Sinless (The Shaws #1.5)

“No.”

Andrew had obtained all the remaining caricatures from the printer without paying for them, although he had given the man five guineas for the information. The damage to his reputation was done, however. But he had prepared a surprise of his own.

Calmly, he got to his feet and laid a copy of the print before the general, unceremoniously shoving aside a powder box and a half-used pot of red face paint. Then he returned to his seat and waited.

The general glanced at it and guffawed. “Can’t you take a little ribbing?”

“Not when it endangers my career.” Andrew leaned back and crossed his legs, even though the pose was far from comfortable. He’d learned the skill of appearing relaxed from Darius and, as he feared he would always do, spared him a brief second of his time.

“Pshaw, it won’t do that!”

“It has already done so, sir.”

“And why should I concern myself? Surely this thing is your business.” The general met Andrew’s gaze in the mirror.

Oh, yes, the man knew all right. He’d seen the drawing, and he knew who’d commissioned it. So did Andrew, now. “Not when your son paid for it. He visited the artist, paid for a drawing to his specification, and then visited the printmaker. That,” he said, folding his hands in his lap, “is not acceptable to me.”

“The boy may do as he pleases.” The general shrugged. “Why should he not? He’s attained his majority.”

“Did he tell you the circumstance of our meeting the other night?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” The general took more notice of his appearance, touching a curl on his wig.

“Indeed, sir. The incident occurred at the house of Miss Angela Childers. She had given Lord Darius and me permission to have a brief discussion in a private parlor.” He ignored the general’s suggestive snigger. “Your son had smuggled three whores into the ball, and he proposed to entertain himself and his friends in a private room. That indicates discourtesy of the worst kind.”

“As is a…business meeting of the kind you and Lord Darius were engaging in.”

“Your son saw nothing.” Andrew refused to demean himself by lying, but he could go far enough to say, “There was nothing to see.”

The guffaw returned again. “Why do you think I sent you to that molly house? Because I knew you would fit in. I know you are of that inclination, sir. I have seen it.”

How on earth would he know? Did Andrew carry a placard on his forehead? He thought not. Now the general had what he determined to be evidence. Rumor and innuendo could prove exceedingly damaging. He had no security.

The general flicked a few fingers at the valet, who silently retreated. He picked up the rouge pot and toyed with it.

Andrew inwardly rejoiced. He was getting to his quarry. The general’s sneer at Andrew had made him feel superior, which gave Andrew a chance to slide a slim blade into his hide. He hadn’t come here for that, even though he was enjoying the experience. He had taken the time to go home and change because he wanted to come here with a clear, cool head. He had done that. Initial fury had changed to icy resolve. Strikes against him would reveal more than the general thought.

He prepared for more insults. “I wondered why you sent me. What gave me away?”

“The way you looked at Lord Darius in that trial.” A smug grin spread over the general’s rugged face. “I don’t need many clues to notice things that interest me. So when I heard that our man was with his lordship, I knew where to come.”

Andrew had steeled himself at Lord Valentinian’s trial and put himself completely into barrister mode. He had not made his interest obvious. So where and how had the general discovered his penchant for Darius?

He had not. That was the answer. He had used Andrew because he was convenient. He wanted a job done, and he turned to the nearest available person. But pretending he knew something about Andrew put Andrew in the inferior position. Andrew was supposed to admire the general. Most likely the first intimation he’d had was last night, when his son had told him about the ball. Because the general had known. He might have even paid for it.

“You were not particularly effective, but now you have learned the way I like things done, you will do better next time,” he said airily.

“Next time?”

“Do you want your preferences to come to the notice of your superiors and the people who currently employ your services?”

So that was his play. The caricature played into his hands. But Andrew had not done anything wrong. The man had nothing to use. As long as Andrew kept away from his one weakness, he would be safe from such threats.

The thought sent daggers of regret through him, as if he were grieving for the death of someone he loved. The death of love, perhaps.

He had no fear of the general or his threats. But if he pretended to be under the general’s thrall, he would probably extract more information from him.

His skin itched. There was unfinished business here, something more, and he wanted to know what it was. One thing puzzled him. “Did you come to know about the young man in the same way? The one you sent me to contact?”

General Court lifted his head, his triumph evident even in his reflection. He kept his back turned to Andrew, a sign that he was in control. Or rather, he thought he was. “I keep busy and listen. Our country needs our vigilance.” In that he was sincere. He lost the smirk and the knowing gleam in his eyes. “Especially at this time. War is hard on everyone.”

“We’ve not declared war in Europe.”

“Not yet, but you know as well as I do it is coming. That list is vital to our country’s safety.”

“Not to mention the men and women listed on it. The French will either leave them alone and spy on them, or they will simply kill them.”

“Yes.” The general hesitated and reached for the hare’s foot, the fur already stained red with rouge. He dabbed a little color on his cheeks.

He was aging, but he wanted to appear younger. The sallow skin might conceal more than age. Disease, maybe, or worry. This room was sumptuously appointed, so it wasn’t money he needed. The silver dressing table set, the gilt mirror, and the embroidered drapes around the bed would all have fetched a comfortable sum in the saleroom.

“If you had told me I was working for the country, instead of attempting to force me to do your will, I would have done it willingly.”

“Not everyone is so loyal,” the general said gruffly.

“No, indeed,” Andrew agreed smoothly. “How did you discover the name of the young man and his proclivities?” He didn’t want the general to know that he had learned the name of the youth.

“Ha! You can tell, you know. As soon as I saw him, I knew. My son—” He snapped his mouth shut.

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