her, or had he already told Dalton who she really was? Would she be walking straight into a trap? No, she wouldn’t think that of him. Jasper was her friend, and she would do everything she could for him.
She called for the lift and took it all the way down to the main foyer, which was lit in such a manner as to flatter all the ladies—and their glittering jewels. She hadn’t fully realized when they first arrived just how fancy the hotel was. Having been a lady’s maid in two fine houses had made it easy for her to move into
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