Visibly trembling, Elizabeth nodded.
Darius took her for the brief time it took Andrew to remove his coat and tuck a cloth over his waistcoat. The child’s body was soft and warm. Too warm, for her fever, while not yet at a critical stage, could not be comfortable.
He began the story. “On an estate in the country called Haxby Hall, there lived a dragon.” He recalled the lake at his childhood home and the hours he and his siblings had spent sailing boats and playing in the shallows. When they were old enough they swam there, although the girls’ nursemaid called them in if they caught them, telling them they were scandalous hussies. Elizabeth liked that part. Darius felt oddly proud when he drew a smile from her.
She kept her eyes on him as he told the tale of the baby dragon that appeared one day to astonish and delight the children. The child opened her mouth in an O of delight as he described the green scales, the way the dragon had scared him and his brothers when it had roared and fire shot out of its mouth.
The doctor was quick and efficient. He had the tooth pulled in half a minute.
Darius kept going with the story. That way, if Elizabeth wanted to hear more, she would have to curtail her screams. After one shriek and a series of sobs, she did so. Darius told her how the dragon saved his older brother from drowning, heading for the end of the tale, when the dragon disappeared, but promised he would always be there to watch over them and keep them safe.
By the time he’d concluded his saga, they had Elizabeth sitting up, and Andrew was mopping the remains of the blood from her lips. Unfortunately, she had tipped forward and spilled gore on her nightgown. When Darius attempted to leave the room to give her some privacy while her father washed and changed her, she begged him to stay.
The nursemaid returned, bearing a jug covered with a cloth and a glass. “I put a bit of lemon in, sir. The barley water will taste better that way.” She glanced at her charge. Darius waited for a fainting fit, but now the deed had been done, the woman seemed steadier. “I had a tooth pulled last week,” she confessed.
Ah, that would explain it. Nobody wanted to relive an unpleasant memory so close to it happening. Especially tooth-pulling.
The doctor was remarkably quick putting his things away, wrapping them in the cloth and tucking them into his bag.
“Call me if the swelling does not go down in a day or two,” he said. “Elizabeth should feel much better after she has slept. Her mouth will be sore for a few days. I’d advise giving her soft food for a while.” He paused. “If the fever does not go down, call me tomorrow.”
A fever could be symptomatic of more than a bad tooth. If the child had a putrid throat, matters could turn considerably worse very quickly. They were not yet out of the woods.
When the doctor had gone, Andrew concentrated on settling his daughter. Darius watched the depths of his love for her, as he tended her needs himself. Exhausted, the poor child fell asleep quickly. Andrew beckoned Darius out of the room. He held out his hand. “Thank you so much for your help. I’m sorry the evening ended like that.”
Suppressing his thoughts of how the evening might have ended, Darius shook his head. “What do you have arranged for the morning?”
Andrew frowned. “Why would that concern you?”
“You intend to sit up with the child, do you not?”
“Of course.” He spoke without hesitation, indicating his devotion to his daughter. “And to answer your question, I have no vital appointments tomorrow. I can work from home.”
“Good. Otherwise, I would insist on staying. Your daughter appears to accept me, so I could give you a hand. Would you like me to stay?”
The existence of the child had come as a profound shock to Darius. Andrew had not mentioned it, neither had he mentioned a wife. Now was not the time to ask, although Darius fully intended to find out.
This time Andrew hesitated. “No. Of course you should not stay. Elizabeth is not your concern.”
Darius touched Andrew’s arm, a gesture he was hardly conscious of making until he had done it, as if the movement came naturally to him. Andrew did not move his arm away, and Darius felt relief.
“I would like her to be.”
Andrew’s eyes widened, and he didn’t speak for a moment. Darius found he liked the way Andrew paused before speaking, giving himself time to think, or making the recipient wait. It gave him the gravity Darius feared he often lacked.
“Why?”
“Because caring for you obviously means caring for her, too. Besides, I like her. Even in her distress, she showed a quick intelligence.” That was true enough. He liked people who could keep up with his way of thinking, darting from one subject to another, picking up new ideas easily.
“Very well.” Andrew paused. “We must speak. Will you return tomorrow?”
“Gladly,” Darius said, another surge of relief going through him. He would have returned anyway, but to be asked meant such more to him. “I’ll call at noon, if that suits you.”
“I’m surprised you are up at that hour.”
Darius grinned. “My mother orders breakfast for noon, but usually I have been up and about for hours.” He paused for effect. “I should say mostly.”
Andrew’s laugh, muffled because of the child sleeping, radiated pure joy, as if the buttoned-down lawyer let go for a few seconds.
Darius left the house wondering if he was in danger of falling in love with the surprisingly delightful lawyer. He’d arrived knowing his attraction to him, but he’d learned so much more since.
He stopped abruptly, ignoring the passerby who cursed under his breath at Darius’s sudden halt. He could not fall in love with anyone. That way led to his ruin.
Chapter 6
Andrew awaited Darius’s arrival with unaccustomed trepidation. Would he come? Should Andrew want to see him so much? He was once again in his office, but he’d finished the most urgent of his business and he could not concentrate on anything further.
