Kady Cross - The Girl with the Windup Heart

“Yes. Hopefully for the last time.” But first, she was going to have to take on Felix. She couldn’t risk him coming for her when she was trying to focus on Garibaldi, and she couldn’t let those poor girls go on as they were any longer. It didn’t matter that he had made them monsters—they hadn’t started out that way.

His fingers brushed against her cheek. “You are the most beautiful, bravest girl I’ve ever known.”

She blushed. “You don’t get out much.”

Griffin chuckled. “I get out plenty. One of those times I happened to hit a girl with my velocycle.”

“That’s one way to get her attention.”

He grinned. “Do you reckon it was a bit much?”

“It might have been a little excessive, yes.” She returned the smile. “Though some girls need a good cosh on the head to make them realize a good thing when they see it.”

“Well, I am pretty impressive.”

Finley laughed and rubbed her cheek against his hand. “Indeed.”

“How are the others?”

“Fine last time I saw them. Emily and Sam are fretting over you—both of us. Jasper and Wildcat are helping Jack.”

“With what?”

“Apparently Mila ran off.”

“What?” He struggled to sit up. “What did that lunatic do to her?”

“Griffin!” A hand on his chest kept him from exerting himself too much. “Be nice.”

He sighed, reclining against the cushions. “What did that lovely bloke Jack do to instigate her departure?”

A little smile curved her lips. Griff always wanted to think the worst of Jack. This was one of the times his jealousy was adorable rather than vexing. “I’m thinking it might have been something he didn’t do instead.”

His expression went from annoyed confusion to horror. “Don’t tell me she’s in love with him. Oh, the poor creature.”

“She’s a girl, not a creature.”

“I know. She’s a dear girl. Too sweet for Dandy.”

“Or maybe just sweet enough to be exactly what Jack needs.”

He eyed her rather closely. She knew exactly what he was looking for. “You’re not jealous?”

Oddly enough, she didn’t have to think about it, because sitting there with him, feeling how happy she was just to see Griffin’s face, she didn’t begrudge Jack the opportunity to feel the same happiness. “Not at all.” She leaned in to kiss him again, but was stopped by a tug in her stomach.

“Are you all right?” Griffin asked, his hands clasping her shoulders.

“I don’t know.” Another tug. She pressed a hand to her stomach. “I feel odd.”

“Emily’s pulling you out.”

She met his gaze. “How do you know?” Another tug. Much more of this and she was going to vomit.

“You’re fading,” he explained.

She reached for him, not ready to leave him just yet, but her fingers passed right through him. “I don’t want to leave you!” She didn’t know if he heard her because one last tug pulled her free of that world and sent her crashing back into the world of the living.

Finley never thought she’d see a day when she’d be annoyed to be alive.

“Have you seen this?” Jasper tossed the afternoon newspaper on the desk in front of Jack, who had no choice but to look at it, because it landed directly on the ledger he’d been balancing.

The headline read Mysterious Heroine Lifts Carriage with Bare Hands! Heroic Girl Saves Driver And Passengers.

Jack swore. The photograph was grainy and shot in profile, but he’d know Mila anywhere. Just the sight of her made his heart skip a beat—even if she had done something so foolish as to call attention to herself. Look at her, rescuing people. Risking her own safety but revealing her abilities because someone needed help. Noble, but the bloody foolish chit was going to end up poked and prodded by the Royal Society if she wasn’t careful. They called themselves scientists, but anyone who’d slice open a body just to see how it worked was not to be trusted.

Damnation, but it was good to see her. The relief he felt at knowing that she was all right was a tangible thing, spinning happily in his gut.

He took another look at the photograph, at everything that wasn’t his girl. “That’s the house we visited yesterday.”

“Yup.” The cowboy sat on the edge of the desk. “Seems you were right—that pretty lady knew more than she wanted to share. You see those girls there in the background? They’re not right clear, but Cat says those Siamese twins are Pick-a-dilly Circus performers.”

“Interesting.” Jack leaned back in his chair. He was slightly giddy all of a sudden. “Why do you suppose they’re called Siamese twins?”

“No idea whatsoever.”

“They don’t look like they’re from Siam.”

“Dandy, what are you jabberin’ on about?”

