The Experimental Murders (Elysium #2)

The Broken One (Part II)

But none of these ideas seemed right, and he soon grew tired of finding no answers. Heaving a sigh, he returned upstairs where he found Trinket in the kitchen warming up crumpets and boiling water.

"Ah, it fits," he said, taking in the silk dress she was wearing. "A tad large, perhaps. Still, I'm happy to see I wasn't too far off in my measurements."

"I thank you for your generosity, Mr. Larkin. However, it really wasn't necessary," she said as she scooped the crumpets up and placed them on a plate. "It's a beautiful dress, but I don't know how practical it will be for scrubbing floors and cleaning pots and pans."

"As I told you yesterday, I don't want you to do any hard labor until your leg has healed. Besides, this is only a temporary outfit. We'll go to the tailor today and order new dresses. When they come in, he can fit this one to your actual measurements."

"Mr. Larkin, I cannot allow you to spend any more money on me."

"You can't? Why not?"

She hesitated. Did she suspect him of ulterior motives? Granted, he always had ulterior motives. But the uneasiness in her expression suggested fear of more sinister motives. What were his motives, though? Why was he so eager to assist this young woman?

He quirked an eyebrow. "I'm not a philanthropist, my dear. You seem to be under the impression that I'm either doing this out of the goodness of my heart or because of some carnal desire."

She swallowed and averted her gaze.

"I assure you, Miss Trinket," he continued, "that while I am not a cad, I'm most certainly not a saint. I'm doing all of this to make it easier for you to perform your duties, which, in turn, will make my life easier. See? It all benefits me in some way."

Trinket met his eyes, and he hoped that she could not see his own uncertainty as to why he was so willing to spend money on a young woman he knew absolutely nothing about. Maybe it was the mystery that had him so eager to keep her around. Or maybe it was the tea. Still, he didn't need her to know all of that. It would only give her leverage against him.

He took a bite of a crumpet. "Besides, my home is not set up for housing females, if you haven't noticed. My other maids brought their own accessories. I have not the slightest clue what you may require in your day-to-day life. I'm a good employer, Miss Trinket. I supply my help with what they need."

After staring at him for a moment longer, she picked up the plate of crumpets and raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't the employer wait for the maid to formally serve breakfast?"

Sassy little thing. Nodding, he wiped his hands clean. "Very true. I will do as I should and wait in the dining room."

He headed into the dining room via the door connected to the kitchen and settled into a chair at the table. It wasn't very often that he ate breakfast, never mind in this particular room. If he did eat at home, it was in the parlour or the laboratory. It was a rather nice dining room. Untouched and a tad dusty, but lovely all the same. He had to say, he had good taste in decor.

Pulling out a small notebook from his pocket, he flipped through the pages and went over his theories about the Wolf. It had to be from Benedict. Who else would even think of creating an animal with metal teeth? And who else would have the skills to bring such an idea to life? Only two people. Him and Benedict.

Which meant Benedict had to be here.

Just the thought of his old friend and rival being nearby sent jolts of electricity through his veins. He'd never been so close to finding him before. He could almost taste success.

Booker was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't hear Trinket enter the dining room. As she placed the crumpets and tea on the table, he put his notebook aside and motioned to the chair across from him. "Please, sit," he said, snatching up a crumpet.