Sinless (The Shaws) Page 8

  The door clicked, and Andrew turned as he heard a familiar voice. “Miss Childers has taste, does she not?”

  His heart pounded, and heat flushed his body. He turned, but slower, longing for everything to return to normal. He had bidden farewell to Darius. “Was this her idea?”

  Darius strode forward, his hands in the pockets of his white breeches, tightening the front of the cloth. Andrew fought not to look and barely succeeded.

  “What? This meeting? Yes. She murmured the instructions to me like a lover, but she knows my preferences. I suspected something else, but not this.”

  For the first time, Andrew saw Darius’s eyes, the blue so concentrated, dazzling to the observer. Tiny signs of tension tightened his jaw and put lines around his mouth. “No, not this. Why has she done it? Why speak to us both? A warning?”

  “Perhaps. In any case it’s unfounded, is it not? We have done nothing.” A pause. “Nearly nothing. Not as much as I would like.”

  As Andrew opened his mouth to reply, Darius held up his hand.

  “No, I will say no more on that. I’m trying to be good. I promised myself I would.” His gold-embroidered waistcoat glittered when he took a few deep breaths.

  Andrew waited.

  “In the meantime, we still have one matter to discuss. I have not yet traced our mutual friend.” He glanced meaningfully at the jib door. Who knew who was waiting behind that unobtrusive entrance?

  Unwilling to allow uncertainty, Andrew crossed the room, brushing past Darius as if he didn’t care how close he got, and opened the door. Nobody stood behind it. He closed it again. “The candles are lit and the fire made up. Almost as if we were expected.”

  “Indeed.”

  “I have heard nothing either, although I have made inquiries.”

  The outer door opened silently to admit their hostess. Both men swept into low bows.

  Miss Childers nodded. “We do not need to stand on ceremony here. Please take a seat, gentlemen. If you wish for refreshment, the decanters are on the sideboard. It’s the good brandy and port, and I believe there’s claret too. I’ll take a brandy.”

  Used to the lady’s more abrupt manner, Andrew relaxed. He felt more at home with this version of her. Strolling to the sideboard, he chose the brandy and poured liberal amounts into two of the tumblers. Turning, he received a curt nod from Darius and poured him one, too.

  He took his time delivering the drinks, enough to regain his equilibrium and take a hefty sip of his own.

  Miss Childers, in her elaborate ball gown and her huge side hoops, took up the whole of one sofa. Darius took a seat in one of the armchairs that faced it. He took the other and put his glass on the table by his side, pleased to note he didn’t tremble one bit.

  “How may we serve you, madam?” he asked.

  She raised a brow. Miss Childers’s hair was powdered tonight, but he knew the guinea-gold shade well. The powder made her appear washed out, her pale complexion fashionable but unflattering next to the dead-white of the hair powder. Her height and her generous figure did not appear to its best in a formal evening gown, though he had to admit the silk—painted with twisted vines, butterflies, and other assorted plants and lizards—was of the finest quality. The diamonds around her throat were probably real, though their size would hint at paste.

  “It’s not you serving me. It’s how we can help each other.” She glanced at Darius. “I suspect, my lord, you will find this project interesting, so I will not ask for anything except your silence in this matter.”

  Both men nodded.

  The lady continued. “I have recently become aware that we have an interest in a mutual acquaintance.”

  Andrew felt at home with this kind of dialogue. It sounded almost the same as the formal language used in courts of law. However, he had no idea what she was talking about.

  “You will excuse my lack of refinement. When you had your unfortunate encounter at the molly house, you were found in company with a young gentleman, one Matthew Canning. That young man has asked to withdraw all his funds from Childers’s bank. Unfortunately, the bank has been requested to withhold the money.”

  “Who requested you to do that?” Darius demanded, his voice sharp.

