“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 distraction. 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.