Taming of the Beast (Scandalous Affairs #2) - Christi Caldwell Page 0,27

years earlier for not thieving, only for Tynan to have ultimately arrived at that same fate, anyway.

It didn’t matter that fear had been behind the crimes he was guilty of. A fear so burning strong years later that when he’d been presented with that first bribe, he’d latched on…seeing a small fortune to store away so that he never went back to that pathetic existence he’d once known. A means to protect his family. A person never forgot being hungry, or the uncertainty that was life.

The silence stretched agonizingly on.

“Sit, Tynan,” Lord Lothian finally murmured. “Please, sit.”

Unable to meet the older man’s gaze, Tynan cleared a stack of journals and periodicals from the dusty bench, hope took root. Mayhap coming here hadn’t been in vain, after all. Perhaps he could rely upon the benevolent Lord Lothian, benefactor of some of London’s most indolent and poor, for one last great favor. His arms filled, he glanced to the eccentric old lord.

“Just set it there, if you would.”

Tynan followed the marquess’ finger to the precariously stacked piles that built a small fortress around his shrub-covered desk.

“Yes, yes. There.”

Settling on the least-unstable-seeming place, Tynan rested the marquess’ books and then claimed that seat.

A cloud of dust immediately puffed about.

The marquess promptly sneezed, catching it with a kerchief he had close at hand. “Been remiss with the cleaning, I have.”

Tynan managed a rueful smile. “Just a tad, my lord.”

Grunting, Lord Lothian stuffed his kerchief back into his pocket. “All right. Let’s hear it, boy.”

“I need help.”

“And you think I might be able to do so?”

“I know you could.” That was, if the older gentleman wished to. If he could be fooled into once more believing there was something good about Tynan.

Pressing together fingertips stained from the soil of the gardens he so loved, Lord Lothian rested them underneath his chin and stared across at Tynan. “What do you want, Tynan?” he asked as gently as when he’d put questions to him about where he’d lived all those years earlier. Back when he’d transformed Tynan’s life. Perhaps he could persuade the older gentleman to change it.

“I want my post back,” Tynan said quietly.

Again retrieving his kerchief, he patted at the beads of moisture on his brow before swapping out that scrap for a pair of scissors. “You were charged with bribery.” He proceeded to snip away at a small potted boxwood. “And you somehow broke out of the prison, and you think to secure work in that place again?”

Tynan hadn’t broken out. He’d had his freedom secured by a bizarre slip of a woman, who’d managed to get Tynan free when no one else had even attempted to.

More the fool was she.

And here he was, hoping more the fool was Lord Lothian.

Tynan looped an ankle across his opposite knee, dispelling another small cloud of dust from the ancient leather folds. “Yes,” he said when the other man looked up and over. Tynan held his stare. “That is what I’m asking.” Without his work, he was nothing. There was no power. There was no wealth. There was no security.

Sighing, Lord Lothian paused mid-prune. “Do you know when I met you, Tynan, the one thing I noted about you?”

Tynan paused and then shook his head. Why a powerful, if eccentric, marquess had ever invested the time and money in his future had long been a source of confusion. It hadn’t made sense, but he’d been selfish enough to just take what was offered—an education, a new home for him and his sister, until Tynan was established in the world, and then ultimately the vaunted role of warden at Newgate. All those gifts had come from this man before him.

“The other children were moving through the crowd, picking pockets, and you?”

Tynan stiffened. Don’t say it. Don’t—

“Were begging.”

There it was. His body went whipcord straight. He chuckled, the sound empty and cold and devoid of all amusement. “And you think there was something honorable in that?” A poor, pathetic street pauper begging for coin to supplement the nearly nonexistent funds given the men, women, and children who toiled for endless hours in the workhouse.

“I do, and I did when I saw you. I didn’t begrudge those other children the decisions they made. After all, a society that leaves our people starving has nothing to expect but to pay the price in some way.” Lord Lothian leaned forward. “But what I saw in you that night? Was a young boy who didn’t want to engage in activities that were certainly