Jarrod nodded.
"You didn't send for her?"
"I couldn't have sent for her," Jarrod said, "even if I had wanted to because I didn't know she was in town until she showed up on my doorstep."
"When you escorted her home, where did you take her?"
"She's staying at Ibbetson's Hotel. I took her there."
"Did you see her go in?"
Jarrod thought for a moment. He had let her out in front of the hotel, but he hadn't seen her go inside. Jarrod narrowed his gaze at his godfather. "I've answered your questions. Now, why don't you tell me why you asked them?"
"Because I found this on the floor of your study after you and she departed." Lo
rd Mayhew took a well-worn calling card from his jacket pocket and handed it to Jarrod.
"Miss Jones's Home for Displaced Women," Jarrod read aloud. "Number forty-seven Portman Square, London." He looked up at Mayhew. "I don't recall a home for displaced women on Portman Square."
"That's because there isn't one," Mayhew said.
"And number forty-seven Portman Square is…" Jarrod jumped to his feet. "Bloody hell!"
"I take it the young lady isn't a virgin after all," Mayhew guessed.
"Oh, she is," Jarrod answered, crossing the room to ring for Henderson. "But she won't be for long. Not if she intends to pay a call to number forty-seven Portman Square."
Henderson appeared almost immediately. "More coffee, sir? Or are you ready to break your fast?"
Jarrod glanced at his godfather.
Lord Mayhew shook his head.
"No," Jarrod answered, walking to his desk and hurriedly scribbling out two notes before blotting and sealing them. "Tell Fenton I need hot water for shaving and a fresh shirt and linen immediately. And see that these are delivered right away." He handed Henderson the notes. "And please order my coach readied and brought around as soon as possible."
"Very good, sir." Henderson bowed before exiting the study.
"Take my coach," Mayhew offered. "And save yourself some time. I'll stay here."
"I can't take your coach," Jarrod told him. "Because you're going to need it to take you to Portman Square."
"Why am I going to Portman Square?"
"Because I've a previous engagement elsewhere," Jarrod explained.
"I won't recognize the person you seek," Lord Rob replied. "All I saw was red hair, a shapely leg, and the birthmark on her round little bottom."
"She has a birthmark?"
Lord Rob nodded. "Yes, indeed. A strawberry-shaped one on her right cheek."
"Ask for the newest red-haired innocent with a strawberry birthmark." Jarrod flung the words over his shoulder as he left the study and took the stairs two at a time.
"Dyed red or natural?"
"Natural," Jarrod answered. "And pay whatever it takes to keep her innocent until I get there."
* * * * *