To Deceive A Duke

Chapter 1

London is the city of mystery. The city of advancement and light. The city of crime. It is a place where everyone has a secret to protect, and nothing is as it seems. The only thing that is known for sure is that the rich live lives of leisure while the poor work their frail bodies to the bone. Those who have lived here all their lives have come to accept the balance that separates the lavish from the desperate, but that doesn't stop them from feeling bitter. Most are hungry, most are hopeless, and most of them live in the East End. The East End, a cesspool of desperation fraught with murder and pain.

While the people that walk the paved stone streets in daylight have their own reputation, it is the monsters that lie in wait in the darkness that strike fear into the heart of the bravest soul. These monsters are the shells of men ruined by harsh winters and the disastrous effects of poverty and hunger.

That little boy that sells newspapers on the street corner? He's a pickpocket with a habit of not leaving his victims alive. That woman that runs the fruit and vegetable cart by St Paul's Cathedral? She manages several brothels on the River Thames and doesn't take kindly to unwanted pregnancy. You cannot thrive in the East End, only survive. Its streets are like a sharp knife; only a certain type of person can handle it before they cut themselves. The East End has many boroughs of wickedness and strife, but there is one place that is known as the crown jewel in the city of depravity. With access to the River Thames and a central location, The Strand has gained a reputation as the most valuable and profitable place for exploiting and charging sin.

What might surprise you is that during the day, when the sun shines high in the sky, pleasant people with bright futures bustle around The Strand and the place is alive, but when night falls, the monsters come out to play. They thrive in the gloom and chaos, feeding on those who are foolish enough to cross their paths. People who venture here after hours vanish and reappear a week later, river water swimming in their lungs.

On this particular dark and stormy night, Savoy Street is bustling with nightly activity. A small boy steals the wallet of an intoxicated man as he leers over a red-headed whore who whispers dangerous propositions in his ear. Small boats pull up silently in the dark waters and contraband is bartered over and sold, and then they slink back the way they came, like ghosts in the night. All along the street warm light floods from busy pubs, illuminating those who stumble past on their way home from a visit to the whore or public house.

A fight breaks out near The One-Eyed Duke, two men scuffle on the wet ground and a few spectators gather around to watch the action that will surely result in the death of one of them. From one of the side alleys, a figure slips out of the darkness and into the pool of glowing light cast from inside the pub. They wear a thick black coat and keep their face concealed by the hood. The stranger observes the fight for a moment before edging around the action and slipping into the pub.

The One-Eyed Duke is a large public house filled with sticky wooden tables and small cracked stools. A spitting fire roars in the grate, washing it's drunk and fumbling customers in a wave of warmth and light. Many paintings of landscapes are mounted upon the walls next to some rather crude paintings. The bar is located to the right of the entrance, it stretches the length of the wall, with only a small gap to slip behind it. The pub is heaving with customers, mainly men that stare at the barmaids in their tight corsets as they pass around watered-down whiskey and beer. The bar is manned by an imposing yeti of a man with a vicious scar on his left cheek. His beady eyes jump to the stranger as soon as the door opens but he doesn't react and continues to clean the glass in his hand.

The newcomer carefully avoids being caught in the explosive drunken behaviour of the customers as they walk down the side of the bar to the small gap. Instead of turning left and going behind the bar, they continue straight, to where a small door is hidden behind the outward jutting of shelves that hold alcohol and liqueur. Nobody watches as they push gently at the door and it silently swings open.