“Time was,” Darius’s father said, “that players knew their place. However, the world is upside down these days.”
He had said that to provoke her to more protestations, and she took the bait. The family could enjoy their meal in relative peace, certain the marchioness would ask no more intrusive questions. She had the perception of an eagle when she wanted it. Fortunately, she was easily distracted, otherwise she would know everything about everyone.
When the ladies rose to go to the dining room, Darius’s mother had one parting shot. “If you are taking the traveling coach, Mr. Graham, why do you not stay the night?”
She glided out, followed by her daughters.
A strong urge to persuade Andrew to stay the night, even if they spent it in different rooms, took Darius with shocking urgency, but he quelled his desire. This was not the time or the place. He would lie awake in an agony of desire, but how sweet to know they were sharing the same roof!
He dared not allow it. Before he could speak, Andrew politely declined. “I have a few instructions for my staff, and I need to see my daughter before I leave.”
“It is so charming to see a man so devoted to his child!” Putting her hand to her heart, she let it flutter among the profuse lace of her bodice. “I will leave instructions to have a collation placed in the carriage.”
“I like the way our son assumes he can use the traveling coach,” the marquess said, one dark brow lifting.
“I will pay you for the privilege, if you wish.” Darius was not amused, particularly since his father knew exactly why he’d ordered the carriage made ready. “I have not ordered the large traveling coach but the smaller. And the crest will be covered.” They had a small panel they used to cover the crest when they didn’t want to be recognized. It would be foolish to take the carriage and announce their presence.
“I know.”
Andrew got to his feet. “I should go,” he said. “I will return tomorrow, early.”
What would he think if Darius came down to him in the morning in his nightshirt? He really had to stop thinking like this. He had work to do. In pursuance of that aim, he got to his feet, too. “I need to leave, but I’m for the town. I have particular inquiries to make.”
His father waved his hand, dismissing the last footman who had lingered to refill the decanters. When they were alone, finally he lost his superior air. “Do not, either of you, step into danger. I have been making inquiries of my own. I do not need to tell you these people are dangerous. Do not allow your sense of loyalty to your country lead you into a perilous situation. I will continue to make queries about the general and his son, but Darius, do not make your queries too pointed. Andrew, the footmen who accompany you are completely trustworthy. They will do as they are instructed, and they will take it upon themselves to ensure your safety. You may count on them.”
“Thank you, sir,” Andrew said. Suddenly, to everyone in the house, he was Andrew. Darius didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry about that. After all, Andrew had saved Darius’s brother from the gallows, but they had not called him by his first name then. Only now, when Darius had called him his dear friend and invited him to dinner.
At the door, Darius offered to walk with Andrew, but he refused.
“I know the streets better than I know the back of my hand,” he said.
Darius spoke quietly. “Take care. You mean far too much to me to throw yourself away on this task.” He bit his lip. He had been determined to say nothing. He shook Andrew’s hand, despair at his lack of control spearing him. “I’m sorry. I know what we decided. I will respect that.”
“I know you will. You take care too. We may both be walking into danger.”
For an instant Darius’s mood was reflected in Andrew’s eyes. It was not right that they should suffer like this, but what else could they do?
Andrew continued his narrative in a rush of words. “I care too, but it is not possible.” Turning abruptly, he strode away.
“For me,” Darius murmured. “Take care for my sake as much as yours.”
Chapter 12
Darius spent the evening talking and smiling for all he was worth. At least at this season he was mainly avoiding politicians and toadies, instead of the rabid matchmaking mamas of the spring season. At one point he reflected a woman with a pretty girl in tow would be more to his taste. At least he might have a chance of some bland, predictable conversation.
Bearing what his father and Andrew said, Darius used all the skills he could muster to make it appear he was merely out for entertainment. Bearing the mood of a bored, spoiled aristocrat, he flitted from one ball to the other one taking place that night. At least the pleasure gardens were closed for the season. Barreling along Vauxhall’s deliberately ill-lit lanes and grottoes did not appeal to him in the least.
At the second ball, he got the sniff of a suspicion. A colleague, a man who didn’t care what sex he took to bed as long as they were enthusiastic participants, nodded affably to him. “Have you heard they’re resurrecting Mother Fleming’s?”
“No, I hadn’t. At the same place?”
“God, no.” Lord Morgan spread a chicken skin fan and waved it in a desultory way. Even under the heat of a hundred candles, the evening was far from hot, so the gesture was merely for effect. He did it well, though. His ambiguousness had caused a great deal of scandal, covering his activities as a clever politician when he needed it to. He had made a fortune from his stint at the Admiralty. “That place has reverted to type. It’s a common tavern once more. But you can’t keep a good whore down. The lady—” He coughed behind his fan delicately. “The person has set up another establishment near the Cocoa-Tree.”
“An interesting development. Do you plan to go?”
“Only when the fuss has died down. Mother Fleming claimed benefit of clergy.” He rolled his eyes.
“Again?” Mother Fleming had pleaded benefit of clergy several times before. However, if he’d done it in front of John Fielding at Bow Street, he would not do it there again. And his new establishment was well within the magistrate’s purview. “I would like to see benefit of clergy done away with. It was intended to promote literacy, but using the same passage is crassly stupid.”
Benefit of clergy gave a person accused of most crimes a not guilty verdict. All the accused had to do was read a selected part of the Bible. That it was the same passage meant most of the criminal fraternity knew at least one paragraph of the book by heart.
“I would tear the whole passage up or open any book and select a paragraph at random,” Morgan said. “But no. Were you aware that there is a secret passage from the Cocoa-Tree to Piccadilly?”
“No,” Darius said, fascinated.