different life seemed across town. Nettlecombe, with its dour grey stone and narrow corridors, had kept her caged for too long. Of course, she amended, her stepfather’s home spoke more to history than style. Lord Huntley seemed a more traditional, reserved sort, who never spoke of family relations and hadn’t had one caller the entire time she’d resided at Nettlecombe.
As expected, Gilbert, the Daventry butler, answered the door with a cheerful greeting.
‘Miss Beaumont, it is lovely to see you.’ He took her cloak and passed it off to a nearby servant before leading her down the pristine marble hallway. ‘Miss Sophie and Master Crispin will be pleased with your visit. The house has missed your company, if I may be so bold.’ He stopped before the door and waited on her answer.
‘Of course you may, Gilbert. I would expect no less.’ She followed the servant through the double panels into an elegant salon where her name was received with an enthusiastic squeal and clap of conversation, an immediate balm to her soul. The shared friendship in this house was one of her heart’s treasures.
‘Vivienne.’ A smile broke across Sophie’s face as she hurried to embrace her in a warm hug. ‘I can’t believe my eyes. Have you decided to re-enter society? The time is right with the season set to begin. I couldn’t be happier.’
Accustomed to Sophie’s fast-paced chattering, Vivienne nodded in agreement, knowing better than to interrupt.
‘Indeed.’ Crispin approached the twosome, his grin broader than his sister’s. ‘At last I have reason to breathe again.’
‘Good heavens, Crispin, you sound like a lovesick fool.’ Sophie waved her brother away before he could reach for Vivienne’s hand. ‘None of your teasing today.’ She lowered her voice in a conspiratorial whisper and leaned closer. ‘He’s such an intelligent man, yet he behaves like an empty-headed sop whenever you visit. One would think after your extended absence he’d abandon his foolish antics.’
Crispin persisted and snatched up Vivienne’s hand next. ‘My deepest condolences once again.’ His grin vanished, replaced by an expression of sincere compassion.
‘Thank you.’ She offered him a gentle smile. ‘I’m faring better.’
‘Crispin, must it be one extreme or the other?’ Sophie skewered him with a wide-eyed stare. ‘Let’s not discuss anything sombre today. Vivienne is here after so very long and I’ve missed her company dearly. Come sit and talk. We’ve just rung for tea so your timing is ideal.’
‘I’ve missed you both. Know that well.’ Vivienne settled on the sofa across from her friend and Crispin took a seat at a distance from the tea table. ‘The mourning period has been long and distressing.’ Her voice faded. ‘You know the closeness Mother and I shared.’
‘Of course.’ Sophie frowned at Vivienne’s dismay and the room fell silent for several long beats. ‘Have you come straight from Nettlecombe?’
‘No.’ Vivienne’s spirits buoyed at the chance to retell her adventure from the morning. ‘Actually, I planned to meet the Salvation Saviours but when I arrived at the church, no one was there.’ Well, not exactly no one. Mr Sinclair was there. She carried his calling card like a dark secret in her reticule.
‘I admire your charitable endeavours.’ Crispin moved closer and took a seat beside his sister. ‘The unfortunate and needy exist in great number in this city and it speaks well of your generosity to think of others.’
‘It’s a selfish act in truth. Charity work was so meaningful to my mother; it’s one way to keep her spirit alive,’ Vivienne added with a slight smile.
‘Crispin is right. You’re a gem and I’ve missed you so. Having my brother accompany me to every social event without you by my side has been a chore.’ Sophie shot Crispin an impish look.
‘True enough, the condition is bilateral,’ Crispin concurred. ‘Conversation has suffered greatly without your pleasant company.’ His eyes twinkled with the compliment.
‘I don’t think I’m ready to embrace a round of festivities.’ Vivienne shrugged her shoulders with the quiet admission, although the convivial conversation fit as snugly as her best gloves. How she’d missed her two dearest friends.
‘Oh, I believe you have the right of it. Your charity work will honour your mother and also help you heal.’ Sophie’s face gleamed with hopeful compassion. ‘If you’re hesitant about re-entering society, you should put your heart into a cause and let that involvement lead you into the mix.’
‘Dedicate my time to charity, as my mother did. Yes. It’s what I planned and why I’d written to the Salvation Saviours in the first place.’ She nodded her head in the affirmative. ‘Since my earliest years Mother instilled the desire to offer assistance to those less fortunate. Over time I grew to truly understand the impact she created in so many lives through her kindness and generosity. I’d like to carry on this tradition.’
‘Exactly. You’ve always spared time for the needy and those who have left the path of wholesomeness.’
The tail end of Sophie’s comment planted a seed of inspiration that bloomed a smile on Vivienne’s face. ‘I owe the forlorn a debt of gratitude. By helping others, I often forget my own troubles.’
‘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