Hardly a Husband (Free Fellows League 3)

Griff shook his head. He and Sussex were the highest-ranking Free Fellows, but Jarrod was the leader of the group and the two dukes deferred to his leadership. "Not yet."

"You haven't seen him?"

"Not since last night," Griff explained. "And I only saw him briefly from across the room last night. By the time I made it through the crush to where I'd seen him standing, he was gone." He turned to Jonathan. "Barclay saw him, too."

"So he made it back safely." Jarrod heaved a sigh of relief. He hated sending the sitting Duke of Sussex on secret missions because there would be hell to pay and a million questions to answer if anything happened to him.

Griff nodded. "You can rest easily on that account. His Grace made it back to town safe and sound."

"Then where is he?" Jarrod asked, pinning each of them with a look.

"Unless he escorted a lady home from the party and decided to stay overnight or simply overslept, we've no idea," Barclay answered.

"We need to get an idea," Jarrod told them. "I've a very full schedule this morning, with personal matters that demand my immediate attention and meetings at the War Office in a few hours with men who require the most accurate and current information we can give them on the French movements along the coast." He finished his coffee and set the empty cup on its saucer on the silver tray. "As there's no point in meeting without him, let's see if we can find our errant King Arthur before eleven of the clock this morning."

"Where shall we begin?" Courtland asked. "Anywhere but Madam Theodora's," Jarrod replied.

Puzzled, Barclay asked, "Why not?" Everyone knew Madam Theodora's was the Free Fellows' preferred house of pleasure.

"Because that's where I'm going to look," Jarrod answered. "I'll see you all here at the usual time this evening."

"Well," Colin drawled as Jarrod left the room, "our Merlin must have a personal matter that demands immediate attention."

* * *

Chapter Nine

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Skill'd to retire, and in retiring draw

Hearts after them tangled in amorous nets.

— John Milton, 1608-1674

"Whats the meaning of this?" Jarrod tossed the worn calling card on the top of Madam Theodora's elegant gilt writing desk.

"Lord Shepherdston!" Madam Theodora looked up from her ledger book and smiled a warm, welcoming smile. "What a wonderful surprise! But I must warn you that if you've come looking for Lord Mayhew, you will find him in the Green Salon auditioning a roomful of girls." She leaned forward. "It seems he's developed a taste for red-haired innocents half his age."

"Actually," Jarrod drawled, "I came looking for Miss Jones's Home for Displaced Women." He tapped the edge of the calling card against the gilt surface of her desk. "According to this, it's located at number forty-seven Portman Square. I believe that's the number on this door."

Theodora blanched, then reached for the card with a trembling hand. "Where did you get this?"

"Someone left it on the floor of my study," Jarrod replied.

"That's impossible!" Theodora exclaimed. "Those cards are only sent to — " She broke off when she recognized the implacable look on Jarrod's face.

"Displaced women?" Jarrod suggested in his deceptively silky drawl.

"Yes!" Theodora seized the opportu

nity to confirm his suggestion. "They are sent to women in need. Women who have no place to go."

"And you welcome these women into your home with open arms out of the goodness of your heart."

"I feed and clothe and shelter them," Theodora told him. "Even educate them if necessary. I provide them with a home and family and companionship."

"And I take it the companionship is almost exclusively male."