“And there was every reason to believe you would discover it if someone at the Blue Bottle Inn realized there were two Colin Foxes,” Jarrod picked up where Colin left off.
“Especially if one of the Colin Foxes had a bride who might question the presence of another Colin Fox,” Griffin added.
“And there’s always the possibility that you might have discovered he’d eloped with other young ladies,” Sussex said. “All of whom remain mysteries.”
“Unfortunately,” Griff said. “And unfortunately, there’s an equally good chance that none of these incidents are related. It may all be coincidental.”
“You think so?” Colin asked.
Griff shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. But we won’t know for sure until we learn who hired the runner.” Jarrod raked his fingers through his hair. “We’ve got at least two Colin Foxes—one we know and another we don’t know who eloped to Scotland with one or more unidentified young ladies of good family. We have a mysterious lady in an inn in Edinburgh and an unidentified dead assassin who may or may not be the Colin Fox we don’t know and at least one father and a Bow Street runner trying to figure it all out.”
“It should make for a very interesting investigation,” Sussex said. “For Bow Street and us.”
Jarrod nodded. “I agree. And even if it is a coincidence, it’s much too close for comfort or safety.”
“So is that Bow Street runner,” Colin reminded them. “I have enough trouble with the French and the Spanish. I can’t have robin redbreasts following my every move. How are we going to manage them?”
“We’re going to manage them by getting to the bottom of this little mystery. We need to find out who hired our tenacious runner and how much he or she knows before the runner finds you,” Jarrod replied.
“When do we begin?”
“Tonight,” Jarrod replied. “And we begin with the heavy artillery.”
The other three Free Fellows groaned.
“That’s right, my friends.” Jarrod smiled. “This mission calls for evening wear and a night on the town.” He glanced over at the clock on the mantel. “Time to vote. I know you’ve all received invitations for tonight. So, what’s it to be? Lady Harralson’s? Lady Compton’s? Or Almack’s?”
To anyone else in London society, the obvious answer was Almack’s Assembly Rooms. But Lady Harralson and Lady Compton were two of the ton’s leading hostesses. They were universally liked and openly generous with their invitations, including men and women whose family connections involved trade or commerce—the men and women who would never receive the coveted vouchers to Almack’s.
Lady Harralson was a popular choice of the young ladies who were unable to gain admission to Almack’s, and her parties were well attended. The food was good and the libations adequate. Lady Harralson loved to dance and always hired the best orchestras, but she disliked gambling and rarely allowed her male guests to escape the dancing in order to while away the hours with cards and liquor.
Lady Compton, on the other hand, was an inveterate gambler. She limited the dancing and devoted a great many rooms to all sorts of gaming. She liked what men liked and put on the best spread in London. Her wines and liquors were the best vintages and the highest quality. Gentlemen flocked to her gatherings because she made them feel comfortable and at home. Unfortunately, the only women who truly enjoyed Lady Compton’s were gamblers, older widows, and the hunting set.
Of the three, Almack’s was the best place to learn the latest gossip, but Free Fellows generally avoided Almack’s like the plague.
Almack’s was the place where every ambitious, marriage-minded young woman and her mother wanted to be. It was the place where young ladies of good families went to find husbands and young bucks went looking for brides and fortunes. Griffin, the only married Free Fellow, had found his bride there. Everyone who was anyone in society sought the coveted vouchers that granted admission, but only a select few actually received them.
The Free Fellows were among the select few. All of them possessed vouchers guaranteeing admission, although none of them used them unless absolutely necessary. The Free Fellows despised the place. It was hot, overcrowded, and the refreshments were cheap and uninspiring. Almack’s was the last place any of them would ever choose to go—including Griffin, who was beyond the reach of the marriage-market mamas and their marriageable daughters because he had been happily married to his duchess, Alyssa, for nearly two years—but it was also the place most likely to yield the information they needed.
“Lady Compton’s,” came the unanimous reply.
“We can’t all appear at Lady Compton’s,” Jarrod told them as he walked over to the bell pull and rang for a waiter. “The fairest way to settle this is to cut cards. High card goes to Almack’s. The next highest card goes to Lady Harralson’s. The next highest card goes to Lady Compton’s. Agreed?”
Griffin nodded an affirmative, and the others followed suit.
“Good,” Jarrod pronounced.
After the servant delivered the sealed deck and exited the room, Jarrod broke the seal and shuffled the cards. He offered the first cut to Griffin, then to Colin and Sussex, taking the last cut for himself.
“All right,” he said when they’d finished, “Show them.”
All four men flipped over their cards.
“King,” Griffin said.
“Six,” Colin replied.
Sussex smiled. “Two.”