Hardly a Husband (Free Fellows League 3)

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These widows, sir, are the most perverse creatures in the world.

— Joseph Addison, 1672-1719

Jarrod wasn't quite certain how or why it had happened, but he knew without a doubt that it had happened. Lady Dunbridge had bested him. He had been expertly outmaneuvered by a woman he'd never imagined might be capable of doing it.

Jarrod exhaled. He had to admire the way Lady Dunbridge had handled him, turning every situation from disadvantage to advantage, patiently maneuvering him into agreeing to do her bidding. It was brilliant strategy. And it had worked because he'd never seen it coming. Jarrod squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. She was to be commended for doing the near impossible.

In the space of an hour he had gone from being his own man to becoming little more than an entree into the rarefied world of the ton, an escort assigned to garner invitations, protect Sarah and her aunt from rogues like Reggie Blanchard, and open the ton's doors — and keep them open — despite the fact that the ladies from Helford Green were in mourning.

"I don't know how she managed it." Jarrod looked into his shaving mirror and met his butler's gaze as he detailed the results of his meeting with Lady Dunbridge. "One minute I was adamantly informing her that I had done everything in my power to help her and in the next moment, I found myself hoodwinked into escorting her and her niece to a ball this evening."

"Females have a way of doing that, sir," Henderson commiserated. "I'm not sure how they accomplish it either, but I suspect they do it with their tongues…"

Jarrod groaned at Henderson's description, for the mention of tongues brought back a vivid memory of kissing Sarah, of plundering the depths of her mouth, of tasting her thoroughly.

"They talk us to death," Henderson continued, explaining his theory. "They use so many words in so many different ways that we get tired of listening. And the minute we stop listening to every word, they turn the tables on us and take control of everything."

Jarrod eyed his butler with newfound respect. Henderson had spent a lifetime in service and his insight into the nature of men and women was uncanny. "I believe that's exactly how it happened," Jarrod admitted. "Although I thought I was listening to every word, it's now quite apparent to me that I missed a few vital ones."

"You could always beg off," Henderson suggested. "Plead a previous engagement or an emergency of some sort."

"I could," Jarrod agreed. "But I won't." He looked at Henderson. "I gave Lady Dunbridge my word and I intend to keep it."

"Then send a note 'round to the members of the ton who covet your presence at their gatherings and ask that as a personal favor to you, they include the ladies in all your invitations just as they would if the ladies were your relatives or your houseguests."

Jarro

d nodded. "That's an excellent way to ensure the ladies receive invitations to all the coveted events of the season, Henderson, but they'll still require an escort to keep Lord Dunbridge at bay."

Henderson frowned. He'd seen the invitations to tonight's events. He knew which society ladies were hosting balls. "May I inquire to which ball you intend to escort the ladies?"

"Lady Garrison's."

"Lady Garrison's, sir?" Henderson's frown grew fiercer. "Are you certain you wish to attend that ball?"

"I don't wish to attend any ball," Jarrod answered. "But the ladies would like to attend Lady Garrison's."

"Do you have to take them, sir?" Henderson asked, handing Jarrod a towel as the marquess finished shaving. "You're still dead on — " Henderson caught himself. "You look exhausted."

"I'll be fine." Jarrod took the towel and wiped the remnants of shaving soap from his face before swiping a trickle of water from his chest and tossing the towel aside. "I slept."

After leaving Lady Dunbridge at Ibbetson's Hotel, Jarrod had returned home and spent an hour catching up on his correspondence. He'd written a note to Bishop Fulton offering a generous donation to fund a new addition to the cathedral in Bath in exchange for the bishop's recommendation that the Church sell him the Helford Green benefice and glebe. Then he'd written to the archbishop of Canterbury requesting an audience at Lambeth Palace following morning services. He had sent a note to Lady Garrison informing her that he would be escorting Lady Dunbridge and her niece to Lady Garrison's ball that evening. He'd read a stack of correspondence from Pomfrey at Shepherdston Hall, then sent a coded message to Daniel at Sussex House, telling him of the Free Fellows League meeting that evening. After completing those tasks, Jarrod had retired to his bedchamber and slept for a couple of hours. He'd ordered a hot bath upon awakening, then bathed, shaved, and begun dressing for the evening ahead.

The Free Fellows were meeting at White's in half an hour to summarize the days' events. Praying that the Duke of Sussex's absence from this morning's meeting was an anomaly, Jarrod hoped he was worrying for naught and that Sussex would be at White's to brief them on his mission.

"Not nearly long enough," Henderson told him. "Sir, isn't there anyone else we could engage to escort the ladies? If His Grace doesn't appear for this evening's meeting, one must suppose something untoward has happened and plan accordingly. And if that is the case, you are the logical choice to assume the next mission."

"Who do you suggest we engage to escort the ladies?"

"I suggest we ask Lord Mayhew to substitute for you."

Jarrod recognized the wisdom in that. "Lord Rob is completely trustworthy."

"And, if I may point out, sir, Lord Mayhew adores ladies and is quite at home in the ton," Henderson added.

"That's true," Jarrod agreed. He could count on Lord Rob to squire the ladies about London and to enjoy doing it. And Jarrod would be free to attend to his Free Fellow duties without worrying about Sarah and her aunt. Lord Rob would be able to discourage any attention Lord Dunbridge might pay to them. Yes, Jarrod decided, Henderson was correct. Lord Rob was the perfect choice. "Good idea, Henderson," Jarrod said. "I'll ask him about it tonight at Lady Garrison's."