Jack tossed the paper aside with a disgusted sigh. He was being an idiot, avoiding what was really bothering him. “I should have pushed that woman yesterday. I should have used my powers of persuasion on her.”

“You said yourself it wouldn’t have done any good. Mila isn’t ready to be found just yet.”

No, but he was ready to find her. Damn this letting her spread her wings and see something of the world. She belonged there with him, not gadding about rescuing people left, right and center. She was his special girl, and he wasn’t about to share her with all of bloody London. Wasn’t going to allow her to be a freak on display.

“Cat also says that the circus is lookin’ for a new performer. She reckons the girls will take Mila to meet the owner if she’s keen on joining up. That sound about right to you?”

There weren’t enough curse words to aptly describe his mood at that moment. “Oh, yes. It certainly does.” Mila had no concept of what sort of people there were in the world who would love to manipulate a girl like her. She’d see only kindness and adventure. The moment she stepped into that ring she’d be a target for any and all who would prey upon her. He understood that she needed to do this, that it was his own fault she’d run off, but he’d be damned if she’d suffer for it.

“Would Cat be inclined to talk to her sister? If Mila sees you, me or Wildcat, she’s likely to bolt.” Maybe not, but he doubted she’d jump into his arms and beg to come home either. He wanted to let her come back on her own, not push her further away.

“She’s already gone off to pay her a visit.” There was a pause—an expectant one. “Can I ask you a question?”

Jack leaned back in his chair. “I suppose.”

“Why don’t you just go talk to the girl?” He tossed a paperweight into the air and caught it. “Tell her you were wrong and ask her to come home. Simple.”

“Nothing’s ever simple where women are concerned, Renn. A fellow your age ought to have learned that lesson by now.”

The cowboy arched a brow, but didn’t take the bait. “Will you look at that. Jack Dandy’s afraid of a little girl.”

Jack folded his hands over his stomach. “That little girl could snap you like a twig, and I am not afraid of her.”

“Huh.” Renn obviously wasn’t convinced. However, Jack wasn’t going to swing at his bait either.

“Any word on how Finley’s doing getting her duke back?”

“Apparently there’s going to be a séance or something. You mind if Cat and I go?”

It was a testament to what a bizarre world he lived in that Jack didn’t even blink at the word séance. “You’re not my employees. You can do as you wish.”

Arms folded over his chest, the cowboy watched him—studied him. He must be one hell of a card player, because there wasn’t even the smallest hint of an expression on his face. If only Jack had gotten to him before King had, because he could use such a fellow from time to time.

“What is it, Renn?”

“You’re an interesting man, Mr. Dandy.” His tone was perfectly blank, as well.

“I try.”

“I don’t trust interesting men.”

“A wise choice. We are very often untrustworthy.”

A pause. Then, Renn said, “Your daddy’s a lord ain’t he?”

Fortunately, Jack was a bloody good card player, as well. “What makes you think that?”

“The way you hold yourself and the way you talk. It reminds me of Griffin.”

“I’m nothing like the Duke of Greythorne.” Griffin King was an honorable prig who wouldn’t say “shite” if he had a mouthful of it. He was all morally upstanding and all that muck. He wasn’t even remotely interesting.

“All right.” The American stood. “You want me to go have a chat with the photographer who took her picture?”

No need to say her name. “No, leave him to me.”

“Right, those powers of persuasion you have?”

Jack smiled. “Something like that.” As Renn turned to walk away, Jack called after him, “You said I should just talk to her. If it was Wildcat, what would you say?”

“That I was sorry and that I wanted her to come back home.”

“I have to say, that’s disappointing. Aren’t you American’s all about grand gestures?”

The cowboy grinned. “It ain’t what you say, Dandy. It’s why you’re sayin’ it. Women don’t want a bunch of fancy words, they want emotion—action.”

His assessment irked Jack. It made sense, damn it. “Have a lot of experience with the ladies, do you?”

“Depends on your idea of experience. Notice I’m not the one of us who spends most of my nights alone.”

“I can have company whenever I want, Renn. Don’t think I can’t.”

The cowboy paused at the door. “You could have five women in your bed and you’d still be alone, Jack.” He didn’t wait for Jack’s reply, just opened the door and walked out, leaving Jack staring after him. Bloody American didn’t know what he was talking about.