"What about the others?" Jarrod asked.
"I don't know," Colin said. "But I think this last bit might be better left to the three of us."
Colin was cautious, but he'd never been an alarmist. Clearly, then, this last bit of information Gillian had discovered was serious. Perhaps dangerous. And Jarrod respected Colin's decision. "All right," Jarrod assured him, "I'll be there."
But first, he had to speak to Lord Rob and arrange for his godfather to escort Lady Dunbridge and Sarah home from the ball — and to continue to escort them until further notice.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-Four
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Secure, whate'er he gives, he gives the best.
— Samuel Johnson, 1709-1784
"Will you do it?" Jarrod asked, after waylaying Lord Rob in the doorway between the ballroom and the sitting room where the card tables had been set up and pulling him into Lord Garrison's study for a few minutes of private conversation.
"Of course I'll do it," Lord Rob answered. "I'll be happy to see the ladies safely home, but I'll not be happy to see you break Sarah's heart."
"Sarah?" Jarrod eyed his uncle warily. "When did she become 'Sarah' to you?"
"When I realized she was Henrietta Dunbridge's niece," Lord Rob retorted. "And don't change the subject. She's wearing her heart on her sleeve for you and you're in danger of trampling it."
"I've no intention of trampling Sarah's heart," Jarrod said. "I'm doing my damnedest to preserve it."
"By seducing her in the folly?"
"What?" He turned white.
"Henrietta and I arrived at the folly after you took Sarah inside," Lord Rob told him. "I saw you putting your clothes to rights."
"Did she?"
"No, thank heavens. I led her away from the folly and back into the maze."
"What were you doing at the folly?" Jarrod asked.
"Looking for you and Miss Eckersley." Lord Rob saw no reason to confess that he'd decided to take Henrietta to the folly for the same reason that Jarrod had taken her niece. Unfortunately, he and Henrietta had gotten a later start than Jarrod and Sarah and had taken a few wrong turns in the maze, then made use of the errors by kissing until they were aching and senseless. By the time they reached the folly, it was occupied. And although Henrietta hadn't seen Jarrod and Sarah, Lord Rob had. "Why didn't you tell me she was a lady?" he asked.
"You knew she was a lady," Jarrod told him. "Her aunt was standing right beside you when I introduced her."
"I meant the girl this morning," Lord Rob reminded his godson. "You introduced her as Miss Sarah Eckersley this evening. You did not introduce her as Sarah of the long red hair, lovely legs, and strawberry birthmark. But they're one and the same."
"Are they?"
"Don't make the mistake of thinking I'm a fool," Lord Rob snapped. "I saw the way you kissed the girl early this morning and I've seen the way you look at her tonight. If Sarah Eckersley and Sarah of the strawberry birthmark aren't one and the same, I'll eat my hat." He glared at his godson, truly disappointed in Jarrod for the first time in his life. "And if she is the same girl, you know bloody well that she's been compromised and that you were the man who did it."
"I kissed her, Lord Rob," Jarrod said. "I didn't dishonor her."
"This morning," Lord Rob said. "What about this evening?"
Jarrod didn't answer.
"For heaven's sake, Jarrod, she's the daughter of a recently deceased rector and she's Henrietta Dunbridge's niece."
Jarrod glared back. "What difference does it make whose daughter she is? It doesn't change anything. Her father's still dead. Her aunt is still a widow and Sarah is still without a home."