Hardly a Husband (Free Fellows League 3)

Jarrod replied. "And I only wish to purchase the living, along with the rectory and the glebe."

Lord Dunbridge leaned his elbows on the table, steepled his fingertips, and pressed his mouth against them. "For what purpose?"

"To adjoin it to my existing property."

"Which would give you ownership of everything in Helford Green." Lord Dunbridge took another drink of coffee. "I'm afraid the Helford Green benefice is not for sale."

Jarrod drew his brows together. He hadn't touched his coffee or the plate of refreshments except to trace the silver rim of his cup with the pad of his index finger in a clockwise direction. "I'm offering top price."

Dunbridge took a deep breath. "It isn't for sale to you at any price, Lord Shepherdston."

"May I ask why not?"

"It's been in my family for years," Dunbridge answered, "and I've no wish to part with it. I took my first at Trinity College, you know. And was ordained into the clergy."

"Yes, I know," Jarrod answered.

Dunbridge smiled. "I'd heard you were a thorough man, Lord Shepherdston, and I see that you've done your research."

Jarrod acknowledged the other man's compliment. "I like to know with whom I'm dealing."

"Then you must know that while I've nothing against you, I rather enjoy knowing there's a portion of Bedfordshire that belongs to someone other than the mighty Marquess of Shepherdston."

"Fair enough," Jarrod allowed.

"And that I rather enjoy knowing the Helford Green church and glebe are mine to award to whomever I like," Dunbridge continued. "Whenever and however I like."

"Which brings us to the topic of selecting a new rector to fill the position left by Reverend Eckersley's untimely death."

"Are you offering to purchase the glebe because you've someone in mind for the position?"

"I might," Jarrod replied. "Either way, the Marquesses of Shepherdston are traditionally consulted before a selection is made. We have been the principal landowners in Bedfordshire for generations and the principal patrons of the church in Helford Green despite the fact that we've never possessed the living." Jarrod shrugged his shoulders and pretended a nonchalance he didn't feel. "I had hoped, in coming here today, that I might remedy that situation and relieve you of the chore of overseeing property in a distant county by adding the rectory and the glebe to my already substantial holdings."

"I never took you or the previous marquess to be particularly re

ligious men," Dunbridge said rather pointedly.

Jarrod eyed the viscount's ridiculously high collar and elaborately tied cravat, tight trousers and bright waistcoat, and the dark curls he brushed forward to minimize his receding hairline, and answered in kind. "Were I to judge you by your appearance, I might make the same assumption about you, Dunbridge." He stared at the older man. "The fact is that I was christened and received my religious training in that church. It holds a special place in my memories and since you have only rarely set foot inside it, I didn't realize the attachment it held for you. You see, Lord Dunbridge, while your family owned the land and the crumbling remains of a sixteenth-century abbey, your predecessors were unable to finance the construction of a church."

"Yet the church stands upon the abbey's remains." Dunbridge didn't bother to conceal his smirk.

"Only because my ancestor financed the construction of it in order that the villagers might worship there. My tithes continue to fund the church, as do the tithes of the people employed in my household, who make up the vast majority of the parishioners. And I had hoped the owner of the living would take those facts into consideration before choosing the next rector."

"I'm afraid you're too late in presenting your concerns, Lord Shepherdston," Dunbridge said in an obsequious tone of voice Jarrod was certain bore no resemblance to the man's true feelings. "We've already awarded the living."

"We?" Jarrod queried.

"Bishop Fulton and I."

"Then the rumors are true," Jarrod pronounced in a regretful tone of voice that bore no resemblance to his true feelings either. He met the viscount's unblinking gaze and found it entirely too reptilian.

"I wasn't aware there were rumors circulating London over anything as inconsequential as the selection of a new rector for a village the size of Helford Green," Dunbridge retorted.

"There are rumors about everything in London," Jarrod reminded him. "No matter how inconsequential." He reversed direction and began to trace the silver rim of his coffee cup counterclockwise. "The only thing in question is the veracity of the rumors and I suppose I've no choice but to put that to the test by asking you for confirmation."

Dunbridge laughed and reached for another crumpet. "You can't expect that I should know all the rumors going about town. Or be able to verify them."

"You'll be able to verify the answer to this one," Jarrod told him, well aware that the game of cat and mouse was about to begin in earnest. "I heard the name of the man you've chosen as the new rector is a Reverend Phillip Tinsley."