Taming of the Beast (Scandalous Affairs #2) - Christi Caldwell Page 0,28

more lucrative, acts that would more quickly and more surely put coin in your pockets. You were honorable.”

“Those acts weren’t ones of honor,” he said coolly. “You’re marking more of it than there ever was.”

“I cannot help you, Tynan,” the other man said regretfully, promptly killing the hope that had compelled Tynan here after his release and after his meeting with Miss Faye Poplar. “If there was an assurance that you can be different…”

“And what if I give you those assurances?” Tynan asked.

A twinkle lit the marquess’ eyes. “As in lie to me? Because that is what it would be. You’re not yet ready to correct your ways, but neither do I believe you’ll feed me falsehoods.”

The philanthropic lord still had faith in Tynan. Faith that he was in some way capable of some good.

Just not the amount that Tynan was in need of.

“If you might prove yourself…”

“Good?” Tynan forced a cold chuckle. If that was what the marquess was expecting, then Tynan was all out of hope of further generosity where Lord Lothian was concerned.

“Ah, but you’ve always been good, my boy. You’ve just… lost your way.” There was an air of sadness to the marquess’ words, as if that reminder was as much for him as for Tynan.

Frustration brought Tynan to his feet. “I thank you for the audience,” he said tersely. “And I appreciate everything you did.” Before now. With that, Tynan headed for the door.

“Tynan?”

He paused, hope flaring to life as he turned back to face the man who’d plucked him out of that godforsaken workhouse and given him a taste of a life he’d no damned intention of losing.

Standing, Lord Lothian stretched a hand out toward him. “If you do find your way, then, please know you might come, and I will help you in any way I am able.”

Just like that, hope withered and died on the fragile vine it had sprung upon. He bowed his head. “That, Lord Lothian, would require me to be lost. I’m not.” Tynan knew precisely what he was and had set himself on a very deliberate course toward power and strength. With that, he quit the marquess’ Grosvenor Square residence and headed to what would be his temporary place of lodging—a modest house he’d kept for some of those he’d employed over the years.

The marquess’ rejection added to the frustration swirling in his gut and followed him along his ride through London’s fashionable end and onward to the darker, dirtier streets he’d been born to. His lips quirked at the irony. He’d come full circle. There’d been no doubt in his mind that Lord Lothian would intervene on his behalf. He’d done so time and time again through the years.

And oddly, now, freed from Newgate, he was even further away from the only goal that mattered.

He’d lost absolutely everything.

Nay, that wasn’t altogether accurate.

He stroked the withers of his mount. Thanks to the undeserved fealty from Finn, who’d fought to keep and care for his horse while Tynan was locked up, he still had the horse Lord Lothian had gifted him almost ten years earlier.

The moment he returned home and stabled his horse, exhaustion settled in.

He wanted nothing more than to find bedchambers, shut the door, and sleep, and then awaken with a new plan.

Alas, it appeared rest would have to wait.

For he’d apparently arrived at the wrong damned place. There was no other accounting for the swell of laughter coming from within the modest residence.

It was a sound so foreign for the simple reason that, in these parts, there wasn’t a place for it.

People in this end of London didn’t express that mirth or amusement because, well, frankly, there was nothing to be amused by.

Another chorus of laughter went up from behind that oak panel. A child’s high-pitched squeal blended with a tinkling, bell-like sound so pure, and clear, and unrestrained that Tynan froze.

A memory slipped in, so distant it had almost been forgotten.

Him racing about as his mother chased him.

Their amusement—perhaps the last amusement he’d known since her passing years earlier—echoed in the far chambers of his mind, melding with the very real mirth playing out on the other side of that door.

His lips pulling in a grimace, Tynan shook his head hard. It had been years since he’d thought of his mother. His mother whose body had given out from the hard work before Lord Lothian had come along and changed Tynan’s life for the better. More specifically, it had been years since he’d recalled those