What? His son shared his preferences? From what he’d seen last night, Andrew doubted that. True, sometimes men would force themselves to perform with a woman to allay suspicion, but last night Mr. Court had no reason to do so. He had planned to defile Miss Childers’s home out of devilry. Or something else?
A suspicion uncurled in Andrew’s mind. Had the general recruited his son to help with his work? He seemed remarkably eager to call people in to help him. “May I regard your son as an ally in this delicate matter?”
“No!”
That word had definitely come out too loud, too sharp-edged. The general’s son was either in league with his father or he was playing some game of his own. “I am not to confide in him, then?”
“You will not meet him,” the general stated. “He has no reason to become involved. Not now.”
Not now? “Where is he now?”
“What business is it of yours?”
Andrew shrugged. “I told you of his exploits last night. I thought you might want to keep track of his movements for a while.”
He had his clue. He should be able to discover the rest for himself. The general’s son was involved in this mess somehow, and General Court was very defensive when his son was mentioned in conjunction with the list.
At last the general turned around. “I will tell you the truth, and then you will drop the matter. I can see that if you do not, you will stir up any amount of hornets’ nests. You must swear not to tell anyone what I am about to tell you.”
“Sir, I am a loyal subject of his majesty. If anything you tell me transgresses the law, I cannot make that promise.”
The general sighed. “Then you can know nothing.”
Andrew had guessed some of it. “He is in trouble, is he not?”
“Not precisely.” General Court sighed as if the world were resting on his shoulders. “Although he has come perilously close. I have decided it is necessary to send him into the country. He is rusticating until the beginning of the season.”
Although he had no love for the general, Andrew felt sorry for the man. He had a wild son who needed taming. He could almost feel sorry for the man. Andrew got to his feet. “Keep the boy away from me and the people I love.”
Only when he stood in the street once more did Andrew realize what he’d just said.
He couldn’t think about that now. He had work to do.
Chapter 11
Darius ached. He’d had no idea he would find forgetting Andrew so difficult. He had barely touched the man, after all. What on earth was he thinking, to allow himself such self-indulgent dreams?
After all this time he should know better. He had no business dreaming of a happy ending. His life didn’t hold one.
He had bidden farewell to the man he wanted more than any other, and that had to be the end of the matter. If only he could stop thinking about Andrew, wondering what he was doing and if he missed Darius.
He would leave town tomorrow. After he had obtained and disposed of that damned list, he’d go to the country, pay his respects to his sisters, his older brother, and new sister-in-law who were snugly tucked up at Haxby for the winter. His parents would follow after his father had attended Parliament next month and attended to a few matters of state. The glimmer of an idea that had come to him seemed even more distant when day broke. While he was willing to risk all, he could not ask Andrew to do so. He had no right to ask him to disrupt his life so thoroughly.
While he’d thought he understood what being born in a fortunate position meant, Andrew had pushed him into reality and made him see what it was really like. Andrew could lose his profession, which meant losing his house, his reputation, and in short order, everything.
Yet Darius wanted him so badly he ached. Perhaps now was the time to remind himself he was an adult, and he had to take responsibility for his actions. Stop thinking about what was right for him. He couldn’t have everything in this life.
He would go to the inn at Dover, collect the list, and either take the spy into custody or ensure he took passage to France. Whatever he could do, he would do it. Then he would come home and forget everything.
No, he would, for once, behave like an adult.
After giving orders to his valet to prepare a bag for a short visit out of town, he commenced dressing for dinner. When he heard the front doorbell ring, he assumed his mother had invited dinner guests.
A footman entered his bedroom to tell him someone waited downstairs for him. “Mr. Graham, sir,” he said, proffering the salver with Andrew’s visiting card.
Darius took it, not because he needed it, but because Andrew had touched it a few minutes before. He could imagine it was still warm from his touch, although it felt cold to his fingers. He stroked the pasteboard, until he realized he was doing it. Then he dropped the object hastily and gave the footman a nod. “Inform my father Mr. Graham is here. He may want to invite him to dinner. Where did you take him?”
“The morning parlor, my lord.”
Not the drawing room? Was Andrew not considered good enough? Darius compressed his lips tightly as he gave the man a nod and got to his feet, batting Richardson aside when he tried to help him into his coat. Instead, he picked up the precious item and thrust his arms through the sleeves as he headed downstairs. Ignoring his valet’s wail of despair, he strode down to the main floor and found the breakfast parlor on the garden side of the house.
Andrew was not dressed for dinner, but in his usual neat but modest black and cream, his coat unadorned except for the row of polished steel buttons, the waistcoat the same.
Darius felt overdressed in his white satin heavily embroidered waistcoat and dark green coat adorned with gold braid.
A surge of pure joy swept all other considerations away. So much that he sucked in a deep breath and stuck his feet to the floor, refusing to move closer. Supremely in control of himself, he pasted a welcoming, though polite, smile on to his lips. Given the choice, he’d far rather greet him with a kiss.
“A surprise, but not an unwelcome one.” He paused, considering the visit. “I thought you wanted us to keep our distance.”
“I do, but I need your help.” Andrew’s jaw was set, his mouth tight.
That knowledge came as no comfort to him. “You know I will do whatever you need,” he said, and meant it. Very few people could call on him in that way. Andrew headed the list.
“You haven’t heard what I want yet.”
“I don’t have to. You’re asking me for something. That’s enough.” He meant every word. He drank in Andrew’s presence, even the silver eyes so bleakly staring into his. “Please, Andrew. Just ask.”
Andrew nodded and returned his gaze to Darius’s as if he were as hungry. “I visited General Court.”
“Did he send for you?”
“I went to him.” Andrew drew a folded paper from his pocket and dropped it on the table.
Darius touched it, unfolded it, and saw the scurrilous caricature his cronies at the coffee table had considered so amusing. He had disabused them. “I know. The best we can do is ignore it. Another amusement will replace it. If the man who did it knows we care, he will continue.”