Taming of the Beast (Scandalous Affairs #2) - Christi Caldwell Page 0,47

that slab of thin wood functioning as a panel, along with slightly slurred mutterings.

The door opened quickly.

Whatever she’d expected of the person she’d be meeting, this hadn’t been it.

Almost two full inches shorter than Faye, he was a tiny bit of a man whose brawny muscles seemed at odds with his diminutive frame.

“Wot do ye want, duck?” he demanded in a deep, booming cockney better suited to a bigger, wider man.

Faye cleared her throat. “If I might beg a moment of your—”

“No.” He made to slam the door in her face.

Just then, however, the stranger’s gaze slid past her, and then his eyes went instantly wide. He whistled softly through his teeth. “Well, well, well. Back from the dead, ye are.”

Faye followed his suddenly reverent focus to Tynan who, during her unsuccessful exchange with the fellow, had moved closer. Tynan inclined his head, flashing a grin. “As though my Newgate could or would ever kill me, Colb,” he said.

The little man stepped aside, suddenly completely welcoming.

Faye made to enter when the man, Colb, blocked her path. “She yers?”

“I’m not altogether certain whom she belongs to,” Tynan confessed.

Colb looped his thumbs in the front of his waistband. “Ah. One of those?”

“Indeed. One of those,” Tynan confirmed.

One of those? Faye puzzled her brow. What in blazes were they talking about, and furthermore, how many dealings had Tynan had with other ladies, and third of all, why should she care? But she did. For reasons she didn’t understand.

“Either way, she is certainly not mine,” Tynan was saying.

Well, that was really enough. Faye bristled. “And a good thing for it,” she said, unable to keep the indignation from her quick retort. “I know better than to fall for one such as… as… him.” Her face flamed hot. And here she was, seething with jealousy as she imagined him working with other women who’d come before her.

Tynan leaned in and spoke on a ridiculously loud conspiratorial whisper for the other man’s benefit. “But she does not know better than to deal with the devil of Newgate.”

Colb chuckled, that rumble of mirth as low and deep as his speaking voice.

Faye resisted an overwhelming urge to stamp her foot and shriek. “Furthermore, I do not belong to anyone. Even if I had a sweetheart, which I don’t,” she added, “I would still remain my own person. And that sweetheart, as I said, wouldn’t be Mr. Wylie.” You said that already, you ninny.

Both men stared back at her with like horror, and Faye promptly closed her mouth.

“Uh… right,” Mr. Colb said, scratching at his head. “Come in before ye get yerself stuck again.” He stepped aside.

As they entered, Tynan whispered against her ear, “Methinks you doth protest too hard, sweetheart.” That endearment, along with his husky murmuring, sent a delicious shiver along the sensitive portion of her nape.

Of course he would have not only noted but called her out for that. “Oh, hush,” she muttered, grateful for the dim lighting that concealed her blush. “It was an important point that required stressing.”

He chuckled, and then with an infuriatingly seductive wink, he joined Mr. Colb.

While the two men spoke, Faye took in the stranger’s abode.

The one-room residence, serving as a kitchen, parlor, and bedchambers, was made of dirt that left a lingering cloud of dust upon the low-ceilinged household. The hearth sat barren.

There was a level of poverty to this household that she’d never before witnessed. And, shamefully, had never known of. Not even in her family’s most dire days had they known a hint of the struggle that descended to this level of poverty.

She slid her gaze over to Tynan. Tynan, who gave no indication that anything about the crumbling structure was out of the ordinary. He spoke to Mr. Colb with an ease. He was at ease speaking to anyone of any station. Had Tynan’s existence been similar to this man’s? The idea of it wrenched her heart all the more.

As if he felt her stare, Tynan looked over. “Isn’t that right, Miss Pilman?”

Her mind stumbled and struggled to catch up. What had they been speaking about? And… Pilman? She made to correct him. “Miss P—”

He gave her a sharp, warning look.

Of course. She could hardly go about using her given name. She knew as much.

“I was explaining to Mr. Colb that you have questions, isn’t that right?” Tynan said, and she gave thanks for that lifeline.

“Yes! Questions. I… have them,” she finished weakly.

Motioning to the lone table, which had only two chairs, Tynan took up a