He kept running the memory of their kiss through his mind. He had never allowed his emotions to overcome him in that way before. He had taken his decision years ago and never deviated from it. Only Darius had tempted him.
And yesterday, he’d initiated the kiss. They’d spent an unconscionable long time over dinner before they’d even touched one another, but they might as well not have bothered. He had determined to send Darius away and ask him not to return. He would have to do it today.
When the bell jangled, Andrew didn’t know whether to be glad or not. He heard a familiar voice murmuring in the hall and then a tap on his door. Andrew gave his usual quiet, “Come!”
Darius wore green today, a shade of moss that made Andrew want to sink his hands into the soft woolen fabric and discover the hard muscle beneath. The way carnal thoughts sprang into his head disturbed him.
He wanted to kiss Darius again. He wanted to go into Darius’s arms and know he was welcomed, feel the enclosing strength and give his own.
“How is she?” were Darius’s first words.
The dull day brightened somewhat, and it had nothing to do with the raindrops streaming down the window. “Elizabeth is asleep. I gave the nurse orders to keep her in bed today, but the fever left her at dawn and she is much better. Thank you for the inquiry.”
Darius frowned. “Did you think I would not ask? I would have stayed, but I thought I would be in the way. You needed time to care for your daughter.”
When Andrew nodded, Darius swept back his coat skirts and sat. Already they were settling into some kind of routine, and he could not stop himself being glad of it. He wanted this house to become home for this fascinating man.
No, of course he did not. His instincts were fighting his mind now. The mind had to win.
“I should have told you about her.”
“Tell me now.”
The maid chose that moment to bring in the te
a. She did not linger, other than casting a longing look in Darius’s direction. Obviously she did not know his reputation. Maybe not everyone in London did, Andrew thought wryly.
He took a reviving sip of tea before he began. “I married six years ago. My wife died in childbirth, and so I am a widower with a small daughter.” He smiled and let his tone soften. “Elizabeth means everything to me.”
“Did you love your wife?”
Andrew considered his answer. If he expressed a profound and deep adoration he would find his next task easier. Darius would think of him as someone who had wanted to taste the forbidden, but decided it was not for him. He would go on his way and leave Andrew in peace.
But Andrew hated lying and rarely resorted to it, although some opponents he’d had in court had tried to intimate otherwise. Their aspersions didn’t negate the truth. “No, I did not. But she adored me.”
He took another sip. He might as well unburden himself now. Darius was a perceptive man, unlikely to accept anything but the truth.
“I thought I could come to love her in time. I told you I was orphaned at a relatively young age. My uncles accepted my desire to go to Oxford and study for a law degree, rather than accept an apprenticeship in the drapery business. We are comfortably off, but not wealthy. Not luminaries. Merely one of the many families that make up the fabric of London.”
“You said you rarely left the city.”
Andrew smiled. “Even Oxford was an adventure, although I saw little of the dreaming spires and much more of the inside of the library. When I returned as a newly qualified man of law, I set to work in the family business. There was not enough to keep me occupied, so I took work from other people. I had no plan, other than to earn my living. I had a burning ambition to become a barrister, to make a difference, but that takes money. I did manage to take silk, but I had to give up my plan to serve at the Bar in order to make my living. I have prospered. I attended a Guild dinner at the Guildhall, and that is where I met Patience. She wanted me on sight, or so she informed me. She was the only child of her parents, horribly spoiled, but with an intelligence that made her suitable as my wife. People said it was a good match.”
So far, so good. Most people didn’t inquire any further. He assumed Darius would, and he was right. “So what happened? What went wrong?”
Because yes, it had gone wrong. Horribly wrong. How to explain? With Darius’s perceptive blue-gray eyes fixed on his face, Andrew felt like a man in the witness-box about to perjure himself. Except that he would not do that. Not with this man. “At Oxford I met a man. My mentor, a Fellow, a man of the cloth who taught me many things.” He swallowed. “In and out of bed.”
“Ah.”
“I considered staying. Being a wholly masculine institution, the colleges at Oxford provide a haven to men of…certain preferences.”
“I remember.” Darius’s wry twist of his lips told Andrew he understood. “It was at Oxford that I lost my innocence. Oh, I was not always the profligate you see before you now. Everyone has to learn somewhere.”
Andrew didn’t like the cynical expression on Darius’s face. But although he could have stopped, questioned Darius about his own experience, he owed it to him to tell him the rest of the story. “The man who initiated me broke my heart. You see, he preferred his bedfellows young and fresh. I was fifteen.”
Darius gasped. “That is early to study for a degree. Far too young to leave the bosom of your family.”
Andrew laughed harshly, recalling his family life. “My uncles are of a Puritan disposition. Their natural inclination is to start the day praying. It is not mine, I fear. So I left as soon as I could after my parents’ deaths. A fever took my mother and father in the same summer.”
