ways, he didn’t send her out on her own, but rather, he escorted her out to her carriage. As the hack rolled away, she drew the curtain back a fraction and stared out at him watching her as she left until he faded altogether from sight.
Faye didn’t know what it meant that he’d cared enough this time to walk her out.
Chapter 20
Some men were proud.
Tynan wasn’t.
He was a survivor.
Seated at the kitchen table, Tynan let his pen fly over the page in yet another appeal to Lord Lothian. He’d continue to appeal for his former post until either he was carted off to prison once more or until Lord Lothian kicked his heels up.
The time he had to put his life to rights was limited. He wasn’t so naïve as to believe he’d been released for reasons that had nothing to do with Hinton being rid of the former warden who still commanded respect among the staff in that prison. Nor did he expect that releasing him was the only way in which Hinton wished to be rid of Tynan. A man had to act first or be destroyed, and Tynan had lived his life committed to the former.
He also knew better than to allow himself distractions.
Or he had.
Before Faye Poplar.
Now, there’d been a poetry reading and an afternoon call with his sister and taking pleasure in each other’s arms.
And even though she’d left thirty minutes ago, he’d not been able to rid himself of thoughts of her.
You are making more of it than there is. You’ve been too long without a woman.
That was all there was to it.
And yet, no matter how many times he’d given himself those assurances, he recognized the inherent lie within them, and that scared the everlasting hell out of him. When she’d had that blade jammed against her throat, he’d gone a little mad. And he knew what he needed to do because of it.
Quiet footfalls echoed outside this temporary office. “Enter,” he called before the steps had even come to a full stop.
Finn drew the door open, and like some miniature master of the house, he pointed to the children just behind him, urging them to enter. The boy commanded with a comfortable ease that would serve him well someday. All the boys filed in close to Tynan’s makeshift desk…with Jack and John the last to join. Their steps were reluctant. Their heads ducked. Their shoulders down, and their very features set in expressions of guilt. They hovered at the back of the group.
“Rounded them up as ye asked, Mr. Wylie,” Finn said, clasping his hands behind him, a child playing at being an adult.
No, that wasn’t altogether true or right. All those born to their lot were never really children. They entered the world ages older than they truly were.
Tynan set down his pen. Steepling his fingers, he rested them under his chin and tapped the pads of the digits together. “Come in, Jack. Come in, John,” he said.
John jumped an inch, but then started forward. He’d walked several feet before seeming to realize he’d made the journey alone. The boy shot a glance back over his shoulder until Jack ambled along with John following close behind.
They stopped alongside the other boys; both Jack and John remained pale and silent.
Tynan’s reputation preceded him. The world knew him to be ruthless, and he’d not only welcomed that image through the years, but he’d embraced it. They still hadn’t sorted out that his persona was reserved for the people bound by his prison walls. Any perceived weakness had the potential to lead to a revolt within, and that strength of character had to exist in equal measure within the dank walls of Newgate and out.
At last, he stopped tapping. “Did I give you an order to hurt anyone?” he asked in the steely tones he’d reserved for his inmates. Yes, they were children, but neither would he allow these boys or any others to hurt Faye. Or any woman. “Did I advise you to enlist Bragger’s help?”
“No, sir,” Liam, Lawrence, and Kevin immediately replied.
Tynan looked over to the still silent pair.
As one, both John and Jack frantically shook their heads. “N-no, sir.”
“Did I tell you to scare anyone?” Tynan demanded.
Again, the two children gave another shake.
“Did I request your interference in my dealings with the lady?”
“No, sir,” Jack whispered, his voice threadbare.
“No,” John added.
“Make no mistake,” he murmured, sitting forward in his seat and resting his elbows on the table, “when I wish to