The Girl With the Iron Touch Read Online Free

cheeks. Oh, good Lord, she was blushing! Blast him for embarrassing her. She raised her chin. “I’m not mistress of anything. I was just being polite.”
    He held her gaze—longer than was proper. It wasn’t what he’d said that bothered her, but rather that he’d said it in front of the others. What she felt for Griffin was…private. Calling attention to it was very unEnglish of him.
    And made her very aware that perhaps Jack’s feelings for her were still much deeper than friendship.
    “My mistake,” Jack conceded, his voice soft. “Tea would be lovely, thank you.”
    It wasn’t the first time he’d dropped that awful affectation of his in front of her. Doubtful that the others even heard him, especially Sam and Emily, who were having their own conversation, er…argument.
    “Have a seat,” she said, and rang the bell for a fresh pot and another cup.
    Finley didn’t speak to him while they waited for the tea, but her silence wasn’t because she didn’t know what to say—it was because Jack had gone straight to Jasper, leaving her standing by herself. Her hearing was exceptional, but she couldn’t eavesdrop on Sam and Emily and his conversation with the cowboy.
    For a moment, despite being in this beautiful house as someone who belonged there, Finley was struck by the feelings of being an outsider that had plagued her for most of her life.
    She did not like it.
    “Oi!” she cried. All eyes turned to her, but her gaze was on Jack. Perhaps she was a little mad—certainly her mind seemed to be scattered lately—but she couldn’t stand to be left out, not just by Griffin, but by everyone else. “You said you had information?”
    Jack arched a brow at her bad manners. It took all of her strength not to look away. “Quite,” he said, moving toward the sofa. The others closed in, too, and seated themselves around the room just as fresh tea and sandwiches arrived.
    Finley poured Jack a cup, fixed it how he liked it and offered it to him. She did not meet his gaze—the bounder already understood her too well.
    “You certain ’is Lordship ain’t available?”
    “Decidedly,” Emily replied, setting a strange contraption on the tea table in front of Jack. “Would you mind if I record you, Mr. Dandy?”
    “Call me Jack, darling. All the pretty girls call me Jack.”
    Finley rolled her eyes.
    Emily grinned at him, bright eyes sparkling. “No doubt they call you many things, some of which they might even repeat in polite company.”
    “You come here to talk or to flirt?” Sam demanded.
    Jack smiled. “Unlike you, mate, I’m able to do two fings at once.” He winked at Emily before turning to Finley. “Somefin strange ’appened Thursday last— somefin I reckon you lot will find very interesting.”
    Finley perched on the edge of the sofa near Emily and waited for him to elaborate. Instead, Jack picked up his cup and saucer and took a sip. He didn’t even slurp. Then, he reached out and took a little cucumber sandwich off the tray and proceeded to eat it with better manners than she expected.
    When he moved to take another sandwich, she pushed the plate just out of his reach. “Talk first. Eat later, Jack.”
    His gaze narrowed, but there was a twinkle in his eye. “You’ve become cruel, Treasure. An ’eartless minx what delights in denyin’ a man ’is proper tea. A little suspense is good for the digestion.”
    Was everything a joke to him? Yes, she supposed it was. To be Jack Dandy was to treat every day as a novelty and to never take anything—himself included— too seriously.
    Still, he had to take some things seriously—he wouldn’t have a reputation as a lord of the criminal underworld without having done something to deserve it.
    It was a battle of wills, one she knew she wouldn’t win—not before the others decided to toss her out the window. She pushed the plate toward him. “I would hate to discombobulate your digestion.”
    He flashed straight white teeth and snatched