Hardly a Husband (Free Fellows League 3)

"Shall we?" Jarrod asked, offering Sarah his arm.

Sarah tucked her gloved hand into the crook of Jarrod's elbow as they followed her aunt out the door.

Jarrod handed the ladies into the comfortable coach, then climbed in and sat down. Etiquette demanded that when riding with ladies, a gentleman should ride with his back to the driver on the seat facing the back of the coach. That seating arrangement was meant to keep ladies, especially unmarried ladies, from being pressed against a gentleman's body and prevent their suffering mal de mer from the swaying of the coach, but it did nothing to prevent a gentleman from looking his fill at the ladies seated across from him or prevent him from enjoying the view.

Jarrod focused his gaze on a spot above Sarah's head and pretended he was unaffected by her closeness. But his sole concern was keeping his body under control while the enticing scent of lemon and roses conjured up erotic visions of bathtubs and soft, wet, slippery skin.

"We neglected to thank you for securing our invitation this evening," Lady Dunbridge spoke at last, hoping to diffuse some of the tension in the coach.

"Lady Garrison was happy to extend the invitation," Jarrod said. "She'd only excluded you because she knows you're in mourning for Reverend Eckersley. Once I explained that Reverend Eckersley's dying request was that Sarah attend the season, Lady Garrison was delighted to have you as her guests."

"Thank you for making it possible all the same," Lady Dunbridge said. "For we want Sarah to have as many opportunities as possible in order to catch the eye of a young suitor."

Jarrod looked at Sarah. "I don't see how she could fail to catch the eye of a young suitor."

"I agree completely," Lady Dunbridge told him. "The trick isn't so much in catching the eyes of potential suitors as it is in winnowing out the unsuitable ones." She smiled at Jarrod. "I don't come to town as often as I once did and I haven't kept current on the list of fortune hunters, gamblers, imbibers, womanizers, and general ne'er-do-wells we wish to avoid. I do hope that we may depend on you to help us in that regard and to keep Reggie Blanchard at bay."

"You may depend upon it," he replied. "I won't let you down."

"Thank heavens," Lady Dunbridge breathed. "For I must admit I was dreading the heavy responsibility of choosing a suitable husband for my niece. Try as I might, I cannot seem to judge character on a moment's acquaintance…"

Sarah looked up and met Jarrod's gaze. "I suppose it's a result of years of listening to Papa's sermons on Matthew 7:1." She paused, waiting for Jarrod to repeat the verse, and when he didn't, she added, "Come now, Lord Shepherdston, I know Papa taught you scripture."

"For God's sake, Sarah, it's been over twenty years. I don't remember every line of scripture."

"For God's sake, you should, Jays." She gave him a smug smile at her play on words. "I do."

"Matthew 7:1." Jarrod fumbled for a Bible verse that fit the topic. "'By their fruits ye shall know them.'"

"That's Matthew 7:20," she said. "Matthew 7:1 is 'Judge not, that ye be not judged.'" She spread her hands, palms up. "Like Aunt Etta, I appear to be no judge of character at all."

Jarrod waited for Sarah to congratulate him on dredging one bit of scripture from the depths of his childhood memories and was strangely disappointed when she didn't. "I wouldn't say that you're no judge of character," he said, resuming the threads of their conversation. "You know enough not to want Reggie Blanchard, despite his wealth and breeding."

"That's true," Sarah answered. "But only because I've had occasion to be around Lord Dunbridge enough to discern his character." She looked at him from beneath the cover of her lashes. "Matthew 7:20."

He puffed up with pride like a peacock, but his pride was short-lived.

"I've no experience with any other men. Except you."

Jarrod squirmed on his seat. "That's as it should be, Miss Eckersley," he said. "You are an unmarried lady. You're supposed to be inexperienced."

"Yes," Sarah said, rather morosely, "unless the magistrate and Lord Dunbridge have their way, then my lack of experience is going to ensure that I find myself the unwilling participant in Lord Dunbridge's wedding."

"No one is going to force you to marry Dunbridge," Jarrod told her.

"Really?" Sarah leaned forward.

Jarrod nodded. "I'll see to it."

"How?" Sarah held her breath.

"By finding someone else to marry you."

Sarah released the breath she'd been holding and did her best to hide her disappointment as she looked over at Jarrod. "I suppose that's as it should be, Lord Shepherdston," she said softly, tossing his phrase back at him. "I've done everything I know to do… "

Jarrod frowned.

"The rest is up to you."