He shook his head when Darius opened his mouth. “I mourn them, but enough time has passed for the grief to soften somewhat. I came down from Oxford with a degree and, as I said, what I thought was a broken heart. I swore I would never allow anyone so close to me again.” And he had not. He had stuck to that vow. “So what better way than to accept an arranged marriage? I thought she felt the same as I did, that we had the foundation for a good, practical marriage. That was until our wedding night when she threw herself at me and poured out her longing. She loved me.” He bit his lip, not knowing what to say. How could he express what happened without betraying Patience? Perhaps in terms of himself. “While I could not return her sentiments, I did my best.” He paused. “She wanted love, which I could not give her, much though I tried. She adored me, followed me around, begged for my attention. After Patience died, I swore to Elizabeth that she would always come first.”
Darius paled. “You did not know before?”
“If I had, I wouldn’t have married her. She deserved better than a man who could not return her love.”
“Don’t say any more. I understand.”
Darius’s unaccustomed soft tone made Andrew look up from the paper before him, the contents of which no longer made sense.
“You must be a respectable citizen for your daughter’s sake, must you not?” Darius grimaced. “Believe me. I do understand.”
“And my profession. How can I uphold the law whilst breaking it?”
“Plenty of people do.” Darius’s cynical comment was all too true. “But would you uphold the law if you considered it wrong?”
“It is my job.” He was paid well for doing so. However, much though he longed to break with the man sitting across from him, he could not. And he yearned to do it, ached to get up, walk to Darius, and kiss him until he couldn’t think any longer. And more, he wanted to touch him, feel that hard body under the silk and linen, indulge all his senses with this man.
He shook his head, forcing the vision out of his mind. “So I have a daughter. Patience died when she was born. I should have left her alone. I should not have—” He broke off. “What good is it to regret?”
“Oh, regrets can prove useful.” Darius sounded bitter. His expression had barely changed. Only the trace of lines bracketing his mouth betrayed his mood. “They teach a person what not to do again. I swore never to enter another molly house after my first attempt nearly led to disgrace for all my family.”
“Yet you did,” Andrew pointed out. “Mother Fleming threatened to boast about it in court, did you know that?”
“Yes.” Darius closed his eyes and lifted his chin, taking a breath that made the cut steel buttons on his coat glitter. “I will not scruple to tell you I had a few nervous moments when I thought of that. However, my father took care of it. He ensured the man kept silent.” He opened his eyes, meeting Andrew’s gaze squarely. “What were you doing there? Why were you attending a raid on a tediously ordinary male brothel?”
“I was looking for someone in particular.” Andrew smiled wryly. “No, not you.” He took a sip of his tea, but it was cold. He pushed it aside as Darius’s low chuckle teased his senses. “The youth who got away.”
He did not imagine the sharpened atmosphere, the change in the air. “What is he to you?”
“That is an interesting conundrum. A very attractive young man, is he not?”
“A potential lover, then?” Andrew switched into the role of interlocutor, one he was far more comfortable with than friend or a closer relationship.
Darius’s eyes half closed, and a smile quirked his lips. “Jealous?”
Yes he was, and damn Darius for noticing. “I have no reason to be jealous.”
“I think you do.” The smile broadened, damn the man. “But I fear we will have to endure one another’s company for a little while yet.”
“And that would be because…?” He left the space for Darius to answer.
Darius didn’t disappoint him. “Because we have the youth in common. Do you know his name?”
“No. Somehow he escaped. Was that your doing?” After all, when he’d approached the young man, Darius had created a dist
raction. Andrew tried vainly not to think of the distraction.
“Only that I did not want you to confront him then. I nearly had him before you approached him. He got away in the confusion.” He leaned back, crossing his legs elegantly, displaying his well-shaped calves. Although the gesture was one many men adopted, in Darius it seemed more personal, in an odd way Andrew couldn’t quite define. Or perhaps he did not want to.
“Tell me his name.” He waited for Darius to explain.
Darius raised a brow. “His real name, as far as we can tell, is Matteo Bartolini. However, his mother was English, so his command of our language is flawless. He is calling himself Matthew Canning, but that is only one of many names. We—the Emperors, that is—first became aware of him when my cousin Augustus Vernon came across him in Rome. He wrote to his brother Julius, and he apprised me. We were working on a particularly delicate matter at the time, and Bartolini was doing his best to discover the information before we had it. Augustus discovered he was working for the French, with a sideline to the Vatican. This man has no scruples. He is a spy for hire.”
Andrew heaved a sigh. “I had a feeling General Court was in deeper than he should be. He arranged the raid and sent me to quietly obtain a paper from Bartolini. The raid was to be a distraction.”
Darius closed his eyes and groaned. “I should have guessed. He has been a thorn in our sides more than once. My family, I mean. He wishes to make his mark on society, but he’s too greedy and he has no guile. His favorite way of obtaining information is to extort it by threats.” He sharpened his gaze. “Has he threatened you?”
Andrew shrugged. “He tried. He sent me to Reed—the Bow Street Runner who headed the raid.”
Darius flattened his lips. “Believe me. I do not frequent such places as a matter of course. I did once, but no more. I prefer my pleasures a little more refined and private these days.”
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