  The lady slowly turned her head to meet Darius’s steady gaze. In that moment, Andrew understood how this woman could run such a large enterprise on her own. She did not falter or look away and appeared content to allow the tense silence to continue. Many people would have rushed to fill the uncomfortable pause, but she did not.

  However, they did not have all evening. Fascinated though he was, Andrew needed to move matters along. “Whitehall,” he suggested. “Let us settle on that for now. They asked for the funds to be withheld.”

  Miss Childers was the first to look at him. She nodded. “Yes, let’s. I run one of the biggest banks in London, so I hear of matters you might not immediately apply to me.” She took a sip of brandy, not at all abashed at her statement.

  Managing a business so large would intimidate the boldest man or woman. That she could accomplish that on her own filled Andrew with admiration.

  “Whitehall wants me to put a stop to his funds. When he arrived in London, he deposited a good sum with the bank.”

  “What did you do?” Andrew asked softly. He steepled his hands, pressing the tips of his fingers under his chin.

  “I ordered the tellers to give him an excuse. They are there because they can think on their feet. They sent him away. He left an address, and we promised to expedite his request as soon as we could.”

  “And the address?”

  Andrew could have hit Darius. The question was too eager, too quick, and it sounded too much like an order. Andrew would wager that Miss Childers took orders from nobody, even a handsome, arrogant marquess’s son. She wouldn’t take his demand kindly.

  Her smile did not waver. “I will get to that. In return, gentlemen, I have a favor to ask.”

  Clever, to incite their interest and then ask for something in return.

  “Name it.” Darius again. Did he have to sound quite so eager?

  Miss Childers cast Darius an amused look. “You haven’t heard it yet, my lord. What if I am about to propose marriage to one of you?”

  Darius went pale, an interestingly delicate shade. “I gave my word, ma’am.”

  The lady threw back her head and howled with laughter. The diamonds in her hair glittered against the dead-white of her hair powder, adding vitality and life to the arrangement. “I will not hold you to it, sir. I know your—”

  Darius exchanged a glance with Andrew, the alarm in his eyes a reflection of Andrew’s own.

  Andrew gave an inward groan. She was astute, this woman. She would not have missed that instinctive exchange. “Some people have made excellent marriages when they share friendship and nothing else.”

  Was this lady of the same inclination? Did she prefer her own sex? She was boldly good looking, but her attraction was most definitely feminine. Not that Andrew was any judge.

  “Perhaps they do, but I do not marry for a different reason: I can never be sure the man courting me is not a clever fortune hunter.”

  “Some men are extremely wealthy.”

  “None of them are men I wish to marry.” She shrugged. “I am nearly thirty, sir, and I believe well on the shelf. Much to my relief. I will live my life as well as I can and leave my businesses to worthy candidates when the time comes. That is enough for me. It has to be.” A touch of wistfulness echoed in her last words, but Andrew would not question her. It was none of his business. Had she met someone? Someone she couldn’t marry? That put her in a similar situation to Andrew and Darius.

  “I have seen what happens to heiresses who marry. They lose all their property and become nothing but the chattel of their husbands. I have no mind to see that happen to me. So I must forego that part of life. I am fortunate that I have the wherewithal to life in comfort and for society to continue to accept me.”

  “Speaking of
respectability, ma’am, should you not have another lady present? A companion?”

  Miss Childers dismissed that notion with a wave of her fan. “A footman stands in the corridor. He has been with me since I was a child, and he will not betray my situation to anyone. And I know you will not. My current companion is a prosy bore. I am in the process of ridding myself of her.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, I will have to replace her, but I have someone in mind.” He sipped her brandy. “And that brings us back to the business in hand. We have spent too long in here already. People will talk, if we absent ourselves much longer.”

  Here was a woman Andrew could admire. He was probably not the first person to think that, but one of the few who had absolutely no pretensions to her hand. And judging from what she had said, she knew why.

