Truly a Wife (Free Fellows League 4)

“Why? What happened?” Jonathan asked. “I caught sight of you at the Gala, but Aunt Lavinia pressed me into substituting for you in the receiving line, and by the time I got through, you’d disappeared.”

“I got hit by a rifle ball during the Channel crossing.”

“Bloody hell!” Jonathan swore. “Going or coming?”

“Coming back.”

“How badly? Are you all right? Was anyone else injured?” Jonathan was instantly concerned not just for his cousin but for the crew. He worked with the brave crew to smuggle men and supplies across the Channel as often as Daniel did and knew that most of the men Colin and Jarrod had recruited hailed from the villages of Pymley and Coldswater, not far from the Dover coast.

“Shavers caught one through the flesh of the arm and Pepper’s got a new part in his hair, but I got the worst of it,” Daniel said. “The ball cut a groove through my side and cracked a rib or two, but it missed the vital organs.” He smiled. “I’ll live. But I wasn’t as certain of it at the party the other night.”

Jonathan exhaled. “I can’t believe you made the journey at all. It must have hurt like the very devil.”

Daniel shook his head. “Mistress Beekins stitched me up, bound my ribs, handed me a flask full of Scots whisky, then sent her son, Micah, along with a large jug of the stuff with me to London.” He flashed his grin at his cousin. “My wound barely pained me at all once I had that much whisky in me. But because I had that much whisky in me, I had Micah memorize the phrase and sent him to Shepherdston’s house with the dispatch pouches and the round of cheese. Did he get them?”

“He got them. Gillian decoded them and Jarrod has reported the findings to the men at Whitehall.” He grinned at Daniel. “Job well done.”

“Except for getting shot.” Daniel thought for a moment. “And something bothers me about that. There was something odd. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.”

“Give it time,” Jonathan advised. “You’ll come up with the answer.” He shook his head in amazement. “I know you hold your spirits well, but to drink all the way from Dover to town …”

“I had to,” Daniel replied. “It was the only way I could endure the trip.”

“Good God, Daniel, why didn’t you just stay the night with the Beekinses?”

“And miss making an appearance at the Duchess of Sussex’s annual gala?” He threw a glance at his cousin. “Would you?”

Jonathan shook his head. “And she’s only my aunt. Not my mother.” He smiled at Daniel. “But by the time you arrived at your mother’s party, you must have been drunk.”

“As the proverbial lord,” Daniel replied. “I’ve never had so much whisky in my life.” He gave a little laugh. “I still have an aching head and gaps in my memory.”

“No wonder you found it necessary to avoid your mother.” Jonathan whistled through his teeth. “She’d have known you were foxed the minute she saw you.”

“Which is why I left you to stand by Mother in the receiving line,” Daniel admitted. “Still, I could have avoided her and muddled through, but I accidentally tore Mistress Beekins’s stitches open and started bleeding. With no way to hide that, I was forced to prevail upon Miranda to waltz me out of there. Fast.”

“Miranda?” Jonathan was only partly surprised. “St. Germaine?”

“She’s the only Miranda I know.”

“So, you’ve been staying with Miranda for the past two days?”

Daniel glanced up at Jonathan’s clock. “Until a half hour ago.”

Jonathan chuckled. “Courtland owes me ten pounds. I wagered you’d be with Miranda and Courtland wagered that you were holed up in a house somewhere.”

“Split the difference,” Daniel advised, “because you’re both right. And tell me you didn’t record that particular wager in the betting books at White’s.”

“Like that dunderhead Dunbridge?” Jonathan scoffed. “I’ve got better sense and better manners.” He glanced at Daniel to make certain Daniel had gotten the joke. Until he’d inherited the late Earl of Barclay’s title, Jonathan had been known as Johnny Manners. “I’m a gentleman. Dunbridge is a cad masquerading as a gentleman.”

“Cad or not, he’s certainly caused Jarrod a great deal of trouble.”

“That’s the truth.”

“How is Shepherdston, by the way?” Daniel asked.

Jonathan glanced at the casement clock. “I’m sure he’s fine. He’s either getting married or on his wedding trip by now.”

“What?” Daniel was stunned. “Shepherdston?”