Truly a Wife (Free Fellows League 4)

“There was.” Griff looked at Colin and frowned. “Which is why I didn’t catch a glimpse of you and Gillian all evening.”

“You didn’t catch a glimpse of us all evening because Gillian and I weren’t there,” Colin replied.

“You didn’t go?” Griff was astonished.

“We weren’t invited,” Colin answered.

“What do you mean you weren’t invited?” Courtland and Barclay demanded in unison.

“I’m only a viscount.”

“So?” Barclay demanded. “There were a dozen viscounts and viscountesses at the party.”

“Tons of them,” Griffin added. “A great many with lesser titles than yours. You have one of the oldest and most revered titles in Scotland. Granthams and McElreaths have held titles from the time of Macbeth.”

“Aye,” Colin agreed in a thick burr. “But they were Scottish titles, and, present company excluded, when have the English ever been impressed by Scottish titles?” He shrugged his shoulders. “Besides, everyone knows there’s no money behind my title.”

“That may have been true once,” Griff reminded him, “but it’s no longer the case. Your hard work and your marriage to Gillian put a great deal of money behind the title. You’re worth a bloody fortune, Colin.” Griff ran his fingers through his hair. Colin had married Gillian Davies, the daughter of Baron Carter Davies, a silk and linen merchant who owned a fleet of ships and dozens of lucrative trade routes all over the world. Gillian’s father had become one of the richest men in England and been rewarded with the title of baron for services to the crown, but he and his wife and daughter had yet to be fully accepted by some members of the ton. “Of course piles of money don’t mean a thing to the dowager Duchess of Sussex, who is, and has always been, a terrible snob. But don’t let it bother you. You’re in excellent company, you know. She and my mother don’t particularly get on.” He smiled. “Apparently the duchess had set her cap for the duke and my father. She married the duke, but she never forgave my father for not offering for her. And you know my mother—” He glanced over at Colin and grinned. “She has no use for anyone who dislikes my father.”

Colin knew Griff’s parents quite well, and anyone who knew them knew that Lord and Lady Weymouth’s marriage had been a true love match. Colin also knew that if there was anyone Lady Weymouth loved more than her husband, it was Griffin, her only child.

“And,” Griff continued, “Her Grace hasn’t quite gotten over the fact that Alyssa chose me instead of Daniel. The duchess only invited Alyssa and me because I’m the hero of Fuentes de Oñoro, and because His Highness elevated me to the rank of duke.” He stared at his friend, trying to read between the lines. “And you know that if Daniel had realized his mother had omitted your name from the guest list, he would have rectified the error.”

“Of course he would have,” Colin agreed. “But it didn’t matter. I’d much rather

spend a quiet evening at home with Gillian than fight my way through the crush of people at Sussex House. And although she missed getting all decked out in her finery, Gillian didn’t mind staying home either.” Once upon a time, Colin would have felt slighted by the duchess’s snub, but things had changed after he married Gillian. Now he no longer needed the ton’s approval, and Colin truly didn’t feel the duchess’s slight. His only regret was that he knew Daniel would be embarrassed to learn that his mother had slighted one of his friends. But he and Gillian were about to celebrate their first wedding anniversary, and they enjoyed each other’s company far too much to worry about missing the social event of the year. “If there’s anything she despises, it’s the snobbery of the duchess’s set.”

“Daniel and I are the ones who need consoling.” Griff raised his hands in a sign of surrender. “Count yourself fortunate that your mother-in-law isn’t a part of the Duchess of Sussex’s set, like mine is.” He shrugged. “Alyssa and I would rather have stayed home like you and Gillian, and you know Daniel would rather avoid all the fuss, but … It’s worse for him. The duchess is his mother. There is no escape for him.”

Colin nodded. “I can’t imagine returning from a mission and having to face that.”

“It’s the same for me,” Jonathan said gloomily. “The Duchess of Sussex is my aunt, and Aunt Lavinia would never forgive me for missing her party, either. And if my aunt is unhappy, my mother is unhappy. Unfortunately, those two sisters are as alike as peas in a pod, and they’re both capable of making my life miserable.”

The Free Fellows had all become as close as brothers, but only Sussex and Manners were related. Their mothers were sisters. Daniel’s mother had married a duke. Jonathan’s mother had married the younger son of an earl. Daniel and Jonathan jokingly called themselves distant cousins because until he’d unexpectedly inherited his paternal uncle’s title, Daniel’s mother had done her best to keep distance between the two boys by limiting her son’s contact with his much poorer cousin. The duchess had made certain that Jonathan and Daniel had gone to different schools. Jonathan had been sent to Knightsguild with Griffin, Colin, and Jarrod, and Daniel had followed in his father’s footsteps and gone to Eton.

Fortunately for Jonathan, Daniel had sought his companionship whenever possible and had generously rewarded Jonathan for information about the Free Fellows League. Jonathan had slept in the cot next to Jarrod’s and had often overheard bits of information about the mysterious League and the three boys who had formed it and patterned it after King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. He eagerly shared his information with Daniel, and Daniel had supplied him with coins and trinkets in return. The cousins had thrilled to the exploits of the Free Fellows League, and both boys had aspired to join it.

It had taken years, but Sussex and Barclay had finally been granted membership and earned their secret code names. Shepherdston was Merlin. Avon was Lancelot. Grantham was Galahad. Sussex was Arthur. Barclay had become Bedivere, and Courtland had become Tristram.

“I shudder to think about it,” Alex added.

“So do I,” Colin said. “I’ve made more crossings than I care to count, and I know that even if everything went smoothly, a trip to the coast of France and back in two days is a hardship.”

“Daniel would have had to have ridden like the hounds of hell were on his heels in order to make it to his mother’s party on time. And it’s not as if he could beg off. He’s the duke. It’s his house, and what’s more, he actually lives there.” Griff’s smile grew into a broad grin. “Think about it. He probably had to fight his way through the crowd of coaches to get down the drive to the house. No doubt he overslept.”

“I did no such thing.”

Four Free Fellows turned at the sound of the protest to find Jarrod standing in the doorway.

“Shepherdston!” they greeted him.

“My tardiness had nothing to do with oversleeping,” Jarrod continued in a sharp tone. “I am only a quarter of an hour late, despite the fact that I’ve been up all night.”

“We were talking about Sussex oversleeping,” Colin said. He walked over to the silver coffeepot, poured a steaming cup of the brew, and carried it over to Jarrod. “Not your going without.” He thrust the cup in Jarrod’s hand. “Drink this. You look like hell.”

It was true. Jarrod’s brown eyes were bloodshot, and there were dark circles beneath them. “Thanks,” he said, gratefully accepting the cup of coffee Colin handed him.

“What did you do, Shepherdston? Put in an appearance at Aunt Lavinia’s ball last night, then go home and work on dispatches?” Barclay inquired.