“Brushing dirt from his coat, Sam ignored the wild-eyed looks the other three gave him. Surely a house like this had enough staff to clean up a little dirt?“And who is this young man?” the old lady demanded.Sam opened his mouth to reply, but froze when he saw just who the old woman was.“May I present Sam Morgan, Your Highness,” Griffin said.Bloody hell. It was Queen Victoria. They’d just burrowed their way into Buckingham Palace.”

“She refused to leave your side all bloody night", Sam remarked, with something that sounded like respect."She's a good friend," Griffin replied.His old friend stared at him in amused disgust. "Griff, I'm your friend and even I wasn't about to sit here and watch you heal."Griffin looked away, annoyed by the sudden heat in his cheeks. "Yes, well, she was a much prettier sight to wake up to than your ugly head.""I'll have you know I've been told my eyes are like a night sky," came the mock-indignant reply.”

“Then, like a scene in a comedy - their lips but a breath away from touching - the door to the library burst open and Sam charged into the room like a bull, a map in his hands and Jasper hot on his heels.Bloody hell, they had brilliant timing.”

“Griffin!” Finley cried. She moved to attack the automaton, but Sam stopped her. “Wait. Griff’s got a plan.”“How do you know?” she demanded.Sam and Jasper both looked at her with bemused expressions. “Griff’s always got a plan,” Jasper informed her, as though it was absolute fact.”

“Blokes are different from girls," Sam informed her - still scowling. "We don't need to talk about every little thing. You don't hear me whining when I break a nail."Finley's own brows pulled together. "Do you ever think before you open your mouth?""Did I offend your delicate sensibilities?" Sam asked sweetly.”

“Finley’s head jerked up. Griffin King. The Duke of Greythorne. She had overheard Lady Alyss discussing him with several of her friends just last week. They said he was handsome, rich beyond understanding and had a nice bottom.”

“Slowly, Finley rose from the sofa, tilted her head back and looked him dead in the eye. “I have no desire to be any more in your debt than I already am.”He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Would it make you more comfortable if I demanded something in return? Would that put you at ease?”When he put it like that, it made her sound like an awful sort of person for thinking the worst. “It would, yes. At least that would be honest.”It might have been laughter that came scoffing from his throat, but there was little humor in it. He shook his head, the light reflecting glints of russet in his hair. “I’d like to meet whomever it was who made you so distrusting and pull his teeth out one by one.”The vehemence in his tone startled her, yet was strangely warming. “’Twas more than just one.”His face darkened, like clouds overtaking the sun. Suddenly, this was no longer just some seemingly kind, bored aristocrat standing before her, but a young man capable of many dangerous things.”