Barely a Bride (Free Fellows League 1)

Colin had no qualms about trading a title that had existed before the time of Macbeth for a fabulously wealthy heiress, preferably one that would be suitably impressed by his title, if not his person. He considered it a fair trade. He was, after all, a Scot and superior to the English in every way that mattered.

“And what did you learn from that one time experience?” Colin asked, setting himself as Jarrod’s gull.

“That people need other people around them—for entertainment, if for no other reason.” Spoken like a true cynic, but Colin and Jarrod both understood that Jarrod didn’t quite believe it. “I suspect company would be good for Lady Abernathy right about now. She needs cheering up.”

“Who do you suggest we send?” Colin asked.

Jarrod snorted. “I was going to suggest you go,” he answered honestly.

Colin shook his head. “Can’t. I’m going fishing in Scotland. I leave tonight. You’ll have to go.”

“Can’t.” Jarrod answered as succinctly as Colin. “I have to remain in London and see to some unfinished business at the ’change.”

Anyone who happened to overhear their conversation would think they were old friends discussing upcoming schedules. Lord Grantham was leaving for a fishing holiday in Scotland, and business kept Lord Shepherdston near the financial district and the stock exchange. But their conversation had a different meaning for Jarrod and Colin. They knew that the day’s code word was fishing.

Translated, their conversation meant that Colin was leaving for France on the evening tide, and that Jarrod would remain in London to process information they’d already received from their broad network of spies and smugglers.

“Well?” Colin asked. “Who do you suggest? Her mother?”

It was Jarrod’s turn to shudder. “I suspect that if Lady Abernathy wanted her mother, she’d have sent for her.”

“How do you know she hasn’t?”

“Apparently, someone is reading her mail.” Jarrod grinned. “Alyssa hasn’t contacted her mother since the wedding. And besides, Lady Tressingham is attending Lady Buckingham’s masque tonight. She’s going as Juliet.” Jarrod’s ability to ferret out information never ceased to amaze Colin. But, then, Jarrod was invited everywhere and knew everyone.

“How?”

Jarrod gave Colin a look that said, Don’t ask.

“Never mind.”

Jarrod gave Colin an innocent look. The snippets of information one could pick up at Gentleman Jackson’s Boxing Saloon constantly amazed him—and his superior at the War Office. “There were seven at last count,” he added just to tantalize Colin.

“Seven what?”

“Juliets.”

“Good lord!”

“The Duchess of Devonshire is one of them.”

“Are you going?” Colin asked.

Jarrod shrugged. “Depends on how much work I have to do.”

“I’m glad I’m going to Scotland,” Colin said. “Less excitement.” He was silent for a moment. “What about one of her sisters?”

Jarrod shook his head. “One has an infant and the other two are increasing.”

“Too much like rubbing her nose in it,” Colin agreed. “We need someone who will rouse her from her megrims. Someone whose presence would demand she get out of bed and attend them.”

“What we need is Griff,” Colin remarked dryly.

Jarrod’s eyes lit up. “Or the next best thing…at least according to Lord Tressingham.” He glanced across the room.

“Oh, Christ!”

“He fits the bill,” Jarrod said.