Taming of the Beast (Scandalous Affairs #2) - Christi Caldwell Page 0,59

have either missed a step or come to a damned stop at the frost in that query.

Faye didn’t so much as break stride. “I’m going after Finn. He was upset. He shouldn’t be rushing off alone.”

He shouldn’t—

He briefly closed his eyes and counted to five.

It didn’t help.

“He shouldn’t be rushing off alone?” he thundered.

Tynan reached her.

“Yes, that is what I said. He shouldn’t.” Pursing her mouth, she stuck her parasol out, jabbing the end into his chest. “I do not like your tone, Mr. Wylie.”

“You don’t like my…”

“Tone. It is the way one speaks.” With her spare hand, she pointed to the right corner of her mouth, as if she thought he didn’t know where damned words came from. “A vocal sound with reference to its pitch, quality, and strength.”

He rocked back on his heels. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head hard. “That is precisely what a tone is—”

“I know what a goddamned tone is,” he bellowed. His shout boomed and echoed around the Rookeries, rising above some other errant cries from others warring in these parts. “What are you even doing here?”

This managed to bring Faye up quick. “What am I doing here? I was going to meet Mr. Oswyn. I decided, given the limited time you’ve allowed me, that I need to be efficient.”

Efficient. As in setting out alone in East London on her own? Tynan briefly closed his eyes. She was going to get herself killed. Or worse. And the people here would gladly kill a fine lady like her. When he opened his eyes, he infused ice into them and pinned a hard gaze on her.

“Are you mad?” he asked when he trusted himself to speak.

“I am”—she knocked the tip of her parasol onto the cobblestones—“furious.”

If he weren’t still all turned upside down inside at having realized how close she’d come to finding herself in real danger, he would have laughed. “I meant off your head, Faye.”

The lady tensed that rosebud mouth of hers, those crimson lips pinched in disapproval. “Are you done?”

“Am I done?”

“You do know you’re doing a good deal of repeating yourself.”

He was. Which he never did. Because he was Tynan Wylie, Beast of Newgate and master of self-control and—

“I do not repeat myself,” he barked.

She patted his hand. “Perhaps not usually. But I would be remiss if I failed to point out that you, Tynan, are doing a good deal of it now.”

Because of her. For whatever reason, she had that effect on him.

“Because of me?” she repeated, confirming he’d committed an unforgivable transgression of speaking aloud to himself. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. Our relationship is still too new for me to be certain about the nuances of your—”

“We don’t have a relationship,” he snapped. Relationships were perilous. It was why he kept the secrets he did, because the moment people in these parts learned there was a person who made you vulnerable, they pounced and made those people their prey.

Faye flashed a beatific and innocent smile. “If that is the case, Mr. Wylie, please step out of my way so I might go about my business.” She tapped her parasol on the cobblestones with a little click, click, click.

The fear of seeing her accosted at last lifted, and he welcomed the swirling of different and safer emotions—frustration and fury. “What the hell are you doing now, Faye?” he exploded.

She adjusted the bag on her shoulder. “I told you,” she said, exasperation rich in her voice. “I am going after—”

“Finn can handle himself. Now, you, on the other hand…”

Faye gasped. “How dare you?”

“I dare quite easily. First, you won’t. Finn can’t be found by you or anyone. Not unless he wants to be found.” He closed the handful of steps between them, and she quickly retreated to keep that space and held her parasol up once more. Overtaking that measly distance, he gently, but firmly, lowered the frilly article to her side, that same piece she’d used in her battle against Bragger. And the fresh memory of coming upon the fighter and realizing he’d cornered Faye briefly paralyzed his thoughts, and a coldness suffused his chest.

“Do you not have the sense given a damned fly to realize the danger you face every single damned time you come here?” he whispered. She opened her mouth, but he spoke over her. “Can you at least see why you don’t come to these parts? Why you don’t deal with the people who dwell here?” Himself included among those ignoble ranks. Taking