Sinless (The Shaws #1.5)

She laughed, but quietly, a skill in itself. Laughter usually took Andrew by surprise, and it showed on the occasions when amusement broadsided him. “I shall have to learn. Doubtless if you were required to do so, you would master the technique. Ah, your grace.”

Andrew stood back while the grandee greeted his hostess, marking the way he led her to the center of the room and bowed to her. The quartet struck up, and the floor cleared, except for the couples engaged in the first minuet.

Although she had told him to learn, Andrew decided to leave the lesson for another time. He had a note to read.

Twenty minutes later, having followed the instructions, Andrew found the small and charming sitting room two floors above. The walls were decorated with green silk, and portraits of Miss Childers’s parents hung there. Not in the gracious poses formal portraiture demanded, but arm in arm, walking their dog, a large collie. Another showed a couple admiring an estate, with a house in the distance.

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?”

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