Taming of the Beast (Scandalous Affairs #2) - Christi Caldwell Page 0,25
her, the man whose memory alone had kept her from sleep, might in fact be—
“Something wrong with ye?” The boy moved a suspicious gaze back and forth between Faye and Daria.
Daria rammed an elbow into Faye’s side, snapping her from the shock of this latest discovery about Tynan.
Dropping to a knee, Faye smiled gently. “I’m looking for your father.”
The child cocked his head, a black curl tumbling across his deeply creased brow. “Me da? Don’t got one.”
Her mind raced. Which meant the child didn’t belong to Tynan Wylie and some unknown wife. What accounted for this sudden rush of relief? Intrigue instantly replaced her earlier surprise. “I’m looking for Mr. Wy—”
The boy promptly pushed the door shut, and it was only quick-acting Daria who prevented it from being fully shut by jamming her parasol in the rapidly narrowing opening.
The boy grunted. “Wot ye be wanting with Mr. Wylie?” he demanded through the narrow crack.
“We have an arrangement.”
“No, ye don’t. Never had any intention of honoring the deal. Took yer money, he did.”
Hmph.
She obviously knew as much. But having it so clearly laid out by this child sent a furious heat rushing to her face.
“Men,” Daria said in her usual sotto voce. “They are not to be trusted.”
Given what Faye had discovered of her own mother’s evil, she would argue that humankind in general were all terrible and both sexes undeserving of any trust. In this instance, however, there was just one scapegrace she was concerned with. She returned her attention to the little boy still peeking through that eyehole.
Pressing her face close, she squinted. “Hulllo.” Faye offered a gentle smile.
That lone eye she could make out narrowed. “Get out.” He shoved the door several more times, reaching for the parasol, but Daria was several steps ahead of him, no doubt because of the young siblings she’d experience with. She anticipated his efforts and raised it, keeping the black silk article high above his reach.
Faye sank back on her haunches. So much for attempting to win over the child. He insisted he wasn’t Tynan’s child, and yet, what exactly was the relationship between him and this boy that accounted for such a level of loyalty?
She made another try. “I do not wish Mr. Wylie ill,” she rushed to assure him. “I just wish to wait here until he arrives. So that I can”—light into him—“speak with him,” she opted for.
“’E don’t want to see ye.”
So they’d spoken of Faye and her dealings with him. “Yes, well, I want to see him,” she said through a tight smile.
“Don’t care what ye want.” The boy shoved his hip against the door, rattling the parasol, but also failing to knock it loose.
Just then, Daria stretched her spare hand over Faye’s head.
Faye looked up.
“We come with treats,” her friend said, wagging the small velvet sack.
There were several beats of silence.
“I keep them for bribing purposes,” Daria explained from the corner of her mouth. “Eris,” she added, as in the young woman’s younger sister of five years.
“Ahh.” Eris positively terrified Faye.
“Wot kind of treats?” the child finally asked, his voice gruff. That question came as though pulled physically from him.
“Peppermint.” Daria paused. “And lemon drops.”
When he made no immediate move to open the panel, Daria drew the bag back. Loosening the strings, she fished around inside and then withdrew a teardrop-shaped yellow treat. With a flourish, she popped it into her mouth.
On the other side of the door, the boy quietly mumbled something to himself.
A moment later, he jerked the door open. This time, the glare he gave them proved positively glacial. “Well, get on with it.”
Springing into motion, Faye and Daria filed inside.
As he shoved the door shut and locked it behind them, Faye lowered her hood and did a search, more than half expecting to find Tynan hovering in the shadows.
Her heart knocked wildly against her rib cage in anticipation—
“Told ye ’e ain’t ’ere,” the boy snapped.
Of course, she should have known better. He did not strike her as the manner of man to hide behind a child. But then again, one never knew.
Tynan’s unlikely partner stuck a tiny, dirt-stained palm out. “The treats?” he demanded.
Daria placed the bag in his open hand.
Much the way Poppy’s pups pounced upon a bone from the evening meal, the child devoured the treats, stuffing several lemon drops all at once into his mouth until his cheeks looked puffy.
Her heart pulled, and Faye strove to keep her features even lest he take her expression as pitying.