The Den Of Iniquity. Anabelle Bryant

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ number eleven, are you?’

      The stranger was dressed in brown from head to toe, as flat and dull as the tree bark where he’d all but blended in aside from the startling scar on his face. No one could mistake it, a jagged white line from his eye socket to his chin and just as unsettling as the jarring hackney ride. She wasn’t one to speak to strangers, already troubled by her recent pangs of ambiguity, and so she moved away, staring over her shoulder to ensure he did not follow her as she took the steps, dropped the brass knocker and prayed the door would open.

      She darted a glance across the roadway but as far as she could tell the man was gone, dissolved into the ever-present murmur of city life. Drawing a deep breath, she dropped the knocker again, more solidified in her purpose and quick to regain the delightful anticipation of seeing Mr Sinclair again. His hypnotic stare was the exact balm needed to soothe her ruffled feathers. But no one answered. Disappointment caused her shoulders to sag and she placed the basket at the foot of the door, uncertain how to proceed.

      ‘Looking for Sin, are you?’ A lad, no more than ten years at most, approached the bottom stair, his hands busy with a pair of dice tossed into the air in a pretentious game of catch.

      ‘I am.’ She reclaimed the basket and descended the stoop. ‘Do you know where I might find him?’

      The boy straightened his posture, a half-smile tilting his cheeks. ‘For a shilling I do.’

      ‘Oh dear.’ She should have anticipated the ruffian entrepreneur would place a price on the information. Clearly she’d need to develop more savvy business acuity. She placed the basket at her feet and opened her reticule to extract the coin but she held it tight, unwilling to offer it forward. ‘That depends on the information you share, young man.’

      ‘You should call me Ace.’

      ‘I’d rather call you by your given name. I’d wager your mother chose your name with heartfelt consideration so I’ll use it and you’ll answer if you have any hope of receiving payment.’

      Thwarted, the lad dropped his grin, clasped his dice in one fist and flipped a peek to the locked doors above them. ‘I’m Thomas and you’ve no chance of catching anyone here now. ’Tis morning and the hell’s been open all night. Sin is sleeping with some bawd by now.’

      Unimpressed by the lad’s mimic of swagger far beyond his years and likely obtained from places he should never have frequented, Vivienne waited. He stared at the coin and then, in his first show of boyhood, eyed the basket with earnest longing as he laid one hand across his flat belly.

      ‘I have raspberry jam and fresh bread, sugar biscuits and sesame cakes if you spend a few minutes telling me what you know, but be warned I have no patience for bouncers or Banbury tales.’ She adopted a strident tone and watched him closely. Indeed, she might be better at this than she originally thought.

      ‘Aye. I understand.’

      They settled in companionable silence, on the lowest step of the stairs leading to the entrance of the gaming hell before she removed the linen napkins and other contents of the basket in an unlikely picnic. She allowed the lad to dine first and when his appetite was satisfied, good heavens he was a bottomless pit, she cleaned up their mess while he regaled her with everything observed as he earned coin at the kerb watching expensive cattle.

      ‘And Sin won’t want flowers.’ He ended with a sharp nod towards the abandoned bouquet. ‘Men like us don’t like flummery.’ He said this with such disparagement she almost laughed outright.

      ‘Then what do you suggest, Thomas?’ She stood, ready to take her leave. A part of her felt disconsolate for she hadn’t met Mr Sinclair, yet another brighter part rejoiced to have fed Tom thoroughly.

      ‘He likes Miss Mirabel well enough.’ He looked her over with wide-eyed assessment. ‘I reckon he could like you too.’

      More than a little appalled, Vivienne cleared her throat. ‘I didn’t imply…’ What did she mean by soliciting advice from a streetwise urchin? ‘Very well, Thomas. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance this morning. Perhaps we’ll meet again.’

      ‘I doubt it.’ He had the dice in the air again, his boyish expression replaced with a contrived expression of cynicism. ‘But you never know.’

Chapter Five

      Sinclair unlocked the front door to the Underworld and bent to retrieve a wilted bouquet of daisies left on the top stairs. He tossed it over the side railing with a confused shake of his head. It was hours before opening, but restlessness forced him out of his rooms, across the Thames and here, his home away from home and the one place where he validated his worth. Recent inquiries into the whereabouts of the final man on his list led nowhere. One dead end after another frustrated the hell out of him. Perhaps when he finished the task he would resolve the unrelenting restlessness that plagued his existence.

      ‘Sin.’

      He jerked his focus to the kerb where Ace flailed an arm in an attempt to gain his attention. The lad took the stairs two at time and stood beside him before he could think better of it.

      ‘Mr Sin.’ The lad huffed the two words with a nod.

      ‘I told you to call me Max, Ace.’ Twisting the key in the lock, he stepped into the hallway, allowing the boy to follow. Ace was an indulgent distraction. Much like women. Something, anything, to keep his mind from the ever-present insistence of his unfinished tasks.

      ‘Is that what she calls you?’ Ace followed gingerly, the tips of his shoes nearly clipping Sinclair’s heels.

      ‘Who?’ He stopped at the foot of the stairs and cast a glance downward. ‘Does who call me Max?’

      ‘The looker with the midnight hair.’ Ace’s anxious voice echoed as they climbed. ‘The one who brought you daisies.’

      Having reached the top landing, Sinclair chuckled and placed a palm atop Ace’s head to steer him inside the office. ‘Have you eaten?’ At the lad’s vigorous nod, Sin continued. ‘Take a seat and explain what you’re blathering about.’

      ‘I know what I saw.’ With a practised glower Ace settled on the couch. ‘This morning she came.’ He nodded his head in the affirmative. ‘The prettiest lady I’ve ever seen. She brought you daisies and a basket full of food although we shared it until nothing was left.’

      Interest piqued, Sin hooked his coat on the wall and settled behind his desk. ‘Go on. Describe the lady.’

      ‘Hair as dark as the night sky with green eyes so bright I thought I dreamed them.’ As if he caught the poetic reference, Ace re-established a sullen expression. ‘But she left when I told her you only come around at night.’ He paused and then said, ‘Paid me two bob, she did.’ He held up the shillings to prove his claim. ‘Fed me ’til I burst.’

      ‘Indeed.’ Sin knew exactly who’d visited but like most refined ladies, she didn’t realize his livelihood forced him into a nocturnal lifestyle. This also kept him far and away from the social schedule of the titled and entitled, a group he would never be part of and would rather not consider. Regret was a waste of time. ‘Fancy ladies such as she are not for men like us, Ace.’ He dismissed the subject, unwilling to think more on it. The few women who’d occupied his interest for more than a night had endeavoured to take him to СКАЧАТЬ