Taming of the Beast (Scandalous Affairs #2) - Christi Caldwell Page 0,7
intent to reveal nothing, it was too much. Tynan fell back in his seat. “You expect me to believe—”
“That I am setting you free?” the other man interrupted. “Yes. That’s precisely what I’m saying.”
To what end?
“I don’t want you by these parts again. Are we clear? I don’t want you darkening my jail or interfering with my guards or my inmates. Or any of it. The minute you are gone, you are dead to this place. Are we clear?”
That was it, then? It came down to the threat posed by Tynan’s being here, and yet, he could have had him offed and been sure to be free of him. For the first time, his jailer had the upper hand, for Tynan couldn’t sort out the real motives driving Hinton or the woman he’d been partnered with.
“I asked if we are clear,” the other man barked, this time his tone sharper and edged with impatience and unease.
“Not quite.” Tynan made a show of studying the grime under his nails. “You assume I want to leave this place.”
Hinton growled.
The young woman shifted on her seat, leaning closer to Tynan. “Are you saying you do not wish to be freed?” She cocked her head, that deep hood slipping slightly and revealing a hint of the woman underneath. Enormous brown eyes, a pale face, and thick dark curls that framed a slightly too-pointed chin. It was an ethereal face he would have recalled.
She caught his study and then promptly pulled her hood back up into place.
“I’m saying I don’t trust Hinton or anyone who’d show up and want to set me free,” he returned coolly.
“She didn’t bribe me. I accepted nothing for your exchange.”
He’d accepted nothing?
Those warning bells blared all the louder.
Hinton sneered. “You’ve found yourself turned upside down.” And by the glee in the other man’s voice, he was enjoying the hell out of it. “You can only look at the world and other people and see your own decisions. You took bribes, lining your pockets, and as such, I must be selling you. I’m not. I see you as a liability to my running this place. And this institution is more important than one man being holed up here.”
Tynan planted his hands upon the other man’s desk, this mahogany replacement to the cruder, oak one he’d once used. “Quit it with your sanctimonious shite. This is about you wanting me away because you can’t fully consolidate power here unless I’m gone. And you can’t simply kill me when there’s still guards who’d mutiny. And prisoners, too.”
Hinton tensed his mouth. “If you truly wish to see the London sky again, I’d have a care,” he clipped out.
Tynan chuckled. “Ah, but then, have I given you reason to believe I would?” And that was in large part undoubtedly why it had proven so disappointing keeping him here. He’d not let the other man break him. He’d not pleaded and wept. He’d revealed a boredom, which had robbed a man intent on punishment of any real satisfaction. “Have I shown in any way I wish to be parted from my great institution?”
Hinton slammed his fist down. “It’s not your institution. It is mine,” he thundered.
Through that outburst, Mrs. X, as she’d dubbed herself, didn’t so much as move. The fabric of her hood rustled ever so slightly, indicating she moved her head back and forth, taking in the details.
He’d deal with this peculiar creature who wanted him when he was free of this place.
The warden smoothed the lapels of his jacket, and then crossing over, he freed Tynan of his manacles. “Get the hell out, Wylie,” he said, this time in more measured tones.
Shaking out his wrists to bring the blood-flow comfortably back through his hands, Tynan stood. His mystery savior immediately sprang to her feet beside him.
Tynan headed for the door.
When he reached the front of the room, he stopped, and stared at the oak panel. His body tensed and he braced for the guards to be called in the psychological game that had been played.
And yet, as he made the march from Hinton’s offices and down the long, dark, dank corridors and ultimately outside, just the one peculiar person followed him. A diminutive Mrs. X, who struggled to keep pace.
As he stepped outside the prison walls, he let his lips form a cold, harsh smile, the only one his lips were capable of.
He was free.
Chapter 3
She’d done it!
She, Faye Poplar, had sprung the notorious Mr. Wylie from the bowels of Newgate Prison.