  “I have a new enterprise in mind.” She met Andrew’s gaze and then flicked a glance at Darius. “I read the account of your defense of Lord Valentinian Shaw last year, sir, and you impressed me a great deal. I may need help in a new venture I’ve a mind to engage in, but it will not be primarily in estates and management. No, the concerns are more of the criminal variety. The Waltham Acts are a disgrace, a great injustice. You can escape the noose for murder or be hanged for stealing a penny loaf. I have a group of people ready to help me in this enterprise, but I need a legal adviser.”

  “Indeed, ma’am?” His heart beat faster. “The enterprise you speak of?”

  “Will remain covert. Under my control. But the evidence and the challenges will not. I would like you to act for us in court.”

  He began to understand. Would he become part of the lady’s crusade? He could make a lot of enemies if she decided to force Parliament to reconsider the acts that were the basis of English justice. But yes, he’d seen certain things that had made his blood boil. “The best course is to take it case by case, at least at first. But you must aggregate them all and create a complete group that Parliament needs to take notice of.”

  She nodded. “I would pay you a retaining fee, of course, but I would not expect you to work for me exclusively. This is nothing to do with the bank, but I do have other business concerning my property I would like to discuss with you.”

  He held up a hand. “You don’t have to bribe me or pay me a retainer. I am with you, ma’am. I have seen enough in the courts to know that I would like to help with this work.” Oh, so now he was offering to work on a case-by-case basis? He hadn’t done that since he left Oxford.

  Andrew did not miss her glance at the clock standing by the window.

  “Why did you want me present, ma’am?” Darius asked.

  “Because of your brother, and because I need someone like you to help. You are not the only gentleman of fashion I am asking to help me. Since you two are acquainted, I thought it best to see you both together. And the other matter. That concerns you, does it not?”

  Dipping into her bosom, she drew out a piece of paper. The sight left Andrew unmoved. That, more than anything else, went a long way to convince him he would never allow another woman into his bed. If he could not get excited over this beauty, then women were just not for him.

  And they never would be.

  Darius rose in a smooth movement and took the paper. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “This man could cause the deaths of many people loyal to the crown if he is not stopped. He has a list that would put many people in danger. Your excuse might be the reason he is still in this country.”

  She met his gaze, eventually nodding. “Thank you for trusting me. If I delay him further, he may become suspicious, so you will have to act quickly.”

  “He has a contact, a man who is probably more dangerous than he is, and we want to catch him, too. This may help us.”

  “Us?”

  Darius shrugged. “Loyalists. My father knows about this matter.”

  Her nod this time was gracious enough for a queen. “I trust your father implicitly. What will you do with this person?”

  “I do not yet know. Tell my father his name, I suppose.”

  “Act for yourself,” she advised. “Bring him back to London, and let the law deal with him. If he is a traitor, he will lose everything. Reputation, fortune, and any respect he might have garnered.”

  With a rustle of her ample skirts, Miss Childers got to her feet. “I’ll say good evening, sirs. Please remain here for a short time before you leave. I shall go to my bedroom and from there to the ballroom. Needless to say, you have not seen me.”

  Andrew rose and bowed, as did Darius, when she left.

  He expelled a long breath he didn’t know he was holding.

  “Well,” Darius said. “Here we are again.”

  Chapter 8

  Greedily, Darius took in the sight of the man he wanted more than any other. Lust roared through him, urging him to pull Andrew into his arms and kiss him senseless. To remove that oh-so-neat evening coat and waistcoat, to tear the crisp white shirt away and finally touch his bare skin. He shuddered with the need to take him.

  For that reason, he didn’t move. Andrew had too much to lose, especially now. “I’m glad for you,” he said, working hard to keep his voice steady.

  “Thank you. I’m not sure I’m doing the right thing. I will make enemies by supporting her cause. But I have seen the injustices for myself. The law should be at least altered, if not changed completely.”

  If he claimed Andrew now, he would respond. His eyes, so wide, the centers so dark compared to his usual cool gray, told Darius so. As did the tense way he held himself. Did he know he had clenched his hands?

