The Den Of Iniquity. Anabelle Bryant

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      ‘But what if charity repaid the debt to you?’ Sophie warmed to the subject, her idea drawing everyone’s apt attention.

      ‘Whatever are you babbling about?’ Crispin appeared sceptical.

      ‘Vivienne has always brightened the room with her presence.’

      ‘Indeed.’ Crispin agreed with a lopsided smile that earned him a dismissive wave from his sister.

      ‘I think Vivienne is most comfortable when she shines light and positivity into someone’s life.’ Sophie’s stare pierced her brother before it settled on Vivienne. ‘Perhaps you should dedicate your efforts to those truly in need. You could impart irreparable change to any of the forsaken while at the same time bringing peace to your soul by continuing your mother’s fine work. Beneficence is a two-sided coin and charity on a personal level could prove most rewarding. Just think of all who need the advantage of reformation.’ Sophie flipped her hand up, fingers splayed as she ticked off a series of worthy considerations. ‘Orphans at the Foundling Hospital, unwed mothers, the infirm, condemned, jailed.’

      ‘Wait a minute.’ Crispin popped from his chair and strode closer. ‘Within reason, Sophie. You can’t mean to suggest Vivienne should hie off to Whitechapel or St Giles and mingle with the sad sort lining the streets.’ His tone rang stern, his face echoing the sentiment. ‘There is danger within the vice of the lower classes.’

      ‘Not at all.’ Sophie rolled her eyes in exasperation. ‘But she could find someone in need through the church or another organization: a person in dire need of reformation.’

      ‘I intend to work closely with my mother’s favourite charities, but I do understand what you mean.’ Vivienne nodded her head in agreement, an immediate image of Maxwell Sinclair strengthening her conviction. ‘I could strive to find a solitary someone in need, perhaps a lost soul in this great city. A person more than a cause. Someone in a—’

      ‘Brothel?’ Sophie offered, although from her friend’s mischievous expression, Vivienne suspected she meant to goad Crispin more than present a valid idea. And just like a fish on a hook, Crispin took the bait and jumped in with a sound thrashing of his sister.

      ‘How could you suggest such a thing?’ He came to stand beside Vivienne’s chair and she looked up at his profile, his brows drawn low.

      Vivienne had known Crispin for years and over that time he’d become as close to a brother as she’d ever have. He was protective of her person, respectful, and quick to chastise Sophie for her far-fetched ideas whenever they surfaced. No social reform would ever be needed for Crispin Daventry.

      ‘I agree.’ That earned her a smile and a frown. ‘But I’ve another idea. I could work to reform someone who needs my help, but at the same time wouldn’t place me in harm’s way.’

      ‘Where would you find this person?’ Crispin eyed her with affectionate amusement, his expression sharing he thought the notion foolish.

      ‘Oh I don’t know…’ She hesitated, not sure how either of her friends would react. ‘Perhaps a place where people congregate for activities but don’t necessarily break the law. Somewhere that more adventurous spirits gather…’ She feigned a pensive expression. ‘A gaming hell comes to mind.’

      ‘A gaming hell?’ Sophie and Crispin answered in unison as if they’d rehearsed it.

      ‘Yes.’ Voicing the idea boosted her confidence.

      ‘And what would you know about the goings-on at a gaming hell, sweet Vivienne? Ladies as refined as the two of you do not frequent scandalous establishments such as jails, brothels and hells. I’d wager the last raspberry tart on the tea tray neither one of you could name a single place of nefarious reputation in all of London.’

      Crispin looked sufficiently pleased with himself, but Vivienne couldn’t stop the truth from erupting. ‘There’s the Underworld.’ She let the words settle, more than a little curious, while she reached for the last tart on the tray.

      ‘The Underworld.’ Crispin’s brows rose all the way to his hairline. ‘That topping house is a well-kept secret and no place for a delicate lady. Every scoundrel, rogue and rake holds an account there. How do you know of it?’ He leaned closer as if he could see the answer in her eyes and for a brief moment, Vivienne thought his expression altered, softened, until a look of absolute surprise slid back into place.

      She settled against the cushion and relished Crispin’s shocked expression, Sophie’s laughter and prompt applause. If she were to visit the Underworld, she would see Mr Sinclair and that in itself was intriguing enough to motivate a continuation of the discussion. ‘Never mind that. You’ve proved my point. If the ton seeks to keep the hall secret, there must be good reason. What better place to find a gentleman to reform?’

      ‘Oh, now that sounds intriguing,’ Sophie added.

      Crispin chuckled loud and long. ‘It is called a hell, not a hall and, Vivienne, you are the veriest delight.’ He sat beside her on the couch. ‘You will not find a gentleman there.’

      ‘Enlighten us, dear brother.’ Sophie drew closer too, aware her brother enjoyed being the centre of their attention.

      ‘A gaming hell is a magnet for low women and high stakes. People who dally at such places are not fit company for either of you.’ He spoke to them both but somehow his focus remained solely on Vivienne. ‘I couldn’t bear the thought of you rubbing elbows with the lowest levels of humanity in the dimly lit interior of a gaming hell.’

      Sophie cleared her throat and Crispin amended his statement.

      ‘Or you either, Sis.’

      ‘I’m just wondering—’ Sophie flashed a knowing smile ‘—at your exuberance for the telling. It ignites my curiosity as to how often you’ve visited the Underworld club.’

      ‘Not a club. Not a hall.’ He shook his head back and forth as if he was explaining something simple to a young child. Then he expelled a long breath to indicate he tolerated their foolery and by obligatory bond would impart his privileged male knowledge and eradicate why their reasoning remained flawed. ‘I mean to protect Vivienne lest you put some hare-brained idea in her head.’ He paused to eye his sister with what could only be considered a glare of warning.

      Sophie pulled a mulish look in return. When silence ensued, Vivienne interjected.

      ‘I don’t believe it can be as bad as all that. I’m sure there is a man who oversees the activities of this hell.’ She made sure to emphasize she’d stated the word correctly. ‘Someone in control.’ Absolute control. Mr Sinclair exuded authority like others perspired.

      ‘Let me speak plainly, ladies. The proprietors are neither well-mannered men nor company for anyone in good standing with the ton. I’ve heard stories about one of the owners, Mr Sinclair.’ The latter was said with calamitous gravity.

      Vivienne’s head shot up with the mention.

      Sophie wasn’t as patient. ‘And?’ She practically begged the question.

      ‘If I must.’ Crispin lifted a meaningful eyebrow. ‘The man is a by-blow: child of a mother with light heels and a father with poor judgement.’ He shifted on the couch though he didn’t break СКАЧАТЬ