Notorious Pleasures (Maiden Lane #2)(37)

“And you left school to manage the family’s finances?” Hero asked skeptically.

He spread his hands and inclined his head.

“But why you? Wasn’t it Thomas’s job to find a financial manager?”

“One”—he ticked off his point on a long finger—“we couldn’t afford a financial manager, and two, Thomas’s head for money is about the same as our dear, late father’s. He spent the last of what we had in the week after Father died.”

“And money is the one thing you’re good at,” Hero said slowly. “That’s what you told me when you offered me a loan. When it comes to financial dealings, you can be relied on.” Did he think that was the only thing he could be relied upon to do correctly?

Griffin nodded. “Thank God my mother caught wind of what Thomas was doing. She had a small inheritance of her own that she’d kept hidden from Father. We lived for the first year or so on that bit of pin money until my distillery started bringing in money.”

That reminder snapped her attention back to her original concern. “But… gin distilling? Why that of all things?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You have to understand. I came home from university to my mother near prostrate with grief and worry, half the family furnishings sold to pay my father’s debts, bill collectors calling at all hours, and Thomas nattering on about how fine a new carriage with gilt trim would be. It was autumn and all I had was a rotten harvest of grain, mostly spoiled with damp. I could’ve sold it to a broker who would’ve then sold it again to a gin distiller, but I thought, wait a minute, why lose most of the profit? I bought a secondhand still and paid the old rascal I’d bought it from extra to show me how to use it.”

He sat back on the carriage seat and shrugged. “Two years later, we were able to afford Caro’s season.”

“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?”