“You danced?” Griff teased. “Don’t tell Alyssa. She’ll be distraught at the idea.” He pinned Jarrod with a look. Colin liked to dance, although he seldom took the opportunity to do so. But Jarrod... In all the years he had known him, Griff had never seen Jarrod dance with anyone except Alyssa. He hadn’t realized Jarrod could dance until he’d partnered Alyssa for the first time while Griff was unable to. “Is the world as we know it coming to an end? I can’t believe you partnered an unmarried young lady. Her mother must have been overjoyed.”
“Her aunt,” Jarrod corrected. “Sarah’s mother died when she was a child.”
“Sarah?” Sussex struggled to recall all the Sarahs in his acquaintance.
“You don’t know her,” Jarrod assured him. “Her father is rector in the village at my childhood home. Sarah’s an old friend with no fortune. She’s of no interest to our impostor.” But she appeared to be of interest to the Marquess of Shepherdston, and everyone in the room knew it.
“Now,” Jarrod continued, “the young lady with whom Colin danced is an entirely different story.”
“Oh?” Griff leaned forward.
“Yes,” Jarrod affirmed. “Colin’s partner is quite a considerable heiress who was rumored to have spent a month in the country visiting relatives at the start of the season.”
“What about her father?” Sussex asked. “Is he suspect?”
Jarrod nodded. “Enough so that I arranged a meeting between Baron Davies and Colin this afternoon.”
“Baron Carter Davies?” Griff asked.
“The same,” Jarrod affirmed. “I suspected, from the gossip I gleaned at Lady Harralson’s that Miss Davies might be the young lady for whom we were looking. So Colin and I decided a meeting with the baron was in order to see if the rumors would bear fruit.”
Griff whistled in admiration. “Davies has got enough blunt to pay Bow Street to investigate anyone connected to the War Office—or anyone rumored to be connected to the War Office—for as long as it takes to find the impostor or until he gets what he wants. He could raise myriad questions about, and cause no end of trouble for, the Free Fellows. Damnation! What a tangle!”
“Don’t keep us in suspense, Grantham.” Sussex turned to Colin, barely able to contain his curiosity. “Tell us how your meeting with Lord Davies went.”
Chapter Thirteen
“The world must be peopled. When I said I would die a bachelor,
I did not think I should live till I were married.”
—William Shakespeare, 1564-1616
Much Ado About Nothing
“I’m marrying his daughter in the morning.” Colin didn’t mince words.
“What?” The Duke of Sussex choked, spewing brandy across his chair and his fine evening trousers. He brushed the droplets of wine from his clothing and gave Colin his full attention. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not.” Colin looked at Jarrod. “If you’ll be so kind as to open your safe, I’ll deliver on my wager. I believe I owe each of you five hundred pounds.”
Jarrod got up from his seat on the sofa, walked over to the safe concealed behind a tasteful landscape, and spun the dial. He removed a heavy metal cash box and handed it to Colin.
Colin unlocked the cash box and began counting out the fifteen hundred pounds needed to cover the wager.
Sussex set his brandy glass aside and shook his head. “Damn the wager, Grantham,” the duke said. “You don’t owe me anything. I’m not an original Free Fellow. I wasn’t one of you when you made that wager.”
“You’re one of us now,” Colin said. “And, unlike my father, I always pay my debts. Take the money.”
“All right.” Sussex held up his hand. “But I reserve the right to repay the wager at a later date.” Sussex wasn’t trying to be insulting, but he was very much aware that Viscount Grantham’s resources were not as large as those of the other Free Fellows.
Colin frowned. “Unless you’re getting married on the morrow, too, there’s no need to repay me at a later date. According to the terms of the marriage contract I signed this afternoon, making good on my wager isn’t going to beggar me.” He acknowledged the other two Free Fellows. “Neither will financing a season for my sister.” He handed a bundle of pound notes to Jarrod and another to Griff, then locked the cash box and put it back in the safe.
“Remarkable.” Jarrod closed the door of the safe, spun the dial, and swung the landscape back into place before returning to his seat on the leather sofa. Reaching over the back of the sofa, he opened the lid of the intricately carved teakwood box on the table and selected a cigar. Jarrod snipped the end off the cigar, struck a match to light it, and inhaled a lungful of aromatic smoke, then blew it out. “You danced one dance with Miss Davies last night and signed a contract to wed her this afternoon.” He narrowed his gaze at Colin. “Did I miss the love at first sight? Or did you make such an impression on the baron that he immediately chose you to become his son-in-law? Satisfy our rampant curiosity and tell us how your impending nuptials came about,” Jarrod prodded.
“It appeared to be either the foregone conclusion or the natural progression of the meeting,” Colin replied sharply.
“Bloody hell!” Jarrod exploded. “Damnation! It went that badly, eh?”