Taming of the Beast (Scandalous Affairs #2) - Christi Caldwell Page 0,64

up and made a show of writing in her notebook. Daria would defend him so strenuously. And yet, there is an element of truth to what she suggests. Tynan could have easily rejected her outright. There was nothing she could to do compel him. Not truly. As her friend had pointed out, the moment she’d helped free him from prison, she’d ultimately provided him with his freedom. Had he wished to disappear, or tell her to shove off, he could have done so, and there would have been absolutely nothing she could have done to bring him around to assisting her with her work.

Stop. You’re merely seeing what you want to see. You want to believe he is somehow different than what he’s proven to be.

“Did you even stop to ask him why he was there?” Daria asked with her usual persistence. She’d not let this go.

“No,” Faye said. “Why else would he be there?”

“I don’t know.” Daria smiled. “As you didn’t ask him.”

There came a faint scratch at the window, and both women looked up just as the panels swung open.

Matching gasps exploded from the both of them, and they jumped to their feet just as a child launched himself inside, landing on his feet with a soft thump.

Nay, not just any child.

“Finn?” Faye exclaimed, racing to meet the little boy.

Daria came close at her heels, pushing the windows shut even as errant snowflakes danced their final descent onto her floor.

“Are you all—?”

“Yea, I’m fine,” he muttered. His cheeks, already stained red from the cold winter air, deepened another shade at her worrying.

Rushing over to the tray of Cook’s pastries, Faye fetched the boy a chocolate biscuit.

He eyed it for a moment and then grabbed it with eager fingers and filled his mouth with the confectionary treat.

Both women waited while he then consumed a second offering. When he’d finished, Finn wiped the back of his sleeve over his sugar-stained mouth, leaving a trail of powdery white upon his jacket.

Faye went down on a knee. “Are you in trouble?” she gently prodded.

He glared at Faye. “As in, did Mr. Wylie do something to ’urt me?”

“I didn’t say—”

“Because he didn’t. ’E’s a good one. And Oi expected better of you than to judge Mr. Wylie. You don’t know him.”

Over the top of the child’s tousled curls, she caught Daria’s I-told-you-so gaze. Faye returned her attention to the boy.

“Finn,” she began. “I understand your loyalty to Mr. Wylie—”

“No, you don’t,” he said bluntly. “Ye think ye do. Ye think ye’re so open-minded and unlike the others because ye talk to people like me and Wylie, but ye judge us just the same.”

“I have n—” Except, was the boy entirely wrong in his accusations? On the heels of that, she found herself. “My experience with Mr. Wylie has not been the same as yours,” she said with a gentle firmness. She’d not shatter the illusion.

“Because he took yer fifty pounds?” he said flatly, entirely too astute for one of his tender years. “And didn’t tell ye where ’e was goin’?” Finn didn’t wait for her confirmation. “Well, people loike us ’ave every reason not to trust people loike ye.” He nodded between her and Daria. “An’ with good reason.”

The child lifted his chin, mutinous in his defense. “Oi ’ad me garments taken from me, Oi did. The minute he was sent to Newgate, there was no one around to protect me. An’ when ’e came back, Oi didn’t serve a purpose for ’im the way I did when ’e was warden, and that didn’t matter to ’im. Still looking after me anyway.”

Heat filled her heart. It was that side of Tynan Wylie she didn’t know what to make of, a man who helped the most vulnerable children when the majority of the most powerful, wealthy lords in England turned away from the plight of the downtrodden.

“An’… ’e didn’t ’ave anything to do with attackin’ ye.” He glared at her. “’E did, ’owever, ’ave something to do with savin’ ye.”

Guilt whirled in her breast. But right behind that sentiment was the same suspicion Tynan had instilled within her. “Mr. Wylie has been good to you and helped you, and as such, he is deserving of your loyalty.” That slight emphasis she placed on that particular word.

“Ye sisters?” he asked suddenly, looking at Daria.

“No. We’re friends, but as close as sisters.”

The other young lady nodded in an emphatic confirmation.

“When ye ’ave family, ye do anything for them. Even bad things. Ye’ll lie. Whatever ye ’ave