Barely a Bride (Free Fellows League 1) - Page 12

“Spoken like a true Scot,” Jarrod retorted. “And it’s lucky for you that unattractive girls are often equipped with fat dowries. But we’re looking for Abernathy’s bride-to-be.”

“The one for whom he failed to get a name,” Colin reminded them. “Unless he manages a better description than the one you supplied, I’ve no notion how we intend to find her.” He turned to Griffin. “Can you describe her?”

Griff could. Right down to the last detail on the dress she was wearing, but he didn’t care to share that bit of information with Colin or with Jarrod. “I would know her if I saw her again.”

“Are you sure?” Colin asked. “You only caught sight of her twice.”

“I’m certain of it,” Griff replied as Colin and Jarrod exchanged knowing looks.

“Then we’d better get busy before someone else snaps her up,” Colin said.

Griff was suddenly wary. It was one thing to ask for help; it was quite another to have his friends assume command of the mission. “What do you have in mind?”

“We considered going door to door,” Jarrod teased. “To ask if the young ladies of the house would step forward and make themselves available for your careful inspection…”

“But that would take too long,” Colin added. “So we decided the most efficient way was to go home, change into our court dress, and make use of the Almack’s vouchers we’ve received.” He laughed at the grimace that crossed Griff’s face.

“Surprised you didn’t think of it yourself,” Jarrod teased.

“I did,” Griff said wryly. “But I hate knee breeches and buckled shoes, and after avoiding the place all these years, I knew better than to go alone. That’s why I invited the two of you.”

Chapter Four

“I have enlisted the aid of my brothers in arms, and together, we have formulated a plan of battle.”

—Griffin, Lord Abernathy, journal entry, 24 April 1810

“Leaving so soon?” Jarrod asked as he cornered Griff in front of a row of densely fronded potted palms separating the refreshment tables from the designated dance floor.

“So soon?” Griff arched an eyebrow. “It seems as if I’ve already spent an eternity here in Free Fellows Purgatory.”

Jarrod chuckled. “It may seem like an eternity, my friend, but in reality, we entered Almack’s hallowed doors less than an hour ago.”

“You’re joking!” Griff exclaimed. “I’ve already fended off a half dozen marriage-minded mamas and their offspring.”

“You’re not supposed to fend them off,” Colin said, coming up to join them with two glasses of watery orgeat in hand. “The whole point of being here is to find a bride.”

“I thought the point of being here was to do what has to be done so that I might join my regiment,” Griff answered.

“Call it what you will,” Colin told him. “But you’re here to find a wife.” He glanced at Jarrod and down at the glasses. “Sorry, old man, but I could only carry two, and I had to fight my way through the crowd to get these.” He handed a glass to Griff and kept one for himself. “It’s abominably hot in here.”

It was. And Jarrod was as hot and thirsty as the other two Free Fellows, but he shuddered at the sight of the watery liquid. “None for me, thanks.” While Almack’s was the place to see and be seen while bride hunting, the patronesses’ idea of refreshments suitable for unmarried ladies left quite a bit to be desired. He turned to Griff. “Grantham’s right. You came because you have to secure a bride as soon as possible if you want to join your regiment. Any sign of her?”

“None.” Griff took the glass Colin offered and downed the orgeat. “Damnation! I can’t believe I thought this was a good idea or that the two of you agreed to come here tonight. It’s worse than I thought it would be. I don’t want a bride. I don’t want to get married. All I want is to join my regiment. All I want is to fight for England.” He glared at the other two. “I’m a founding member of the Free Fellows League. I want to remain a Free Fellow. I am going to remain a Free Fellow. I cannot believe I thought I could actually go through with this… What the devil was I thinking?”

“No bride. No regiment,” Jarrod declared. “That’s what you were thinking.”

Griff shook his head. “I was thinking that I could choose the young lady who caught my fancy, offer her nothing but my name, my title, and my property, sail away without a backward glance, and still call myself a gentleman.”

“You can,” Colin assured him. “You can call yourself a gentleman and a Free Fellow as long as you don’t forget your oath.”

“My oath not to marry?” Griff asked.

“Your oath not to marry unless you have no alternative except to marry,” Jarrod answered. “And the fact is that unless you’re willing to give up your military career and our mission to defeat Bonaparte you have no alternative.”

“I’ve no wish to be any young woman’s husband, or jeopardize our mission. And forcing this decision upon me isn’t fair to either of us,” Griff said.

Jarrod shrugged. “What is ever fair in life? That’s the way these things are done. You know it, and the young lady you choose will know it. That’s all that matters.”

Tags: Rebecca Hagan Lee Free Fellows League Romance
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