““As I don’t live there myself, it’s highly unlikely.” Benedict turned briefly to look at her as they waited for a heavily laden cart to pass across the junction. They’d left their weary horses at one of the many inns, and were continuing in a hackney cab. London seemed twice as grim and three times as crowded since the last time she’d ventured into the city. Malinda hated the smells, the filth of the streets, and most of all, the beggars who hung around every corner or followed you, tugging at ...your skirt or sleeve. It wasn’t the beggars themselves she disliked—God knows, she could’ve easily become one herself—but the sheer number of them, and the sense that she’d never be able to help them all overwhelmed her. “Do you have your own house?” “I do. I also have lodgings at my place of business.” “Otherwise known as the Sinners Club?” He glanced at her again. “You seem remarkably well informed. Who told you about the Sinners?” “I can’t quite remember.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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