The Wolf with the Iron Jaw (Elysium #1)

Chapter Nine

 Trinket slipped out of the house early the next morning under the guise of shopping for breakfast, but in truth, she was trying to buy herself more time before she had to face Booker. Though she knew she'd been out of line in how she had acted the night before, she couldn't deny feeling justified in her outrage.

"You're a maid," she mumbled to herself. "It's not your place to question him. You just need to be good. Remember, you're only a servant."

And yet that righteous indignation still festered inside of her.

After picking up bacon from the butcher and purchasing some new teas and a jar of honey from the tea shop, she wandered through the city center and prepared herself for the inevitable confrontation with Booker. What would he say to her? What would she say to him? Would he dismiss her? And if he did, where would she go? What would she do?

As she contemplated her dilemma, she spotted Gin weaving her way through the bustling crowd. Her hair was stuffed under her bowler hat, which cast a shadow over her face. A fashionable couple passed by the urchin, and with a fluid, almost unperceivable motion, she pulled a pocket watch from the man's coat and slipped it into her own oversized jacket. Turning to flee in the opposite direction, she froze when she caught sight of Trinket watching her. The girl's eyes widened momentarily before she ducked her head down and darted towards her.

"That would be called stealing," Trinket whispered teasingly when the girl was within earshot.

"Yeah, well, out here it's called surviving," Gin said, glancing about nervously. "I reckon you're gonna turn me in?"

Trinket gave a soft smile. "No, I'm not."

Gin's eyebrows went up. "You aren't?"

Shaking her head, Trinket replied, "No. I have no right to judge you. I'm not in your situation. Who's to say that if I were I wouldn't do the very same thing?"

With a disbelieving laugh, Gin said, "You're not half-bad, lady. So what, Booker ain't here with you?"

At the mention of the callous doctor's name, anger and anxiety flared up in Trinket's chest again. "No, I'm just picking up supplies. The master of the house doesn't typically accompany his housemaid on her errands."

"No, but Booker isn't a typical master of the house."

"You are right about that."

Trinket glanced at the little urchin, and a thought began to form in her mind. Well, more like a scheme that might delay the conversation with Booker she knew was coming. At least for an hour or so.

"Say, Gin," she said. "Would you like to have breakfast with us? There's more than enough."

Gin narrowed her eyes. "I don't take charity."

"It's not charity. It's an invitation to a friend of my employer. You are Booker's friend, are you not?"

Averting her gaze in uncharacteristic shyness, the urchin cleared her throat. "I don't know that what we are is friends exactly. I do his dirty work for him and he helps me out where I need it."

Trinket shrugged. "You seem like friends to me. But that's fine. If you'd rather not, then I'll be on my way."

Turning away, she headed in the direction of home. She couldn't help but smile as she heard Gin's soft footsteps chasing after her. Glancing over her shoulder, she found the girl scowling at her back.

"Well, as long as it's not charity, there's no point in passing up a good meal," she mumbled.

When they reached the house, Trinket brought Gin inside and took her dirty coat. "You're welcome to go wait in the parlour," she said to the urchin as she hung both of their coats up. "Booker's probably downstairs. I'm sure he'll be up shortly."