"Of course," Dunbridge told him. "Brummell is the one who suggested it. He said I should marry and get myself an heir before I got too set in my ways. He remarked upon it again just last week."
"Again?"
"Yes," Lord Dunbridge confided. "He first remarked upon my need for a bucolic bride several months ago. He declared it should be a nice little nobody who would look up to me and be a satisfactory ornament upon my arm when we were out among the ton, but who would be most happy rusticating alone in the country."
"Did he, now?" Jarrod had never understood the fascination Brummell held for the prince regent and most of the other members of the ton. As far as Jarrod was concerned, George — nicknamed Beau — Brummell was a fastidious manipulator who used his wit and elegant taste to dupe those in the ton who had neither.
"But when I approached Reverend Eckersley with the matter, he informed me that he didn't feel his daughter and I would suit because Miss Eckersley had her heart set upon marrying someone else." Lord Dunbridge shrugged his shoulders. "I, of course, determined to set my cap for someone else until I realized that I would be doing Miss Eckersley a favor by sparing her the embarrassment of wearing her heart on her sleeve for someone who did not return her affections." Lord Dunbridge studied Jarrod, gauging his reaction. "And when Reverend Eckersley died suddenly, shortly after our conversation, I considered it a good omen and a sign that mine was the best course of action. I determined to press my suit with Miss Eckersley and, to my great delight, she accepted."
Jarrod fought to maintain his friendly facade a bit longer. "Have you consulted Brummell since Miss Eckersley accepted your proposal?"
"Of course," Dunbridge affirmed. "Brummell knows all there is to know about good taste and fashion and he is the regent's dearest friend. It's our hope that His Grace, the archbishop of Canterbury, will perform the ceremony and that the prince regent will stand in for Miss Eckersley's father and give the bride away."
"That would be quite an honor," Jarrod said.
"If it can be arranged," Dunbridge continued spinning his Banbury tale, "for we wish to be married in London and have our hearts set on Westminster and as you know, Prinny does so love to spend the end of the season at Brighton."
"Will you go to Brighton?"
"Oh, no." Dunbridge shook his head. "If Prinny and the archbishop cannot do the honors, then Bishop Fulton has agreed to perform the ceremony and Squire Perkins, the magistrate, has agreed to act in Reverend Eckersley's stead and give the bride away." He gave Jarrod a speculative look. "I don't suppose you'd care to attend…"
"Miss Eckersley's wedding?" Jarrod grinned broadly. "I wouldn't miss it for the world! Just name the day and time. I'll be there with bells on."
"Then I shall see you there, Lord Shepherdston," Dunbridge said. "Just as soon as Brummell settles on the date. Provided, of course, that he decides you should be invited."
"Why shouldn't I be invited?" Jarrod asked.
"It's my understanding that Brummell doesn't particularly care for you, Lord Shepherdston. It seems you've made a point of slighting him."
Slighting him? Jarrod frowned. He barely paid attention to the man. But, of course, Brummell demanded attention whenever he entered a room and would surely consider Jarrod's lack of interest in his comings and goings a slight.
"Of course an apology just might be the thing," Dunbridge suggested. "After all, Beau Brummell is the arbiter of everything fashionable in London," he reminded Jarrod. "It doesn't do to get on his bad side."
"No, of course not," Jarrod answered in as conciliatory a tone as he could manage. "You're exactly right, Lord Dunbridge. And since I would truly like to be present when Miss Eckersley weds, I'll do my utmost to make it happen."
"That's very smart of you, Lord Shepherdston, because the Beau will do his utmost to ensure that hers is a most spectacular wedding. He's very good to those in his set. And I'm quite certain that once you've made your apology, he'll be delighted to have you as a guest." Dunbridge talked as if he'd rather
marry George Brummell than Sarah Eckersley. "Once everything between the two of you is resolved, I'll see that you're made aware of the day." He smiled at Jarrod. "I'll wager Brummell already has an idea which day will prove to be the best day for a wedding."
"Let's hope he has an idea for a better groom," Jarrod replied. "Because I'll wager that if Miss Eckersley decides to accompany any man down the aisle at the end of the season, it won't be you."
Dunbridge glared at Jarrod. "I'll take that wager, Lord Shepherdston. Because I've no doubt that Miss Sarah Eckersley will marry me at the end of the season. She has no choice. She's in mourning. The doors of the ton are closed to her for another four months. And I've already let it be known that she belongs to me. Who would dare challenge my right to her — especially when she comes with no dowry and an aging aunt in tow? I'll send you notice to mark your calendar when the time comes. And as you know so much about me, you ought to know that I never leave anything to chance." He pushed back his chair and stood up. "What would make a suitable wedding present, I wonder?" He tapped his finger against his cheek, pretending to give the matter serious thought. "Shall we make it official and say five hundred pounds?"
Jarrod shrugged his shoulders. "Why not make it official and say a thousand pounds?"
"Done," Dunbridge replied. "Thank you for the coffee and refreshments, Lord Shepherdston, and forgive me for taking such delight in the moment, but it's not every day that one gets the best of the Marquess of Shepherdston. Brummell was right in advising me that I should refuse to do business with you. It has been a pleasure."
"One hasn't gotten the better of the Marquess of Shepherdston," Jarrod retaliated. "And I don't care a twopenny damn about Brummell's advice."
"I still own the Helford Green living," Dunbridge crowed. "And whoever owns the living at Helford Green owns Miss Eckersley. I own both."
"Do you?" Jarrod asked. "For I was told that you had ceded the living back to the Church."
"That arrangement is temporary."
"Indeed it is," Jarrod informed him. "As temporary as your alleged betrothal to Miss Eckersley. Because my representatives are negotiating the sale of the Helford Green living with His Grace, the archbishop of Canterbury, even as we speak."
"Bishop Fulton…" Dunbridge began.