length of the alley toward the front entryway.
“Halt,” he called.
Faye didn’t so much as break stride. “No.”
His jaw slipped a fraction. “No?” he echoed dumbly. No.
Of course, she would have had to be near him to have heard him. But she wasn’t. The lady was singularly intent on her march, as intent to enter his damned household as he was to have her gone.
Breaking into a jog, Tynan started after her.
He caught up with her just as she reached the steps to the door. “What the hell do you think you are doing, Faye?” he bit out.
“I’m accepting an invitation, Mr. Wylie,” she said as she climbed the handful of stone steps to the no-doubt-modest-to-her townhouse.
“An invitation,” he repeated, taking the stairs two at a time so that he beat her to the landing. “A damned invitation? As if it is a formal gathering?” he snapped. “Tell me, is that how you fine ladies go about issuing and accepting invites? By spying on people from their alley?”
“Ah.” She wagged a finger under his nose. “I never presumed to be a proper lady, Tynan.”
No, she hadn’t. In fact, time and time again, she’d proven herself different from those prim, propriety-driven peers who didn’t deal with anyone outside their ranks. “That doesn’t change the fact that you are,” he said quietly. “You can insist you’re different, but you are one of them, and I do not want you about because of it.”
Her features dipped, and damned if he didn’t feel like a bastard who’d kicked a dog.
The moment of woefulness proved short-lived. “This really isn’t like you, Tynan.” She patted his hand. “Rude and surly.”
His ears went hot.
“Why, you’re usually…”
The door opened, interrupting Faye’s baiting words. Sara appeared, all smiles. “Come in. Come in.”
“Thank you for being so welcoming,” Faye murmured, sweeping inside.
He scrubbed a hand across his forehead. It was obviously too much to hope that she’d honor his wishes and wants. It was always about what she wanted of him. It didn’t matter that he’d a damned life to live of his own, a post to secure, a reputation to restore, and a new beginning to make.
Sara ducked her head outside. “Are you coming?” she drawled, and he snapped into movement.
Despite the cold, his entire face went hot. What in hell was happening to him? Faye Poplar had reduced him to a damned woolgatherer. And here, with his release from Newgate and numerous people knowing of his newly acquired freedom, he was at risk of enemies rising from the ashes. Tynan did a quick survey of the streets and then hurried inside.
Faye had already removed her cloak, and Mary, one of the three household servants they kept, was in the midst of accepting that fine garment. All the while, Tynan glared at Faye.
The lady, however, gave no outward indication that she felt, heard, or cared about his displeasure.
Nay, she was already arm in arm with his sister and headed down the hall toward the parlor he’d abandoned moments ago.
With an even greater dread than that which he’d faced walking the halls of Newgate as an incarcerated man, he followed close behind the pair. Trusting in ways that terrified the hell out of him, Sara took Faye by the hands and drew her deeper into the room, welcoming her into the fold of the Wylie family.
He entered the parlor just as Sara gestured to the velvet-upholstered settee beside the tray of refreshments.
“Miss Poplar, was it?” his sister asked as Faye seated herself.
“Please, you must call me Faye,” the little upstart offered as she shucked her gloves and set the fine leather articles on the table.
“Faye, then,” Sara allowed, taking up a place in the chair opposite their guest. “I am Sara.”
Narrowing his eyes, Tynan rested a shoulder against the doorjamb and glared darkly at Faye.
By God, he’d entered into a farcical Covent Garden performance where the chit was concerned. No, in fairness, they’d moved into that realm from the onset when she’d waltzed into Newgate and set him free.
Suddenly, Sara looked his way and frowned. “Tynan, why are you hovering there in that menacing way?” She didn’t allow him a chance to respond, but instead made his apologies to Faye. “Knowing Tynan, you can likely attest to how unusual his behavior is today.”
“Oh, most unusual,” Faye murmured, accepting the cup of tea from Sara, and raising it to her lips. All the while, she stared over the rim at Tynan, enjoying herself immensely. “He is usually ever so kind and patient