Notorious Pleasures (Maiden Lane #2)(31)
Author: Elizabeth Hoyt

“And Mandeville?” she asked quietly. “Does he know what you do to support your family?”

“Never fear,” he said with deep and devastating cynicism. “Your fiancé’s hands are clean of all this. Thomas worries about far nobler things than where the money comes from to clothe him. His interests lie with parliament and such, not bill collectors.”

“But”—her brows knit as she tried to figure it out—“he must have some idea of where the money comes from. Hasn’t he ever asked?”

“No.” Reading shrugged. “Perhaps he does wonder, but if so, he’s never said a word about it to me.”

“And you’ve never tried to discuss it with him?”

“No.”

Troubled, she stared at her hands. What Reading did to make money was reprehensible, but what of a man who enjoyed wealth without once asking how it was made? Wasn’t Mandeville in some ways just as much to be condemned as Reading? Perhaps more so—he had all the benefits without suffering any of the soul-shredding consequences of dealing in gin. There was a name for such a man, she knew.

Coward, a tiny voice whispered deep in her heart.

She pushed the thought aside and looked at Reading. “If my brother finds out what you do, he’ll not hesitate to have you brought before a magistrate. Maximus cannot be reasoned with when it comes to the subject of gin.”

“Even at the risk of embroiling his dear younger sister in scandal?” He arched an eyebrow. “I think not.”

She shook her head, turning to gaze out the window. They’d left St. Giles behind and were rolling through a much nicer area. “You don’t know him. He’s obsessed with gin and the effects it has on the poor of London—he has been ever since our parents’ murders. He believes that gin is to blame for their deaths. I don’t know that he would stay his hand, even if you’re soon to be my brother-in-law.”

He shrugged. “That’s a chance I have to take.”

She pursed her lips. “What were you discussing with that man at the distillery?”

He sighed. “I have a competitor—though that word is a bit refined for what he is—who is bent on driving me out of business.”

She glanced at him, alarmed. “What kind of competitor?”

“The kind who likes to smash stills and throw the mangled body of one of my men over the courtyard wall,” he said. “It’s the reason I came to London—well, that and your engagement to Thomas.”

“Dear God.” She shook her head. How could he joke about becoming mixed up with such criminals? “Then that man was—”

“His name was Reese, and his only sin appears to have been going out for a drink yesterday.”

She shuddered. “That poor man.”

“You needn’t worry,” he said. “As I’ve said, Thomas isn’t involved.”

She looked at him incredulously. Did he really think her so shallow?

“I can understand that you were desperate to right your family’s finances,” Hero said slowly. “But they are no longer in peril, are they? My brother would have found out if there were financial concerns when he had my marriage contract drawn up.”

“Your brother is a shrewd man,” Reading said. “I’ve no doubt but that you are correct. The Mandeville fortune is safe now. He didn’t find anything amiss.”

“If that is the case, then why continue to distill gin?”

“You don’t understand—” he began.

“You’re patronizing me again,” she snapped.

He looked at her, his pale green eyes suddenly hard. “I have my family to consider, my Lady Perfect. Caro has made a fine match, but Megs is still unwed. If she is to find a suitable match, she needs to dress the part—as I’m sure you understand. I cannot give up the still until she is safely wed—until I am financially stable. We need the money from the still to finance her season.”

She closed her eyes and spoke from her heart. “We have had our differences, my Lord Shameless. There have been times in the last several days when I have thought I disliked you quite intensely.” He snorted, but she continued. She needed to make her point before she lost her courage. “But I think we have also learned something about each other. I would like to think that we are friends of a sort.”

The silence was so complete that she thought for a moment that he was holding his breath. She opened her eyes to find him watching her, his elbows propped on his knees, his green eyes still but with an expression in their depths that made her catch her breath. She clasped her hands, bolstering her bravery.

“Yes, friends,” she said quietly, as much to herself as to him. “And as a friend, I beg of you: please quit this way of making money.”

“Megs—”

She shook her head violently, cutting him off. “Yes, Lady Margaret needs gowns to catch a husband, but there must be other ways of making money. I’ve seen how gin destroys lives in the poorer parts of London. You may not care right now, you may only see your family and the money you need, but someday you’ll raise your head and look around. When that day comes, you’ll realize the misery you and your gin have caused. And when that happens, gin will destroy you, too.”

“Friends.” He sat back in his seat, ignoring her warning. “Is that what I really am to you? A friend?”

She blinked. She hadn’t expected the question. “Yes, why not?”

He shrugged, eyeing her moodily. “Why not indeed. Friend is such a very… benign… word. Do you kiss all your friends the way you kissed me last night?”

Her eyes had narrowed—she had been waiting for the shot. But still she couldn’t quite control a small shudder. His mouth had been hot. “I’ve told you I do not wish to discuss last night. It’s in the past.”

“And forgotten?”

“Yes.”

“Funny.” He stroked his chin. “I find it rather hard to forget it myself. Your lips were so very soft, so very sweet when they parted beneath mine.”

Her body heated at his words. She couldn’t help it, and she felt that same spark of desire. He could light it within her so damned easily.

“Stop it,” she said low. “What do you think you’re doing?”

It was his turn to look away. “I don’t honestly know.”

“I’m marrying Thomas,” she said. “In only five weeks now. If we are to have any sort of brother-sister relationship, you must forget it.”