“I know who did it.” Andrew licked his lower lip.
Darius did his best not to follow the movement of that tongue or imagine what he could do with it. He failed. “Tell me.”
“General Court’s son. The young man who was so eager to defile Miss Childers’s sitting room.”
Anger surged through Darius. “I should have guessed. I did not, though I should have. He’s a young rip with more money than sense. What did you say to the general?” To stop himself reaching out to Andrew, he shoved his hands in his pockets.
“I paid a visit to the printmaker first and bought the unsold copies of the caricature. I also paid for the plate. I have it safe, in case we should have call on it, as well as a statement from the printer that Mr. Court did indeed pay for it. I thought it an act of spite, but it may be more.”
Darius suppressed his smile. It was so typical of Andrew’s meticulous method. “Did the general know his son had done that?”
“Yes,” Andrew said, grim-faced, “he did. He has plans to send his son into the country.” Andrew stared at the print before returning his attention to Darius. “Which makes me think that Mr. Court did more than pay for a scurrilous sketch.”
“Indeed?” Darius thought over what he’d learned. “Yes, you’re right. I will investigate.” He growled low in his throat, anger simmering, but caught sight of an expression on Andrew’s features that instantly changed his mood. Desire. Just a flash, relaxing the hard lines around his mouth and brightening his eyes, but Darius had seen that before, when they’d last held one another. “I will track him down.”
“It’s likely to take longer than a day. I’ll go to Dover.”
Immediately Darius shook his head. “You can’t. You have work.”
“Nothing that won’t wait.”
Something about Andrew’s expression, the way he avoided meeting Darius’s gaze, gave him pause. “Wait. Has he caused you harm already?”
Andrew shook his head.
“Has he?” Crossing the room, Darius put his hands on Andrew’s shoulders and gripped tightly, his fingertips biting into the woolen fabric. “Tell me!”
At first, Andrew didn’t move. Then he lifted his head. His eyes were chips of ice. “Nothing I cannot mend. I’m certain of it.”
He said that last as if he were trying to convince himself rather than Darius. “He has, has he not? He will not do it again. I will promise you that.” The anger simmering in him turned into a full-blown flare of fury. “No careless act will destroy a career as promising as yours.” Already plans fulminated in his head. He would destroy the bastard. He could laugh at the caricature, but Andrew did not have the same protection Darius could call on.
“I don’t think it was careless. There’s something else.”
Their eyes met in a desperate clash of need and anger. “What did he do?”
Andrew stared at him. “That is my concern.”
“It’s mine too. If we can be nothing else to one another, you are my friend. What did he do? For God’s sake, man, climb down. We need no pride, nothing between us but right and honor. Tell me, or I will make it my business to find out myself.”
A laugh spluttered out from between Andrew’s lips. “You would, would you not?”
“Aye. Believe it.”
“Oh, I do.”
Warmth seeped through the anger, forcing Darius to give a reluctant smile in his turn.
Andrew caught his breath. “Don’t do that. Don’t look at me like that.”
“How should I look at you, then? But you do not distract me, my dear. Tell me what he did.” He softened his voice, asked as a friend, a man who would be more were circumstances different.
“Very well.” Andrew sighed. “Simply because I believe you. It is surely nothing. The head of my chambers asked me not to return for a while. He has ordered the clerk to assign my cases to someone else.”
“But he has not barred you?”
“No. And a few clients withdrew their cases from my other work. Not an avalanche.”
“They were important to you.”
Andrew nodded.
Before he did something stupid, like haul Andrew into his arms, Darius released him. “I see. So you must wait on events and keep yourself above suspicion?”
“Yes. I only came to tell you what I thought and ask for your help. Young Court moves in your circles, not in mine. I did not come to throw all my troubles into your lap.”
Darius spun around and took a pace away from the source of his temptation. Already his mind raced with possibilities. He was not an Emperor for nothing. “Yes, your plan is best. I have ordered a carriage made ready for first light to take me to Dover. I would have ridden there, but I may need a vehicle to bring the spy back to town. You take it instead. I’ll stay in town and discover what I can about Court and his son.”
The visits he intended to make would do just that. “You’ll be in Dover the day after tomorrow, and you may meet with Bartolini.” The spy was the least of this business, he was sure of it. He would ruin the Courts if they dared to lay a finger on Andrew. He would not allow it. Where two clients withdrew, more would follow. Andrew would know that as well as he did.
“I have ordered the coachman and two particularly burly footmen to attend me tomorrow. They should prove very useful. You may take them into your confidence. In fact, tell them the man is a spy, and they will move heaven and earth to help. Don’t let them kill him.”
“I will most certainly not.” Andrew spoke quietly, his manner subdued. When Darius turned to face him, he noted the pinched features, the hands tightly clasped together. Andrew was worried.
“Would you have told me your troubles if I had not asked?”
“You are not my patron. You do not employ me. So, no. I will come about.”
Darius would ensure Andrew did not suffer from their association. That would be the pleasurable part of his visits. At least, not employ him, exactly, but he knew where work was to be had. “You will stay to dinner?”
“I am not dressed for dinner with a marquess.”
Recalling his family, Darius grinned. “You’d be surprised. We are dining en famille, as far as I know. If my parents have asked anyone to dinner, it will be friends. This isn’t a grand occasion. Stay. Please.”
A little warmth sparked in Andrew’s eyes. “Very well. Thank you for the invitation.”
Seeing the members of his family with this honorable, intelligent man warmed Darius to his soul. As he’d expected, his father came down to dinner dressed much as Andrew was, with propriety but not grandeur. His parents planned to spend the evening at home.
“It is one reason I prefer London at this time of year,” his mother confided to Andrew. “The season is frantic, three or four entertainments every night, not counting the opera or the other public pursuits. October and November are much more pleasurable.”
“Not to mention profitable,” the marquess put in. “I can engage in business much more easily. And I thank heaven we have no more daughters to bring out.” He rolled his eyes. “Though two to settle.”