  Dear God, Darius longed to cup that face, smooth from a recent shave, to kiss away the doubts, to touch and take.

  He could not. Andrew could become an important man, a champion of the unfortunate and the unjustly accused, as well as bringing the justly accused to their reckoning. He needed his life sinless, clear, no shadow on him.

  Yet would a taste of wickedness help him? Would he see that life was not black and white, right and wrong, if Darius showed him how wonderful breaking the law could be?

  If he had Andrew, he would want more. Darius no longer doubted his feelings for this man. He was head over heels in love, and he’d better find a way to cope with it. “I will, of course, support you. I have seen the problems too, far too close for my liking. My brother’s predicament, when a totally malicious case was brought against him by those who would harm him, for instance.”

  “Yes,” Andrew said. “I thought the case weak, but it did Lord Valentinian a great deal of harm.”

  Darius shrugged. “He had himself to blame for some of it, but even that, in a way, was my fault. Because of my way of life, he chose to appear particularly flamboyant and create scandals of his own. That reputation followed him into court.”

  “He did it for you.”

  Recalling some incidents, Darius smiled. “And because he enjoyed it.”

  He had said enough. Although he loved Andrew, he could never show it, nor could he expect to be any closer than at the moment. They had no future together. Andrew would be better not knowing how Darius felt. He had his own life to live, his own career to forge. Darius shoved his hands in his breeches’ pockets and strode restlessly around the room, crossing silk-knotted rugs and highly polished mahogany floorboards indiscriminately. “We may leave soon.”

  “Are you so eager to escape?”

  “Yes.” Darius spun around, the heavy skirts of his coat hitting his thighs as they swung. “I cannot remain so close to you. I know we cannot consider what I can’t stop thinking about. So we are better apart. Let memories fade. One day you may find a wife.” Even the thought hurt him, spiking through him with sharp daggers of jealousy and regret.

  “I will not do so,” Andrew said softly.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I know.” He closed his mouth and picked up his untouched drink, tossing it off in one gulp. “I will have a career and a daughter to raise. My life will be full enough.” He said it as if
he were reciting a lesson rather than meaning it. Darius knew because he’d done it himself, created a life that he would convince himself was enough.

  It was not. But it would have to be, because he wasn’t getting anything else. A series of affairs when he could no longer resist the urges of his body was all he could expect. It sounded as if Andrew was forgoing even that. A life of celibacy, most likely. He felt the loss, his stomach sinking when he considered the waste. A good man, but without love he would harden his soul and spirit, lose that connection with other people. Perhaps his daughter could save him.

  Darius certainly could not.

  He drew the note Miss Childers had given him out of his pocket and scanned it. “It’s an inn on the Dover road and a date,” he said. “I’ll forestall him. Our quarry is to be there in four days’ time to meet his superior. Presumably he will collect his money from the bank and leave for the coast. Next Friday. If I am there waiting for him, I will have a better chance than if I arrived in the last moment. I’ll leave on Wednesday.”

  “Should I accompany you?”

  With a half smile he glanced up from the note at Andrew. “I have never seen you on a horse. I take it you can ride?”

  “If I have to,” Andrew said, stiff-lipped.

  Darius broadened his smile. “I see. Aren’t you afraid we would be too intimately connected?”

  “Not if I meet you outside the city. And we will have attendants, will we not?”

  He was brave to make the offer. One Darius would have to decline. “Indeed. Miss Childers isn’t the only person with trusted retainers. But you are best remaining here and preparing for the legal battle that could ensue. I’ll take both men if I can, or arrest Bartolini after his contact has gone. It really depends on who he is there to meet.”

  Andrew’s gaze went distant, and then he jerked up his chin and met Darius’s eyes. “When I was to meet Bartolini at Mother Fleming’s, I was to say, ‘Green apples aren’t easy to come by at this time of year.’ Code words to let him know he had met someone who could help him.”